Chapter 99 – Joseph Returns (Part 1)
Standing in front of Sheila's house, Frank hesitated for a moment before turning around and walking away.
Moments later, the door opened and Karen stepped out, schoolbag on her back.
"Huh?" Karen caught sight of Frank's retreating figure in the distance. Though a bit blurry, it looked strangely familiar.
"Sweetheart, you forgot your lunch!" Sheila's voice called out from inside just as Karen tried to take a closer look.
Sheila walked out, handing a paper bag to Karen.
"Thanks, Mom," Karen said, taking the bag and giving her mom a quick hug.
"I wonder when I'll finally be able to walk you to school," Sheila sighed.
"It's okay. You're already stepping outside the house—that's a big win. The next goal is to make it to the front gate. One step at a time, right? You'll make it to school eventually," Karen encouraged her.
Thanks to flushing all her meds down the toilet and putting in effort over time, Sheila's agoraphobia had not worsened—in fact, it had improved significantly.
She could now step outside the house, even stroll around the yard a little. Compared to before, when she couldn't even cross the threshold, it was a major breakthrough.
"I wonder what Frank's been up to lately. I wanted to surprise him," Sheila suddenly said.
To her, Frank wasn't just a friend—he was their savior. He helped her overcome her crippling fear of the outside world. Without him, she'd still be stuck at the window, gazing longingly at the bustling streets, unable to step out, let alone livestream or meet so many like-minded friends online.
"Yeah, haven't seen Old Man Frank around much," Karen added.
Back when Karen and Lip were close, she often hung out at Frank's place. But ever since the breakup—and Lip's failed attempts to win her back—Karen had been keeping her distance from him, and by extension, from Frank's house too.
So neither Sheila nor Karen knew about the chaos that had recently gone down in Frank's home.
After leaving Sheila's house, Frank randomly rented a room at a motel, took a shower, and then headed to the Alibi Room.
"Hey, Frank! Good news!" Fat Tommy greeted him enthusiastically as soon as he walked in.
"What's the good news?" Frank asked, sitting down. Noticing Kevin wasn't around, he leaned halfway behind the bar, grabbed a glass, and poured himself a full beer.
"Remember I told you about Joseph?" Tommy asked.
"Joseph… Oh, that guy who hit the jackpot with some dumb luck and made it big?" Frank took a sip of his beer.
"Exactly! He came back briefly not too long ago, and rumor has it he's returning today—should be here any minute now," Tommy said.
"How do you know?" Frank asked casually.
"See those guys over there?" Tommy pointed discreetly.
Frank followed the direction of Tommy's finger and saw a few men in suits and sunglasses sitting at a corner table—completely out of place in the bar's usual laid-back atmosphere.
"They're Joseph's bodyguards. Came ahead to scope the place out for safety. When you're worth billions, you've got to have the entourage to match," Tommy explained.
"And take a look around—notice how everyone's acting a little… different?" Tommy continued.
"Different?" Frank was puzzled.
"Look at me. Tell me what you see," Tommy said, sitting up straighter.
Frank gave him a once-over. He hadn't noticed earlier, but now that he looked closely—Tommy was definitely cleaned up.
Usually, Fat Tommy dressed like a slob. He was a construction foreman, after all. But today, he was unusually well-groomed. Even his worn-out baseball cap had been swapped for a new one with a hound-dog logo.
Frank glanced around the bar. Something was definitely off. The atmosphere had shifted.
It wasn't just Tommy. Everyone's outfits had changed.
The regulars at the Alibi Room were usually life's losers—down-and-out types barely distinguishable from the homeless. Most looked disheveled, and more than a few carried an odor.
But today, they were all cleaned up and presentable—well, relatively. The bar even smelled fresher.
Even Kevin had tidied up. Frank spotted him behind the bar, wearing a bowtie and acting like a proper bartender in a high-end joint. He even coughed every so often, trying to clear his throat, perhaps practicing his "fancy" voice.
All the bartenders were present too—normally they rotated shifts, but today, everyone had shown up, looking sharp. The women had even done their makeup.
"Stop pretending. I know you cleaned yourself up too—heard Joseph was coming and went back to get ready, didn't you?" Tommy teased.
Frank, freshly showered and lightly scented with floral body wash, clearly fit the bill.
In Tommy's eyes, Frank was no different from the rest—trying to impress a millionaire.
"Sorry I'm late," came a gloomy voice as Mikey walked in.
"Pfft!" Frank nearly spat out his beer when he saw Mikey. "What the hell are you wearing?! And what's with the makeup?!"
Mikey had on a red suit clearly two sizes too big, his face ghostly pale with exaggerated blush on his cheeks.
"I didn't have a choice—this is the only suit I own. And I've been pulling all-nighters lately; my complexion's been terrible," Mikey said, taking a seat.
"You might want to go wash that off," Frank suggested.
As the group chatted, Veronica showed up, dressed to kill—almost everything on display.
Even Fat Tommy couldn't help whistling at her.
"Kevin, we have to make a good impression today," she whispered, tugging at her collar to show even more cleavage. "If Joseph just tosses us a little scrap from his fortune, we're set for life."
She had skipped work to be here. Despite all the jokes the gang made about Joseph's "dumb luck" and how he "got lucky," now that he was actually coming—they all turned into shameless suck-ups.
After all, billionaires don't walk into your bar every day.