Ethan Wilder Rise to Power

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzzed overhead as Ethan Wilder leaned behind the counter. The register sat before him, its mechanical tone matching the dull ache in his chest. It was his third shift of the day, and his stomach growled for something other than the day-old energy bar he’d eaten during his five-minute break.

‘One more hour,’ he thought. ‘Just one more hour and I can go home.’

Not that home meant anything better. The cramped, dingy apartment with peeling wallpaper and leaky faucets wasn’t a haven. It was a constant reminder of how low his life had sunk.

The bell above the store door jingled. Ethan didn’t bother looking up. Most of the customers at this hour were students buying junk food or the occasional drunk grabbing cheap beer.

“Babe, isn’t this place disgusting?”

That voice.

Ethan froze, his grip tightening on the counter as the familiar sound washed over him like ice water. He forced himself to glance up and immediately regretted it.

Chloe.

She stood just a few feet away, her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, her designer coat snug against her perfect frame. She hadn’t changed. If anything, she looked more radiant than ever. Beside her stood a man who was everything Ethan wasn’t—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding the kind of wealth that screamed untouchable.

“Let’s just grab the wine and leave,” the man said, his tone full of disdain.

Ethan turned his gaze back to the counter, praying they wouldn’t notice him. His pulse raced as he fiddled with the edge of his uniform, trying to steady his breathing.

No such luck.

“Ethan?” Chloe’s voice cut through the air, laced with mock surprise.

He didn’t respond.

“Ethan Wilder,” she said again, louder this time, like she was announcing his name to the whole store.

He forced himself to look at her. “Chloe,” he said stiffly, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.

Her lips curved into a smile that felt like a knife to the gut. “Wow, it really is you. I didn’t think you’d still be . . . well, here.”

The man beside her chuckled. “You know this guy?”

“Oh, I know him,” Chloe said, stepping closer to the counter. “Ethan and I used to date.”

“Date?” The man raised an eyebrow, looking Ethan up and down like he was inspecting something rotten. “You dated that?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Ethan,” Chloe said, her tone dripping with false sympathy. “It’s not like I lied to you. Well, not entirely.”

The man smirked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chloe sighed dramatically, like she was recounting some tragic story. “I stayed with him because he was useful. You wouldn’t believe how hard this guy worked. He practically bled himself dry for me and my family. But, honestly?” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a cruel whisper. “It was pathetic. I mean, look at him. All those hours, all that effort, and this is where he ended up. What a waste.”

Ethan’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the counter. He imagined vaulting over it, imagined slamming his fist into the smug look on the other man’s face, imagined wiping that condescending smirk off Chloe’s lips.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He was too much of a coward.

“You’re a piece of work,” the man said, shaking his head at Ethan. “No wonder she left you.”

Ethan’s chest burned from the humiliation, but he couldn’t muster the strength to say anything back. His pride? There was none left for him to swallow back down.

“Chloe.”

The voice cut through the tension like a whip. Chloe and the man turned to see Ethan’s manager standing at the end of the aisle. A wiry man in his forties with graying hair and sharp eyes. He looked at Chloe like she was a particularly annoying insect.

“You’re still the same parasite you always were,” the man said, crossing his arms. “Only difference now is you’ve got someone else to leech off of. Don’t get too comfortable—parasites tend to lose their worth when they rot.”

Chloe’s face twisted in fury. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” the manager said flatly. “Now buy your overpriced wine and get out of my store.”

Chloe’s companion stepped forward, but the manager didn’t flinch. “You can puff your chest all you want,” he said. “Won’t change the fact that you’re just another idiot who fell for her tricks. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

For the first time that night, Ethan felt something besides shame. It wasn’t quite relief, but it was close.

Chloe grabbed the man’s arm, dragging him toward the door. “Let’s go,” she snapped, her face red with anger.

The bell above the door jingled as they left, and silence filled the store once again.

“You’re welcome,” the manager muttered, brushing past Ethan to restock a shelf.

“Thanks,” Ethan said quietly, though the words felt hollow.

By the time his shift ended, the store was empty, save for the hum of the fluorescent lights. Ethan clocked out, stepped into the cold night, and started the long walk home.

His thoughts swirled as Chloe’s words replayed in his mind. He hated how much they still stung, hated how easily she could cut him down with just a few sentences.

‘She’s wrong,’ he told himself, but the voice in his head didn’t believe it.

He reached his apartment, shoved open the door, and collapsed onto the couch. The silence in the room felt heavier than before.

‘I need to change,’ he thought, staring at the cracked ceiling. ‘I can’t keep living like this.’

But no matter how hard he tried to think of a way out, no solution came.