Patrick roared, "King, you bastard, when were you going to tell us?" Mimi shot a sharp glare at him, hands firmly on her hips. King stammered, almost tripping over his words, "Guys, calm down, it's not a big deal. Look at the date on the text, I was just about to tell you. Besides, it's probably just a prank anyway."
Patrick peered at the phone and noticed the text had been sent only moments ago. His excitement grew, and he hurried back to sit beside King, waving his hands as he explained. "Listen, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and you can't afford to mess it up. You need someone like me to coach you through it. Trust me, I know everything there is to know about girls." King raised an eyebrow and asked, "Is that so? Then why don't you have a girl yourself?" Patrick cleared his throat and said, "That's not important right now. But if you must know, I'm single by choice."
Mimi snorted. "King, if you ask me, it's obviously a trap. No offense, but a girl like Ratel would never fall for you. It's better to just ignore her. Don't let her get to your head." Patrick stood up, a look of indignation on his face. He slammed his hands on the table, causing a few heads around them to turn. "You can't be serious. You want him to ignore her? He might as well throw his birth certificate into the sea. King, don't listen to her. She's jealous. You have to put in maximum effort. In fact, you should crawl at Ratel's feet so she doesn't dump a loser like you." The restaurant fell silent as everyone, including Patrick's friends, stared in disbelief.
King noticed how red Patrick's face had turned and thought someone must have handed him a ransom letter. Realizing he had gone too far, Patrick straightened his stained white shirt, gestured toward the onlookers as if apologizing, and sat back down. Lowering his voice, he whispered, "I'm just saying life's about risks. This is one of those times you have to be strong and face your fears."
King laughed softly, amazed at how Patrick was so enthusiastic about dating but not about anything else. He sighed and said, "Patrick, you have to admit Mimi has a point. This is likely a trick." Patrick nodded vigorously. "Okay, King, it's good to be careful. All I'm saying is give it a shot. Put on a brave face, go see her, test the waters, and if you sense anything off, get out fast."
King agreed. "Okay, that sounds like a plan. I'll do that." After a while, the three friends headed home. When King got home late, he knocked on the door. His little sister, Missy, swung it open and hugged him tightly. After pulling away, she put her hands on her hips and pouted, "Why are you so late? I thought you'd be back earlier, so I went out with my friends. I just started cooking."
King smiled. "That's okay, I'm not too hungry. But we have to make sure the food's ready before Dad gets home. You know how hard he works and his condition. So, next time you go out, give me a call, okay?" "Okay, bro," she replied. Without changing, King and his sister went into the kitchen to start cooking. King was a great cook and often helped with meals since their mother had left long ago after their dad got sick with lung cancer.
Rumors said she remarried a wealthy CEO and rarely called or cared about them. She didn't support them financially. King's parents couldn't have been more different. Sometimes he wondered how they ever married. His dad, siblings, and aunties were kind, gentle, and ambitious, while his mother and her family were selfish and obsessed with money and status. Their cruelty bred fierce competition, and their conversations always involved bragging and belittling.
King and Missy put on aprons and started chopping ingredients, seasoning meat, and heating water. Missy glanced at him. "Bro, when I watch you cook, I can't help but think you'd make a great chef. And you look handsome with your hair in that net." King didn't reply but thought to himself, "If I were really handsome, girls wouldn't treat me like dirt under their shoes."
Once the food was ready, they set it on the table. A knock came at the door. King hurried to open it and saw his dad, Eric, standing there. King smiled, but his dad didn't smile back. Instead, he pushed past King and slumped onto the couch. King followed and sat beside him. "What's wrong, Dad? Why the long face?" Eric sighed. "It's your Aunt Rita. She keeps pestering me at work even though she knows we're not close anymore. You should have been there, King. It was terrible. She caused a scene, and I had no choice but to give her some of the money I'd saved." He sighed again.
King clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked, his anger rising and spilling over. Missy left the kitchen and felt the tension as she sat quietly on the couch to listen. King glared at his dad. "Get ready, because she's going to keep coming back now that she knows you're gullible. First our house, then the street, now your workplace. She won't stop. The worst part? She doesn't even lack money. You know that, so why do you keep falling for her tricks?"
Eric's anger flared. "What do you expect me to do? Get fired? She caused a scene in front of my boss. I had no choice."
King snapped back, "Get security, drag her out. I don't know. But now she has the perfect leverage to extort money from you, and that's on you. If you'd stopped it when it first started at our door, none of this would have happened." He stood up and stormed to his room.
Missy called after him, "Aren't you going to eat your fo.....?" The only answer was a door slamming. King flopped on his bed and pulled out his phone to watch some of his favorite videos: Cooking tutorials, then basketball lessons from an online coach he followed, practicing his ball-handling with a worn-out ball in the backyard.
Suddenly, a notification popped up. King's heart skipped a beat when he saw it was from Ratel. The message read, "Hey, aren't you going to tell me how you feel about me?" He sat up, mind racing but unable to find the words even after six minutes.
Just as panic set in, another message arrived. "I understand this might be confusing, so let's meet tomorrow after class and talk." King quickly replied, "ok." When the green light under Ratel's profile went off, signaling she was offline, his shoulders relaxed. He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the next day might bring, completely forgetting his earlier anger. Was Ratel serious? Or was this all just a prank?