Damian (coldly):
Oh, really? Your entire year's salary is probably less than the cost of this shirt.
Ella (embarrassed but still polite):
Still... I'll pay—
Damian (cutting her off):
Just stop it. Here's the money for the order.
(He pulled some bills from his wallet and placed them on the table, turning to leave. As he picked up his umbrella, Ella, hesitantly but firmly, grabbed his hand to stop him. He looked back, surprised. She quickly let go.)
Ella (serious now):
If you didn't eat anything, why are you paying? Take it back.
Damian (flatly):
It's payment for what you ruined. Now take it.
(He turned again, umbrella in hand. Ella, her voice steady, called out.)
Ella:
You can't just walk away. Take the money back... or at least eat what you ordered.
Damian (angrily):
In my whole life, no one has ever spoken to me like that.
Ella (firmly):
Oh really? Well, mister — there's a first time for everything. Maybe this is it.
Damian (furious):
How dare you!
Ella (calm but sharp):
I'll show respect when I get it. If you can't respect me, don't expect it from me either.
(Suddenly, the café manager rushes over.)
Manager (shocked):
Ella! Is that any way to talk to a customer?
Ella (frustrated, muttering):
Not again…
Manager (apologetically to Damian):
I'm so sorry, sir. She's just a young girl — doesn't know how to speak properly. I sincerely apologize.
(He turns to Ella and hits her on the shoulder firmly.)
Manager (scolding):
You shameless girl! Say sorry right now!
Ella (protesting):
But—
Manager (firmly):
Right now!
Ella (gritting her teeth, but obeying):
Sorry.
Manager:
Say it properly!
Ella (forcing a polite tone while holding back anger):
I'm sorry, sir.
(Damian watches her silently. Her eyes burn with rage, almost warning: "If I see you again…")
Damian (coldly):
Maybe you should train your staff... or at least hire ones who know how to behave.
(Damian leaves the café. The manager turns to Ella, furious.)
Manager (angrily):
You! How could you? This is the third time, Ella. I've warned you before — but now this is too much. How dare you grab a customer's hand?
Ella (defensive):
I don't think I did anything wrong. He was insulting me.
Manager:
Oh really? If you want pride and respect, maybe you should apply for a different job!
Listen carefully — this is your last warning. If anything like this happens again, you're fired. Got it? Fired!
Ella (gritting her teeth):
Yes, ma'am.
Manager:
Now, get back to work.
Ella:
But the café is empty...
Manager:
Then fix the problem. Wipe the floor before someone else slips!
Ella (protesting):
But I don't even get paid for that.
Manager:
And you don't get paid to argue with customers either. Now do it!
(The manager walks off. Ella stomps her foot in frustration.)
Manager (calling out):
And if you crack the floor, you're paying for the repairs!
Ella (muttering to herself):
Wow... what powerful ears. One day, I'll be a big scriptwriter, and I'll show her.
She made a future superstar wipe the floor — unbelievable.
(She picks up the mop and begins wiping the empty café floor, still fuming inside.)
Ella (thinking while wiping the floor):
"Oh yes, a bigger monster than her was that man. Even if he's rich and famous, he sure doesn't act like a celebrity. Probably just a wannabe YouTuber pretending to be an actor or idol."
(She finishes mopping and lets out a tired sigh, dropping into a chair to rest.)
"Ahh, finally."
(Meanwhile, inside Damian's car — the rain still falling lightly outside — the driver suddenly stops and hands Damian his phone.)
Driver:
"Sir, it's Mr. Mah.( manager of damian)"
Damian:
"Mr. Mah?" (takes the phone) "Yes, Mr. Mah?"
Mr. Mah (on phone):
"Damian! Why weren't you picking up my calls?"
Damian (confused):
"Your calls? I didn't feel my phone vibrate or ring... wait a second."
(He checks his pocket. Nothing. Then looks around the car.)
Damian (realizing):
"Oh no. My phone!"