002. A slap to the face...

"You're fired, Ethan! That's final. Anyone else who wants to defend him can leave too."

The room fell into a heavy silence. No one spoke up for me. I knew they were afraid for their own jobs.

I slumped to the floor, overwhelmed. Losing this job meant my financial problems would only deepen, especially with my absence from the gym over the past three days. I needed every job I could get.

Mikey extended a hand, helping me up. "Come on, Ethan. Let's get out of here before Mr. Rossi comes back."

In the locker room, I changed back into my regular clothes, each movement feeling robotic, devoid of hope.

"What am I gonna do now?" I asked Mikey, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry. It's gonna be fine," Mikey tried to reassure me.

"Come on, man. It's not going to be. I just got fired,” I said, my head in my palms.

“All because of that girl, Sophia. I told you she's not good for you," Mikey continued. "Listen, I got a lead! My buddy at M & C needs a last-minute fill-in for a waiter's gig. Formal event. You in?"

I hesitated. A tux, a restaurant, a chance to salvage my day? Maybe a glimmer of hope. "I… I don't have a tux," I mumbled.

"Don't worry, I'll hook you up. Just be there by six, sharp. Don't be late, okay? I gotta go," Mikey said, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

It was my day off at the grocery store. Nothing else to do but go home and rest until 6, hoping this new opportunity could be the lifeline I needed.

Reaching my apartment, I rummaged through the fridge, finding a half-eaten bag of chips and a forgotten apple. My stomach growled, but it was a small price to pay for hope.

Hours passed, marked by the ticking clock. At five-thirty, I took a quick shower, trying to wash away the troubles of the day.

Dressed in my simplest but cleanest clothes, I felt out of place at the thought of working at a fancy restaurant. 'I can do this,' I reassured myself.

I arrived at M & C, where Mikey was waiting with a garment bag. "Don't worry, I got a tux from a friend. You might need to adjust the tie, but it'll work," he said.

Changing in the restroom, the tux was snug but decent. I looked in the mirror, a mix of nervousness and determination in my eyes.

"Ready?" Mikey asked as I emerged.

"As I'll ever be," I replied, trying to sound confident.

The evening was a whirlwind of activity. I was quickly trained and thrown into the thick of it – serving tables, pouring wine, trying my best to remain polite and professional. It was exhausting but a welcome distraction from my earlier troubles.

As the closing hour of the restaurant approached, I found myself getting into the rhythm of this unexpected job. Mikey's voice snapped me back to reality. "Ethan, we've got guests at VIP Table 7. Check on their order."

Nodding, I approached Table 7, trying to steady my steps, my mind still reeling from the night's events. But as I reached the table, my heart skipped a beat.

"Sophia?" I whispered in disbelief. 'Or are my eyes playing tricks on me?’ I asked myself as I blinked a few times.

But there she was, sitting across from James Martinez.

James, with his chiseled jaw and confident air, was a well-known figure – the heir to the Martinez Group of Companies, a big name in wealth and influence. The college heartthrob.

“What are you doing here, Soph? With him?" I asked.

"Do you have a problem with that?" Sophia's voice sliced through my thoughts. "I'm here on a date with my boyfriend," she declared.

"Boyfriend?" The word echoed painfully in my mind.

I was still processing this when James spoke up. "Excuse me. Do you have a problem with my girlfriend?" His tone was sharp, a clear warning. "You're here to wait tables, not to interfere."

Confused and hurt, I blurted out, "How long have you two been dating?"

James's irritation was clear. "Are you some sort of questionnaire? We've been together for over 5 months. Now, do your job, or I'll speak to your superiors. I just talked to Mr. Carter, the owner."

The realization hit hard – Sophia had been with James while being with me. The sense of betrayal was overwhelming.

My heart sank. I knew I had to stay composed, but I could feel the eyes of other patrons on me. With trembling hands, I reached for the wine bottle to pour it, but suddenly, I felt a nudge on my arm. The wine spilled all over the table and onto James.

James stood up in anger, slapping me across the cheek. "Are you that stupid or blind that you can't pour wine into a glass?"

Hand on my stinging cheek, I turned to see Sophia smirking. She had nudged me, causing the spill.

Mikey and another waiter were at my side in an instant, their words a flurry of apologies as they tried to calm the situation. Mikey guided James away, leaving me standing there, feeling numb and completely disoriented.

"What's wrong with you, man? What was that about?" Mikey asked me, once we were alone.

"It wasn't intentional," I managed to say, my voice a mix of shock and resignation.

Mikey just shook his head. "You just blew your chance of coming back here."

After he finished admonishing me, I asked if I could leave. I collected my pay for the night, changed out of the tuxedo, and soon found myself outside, waiting.

I needed closure. I wanted to hear from Sophia herself that it was over, that she didn't love me anymore, so I could try to move on.

Waiting there, a mere shadow against the dim streetlight, the cold air bit into my skin, but the chill of betrayal cut even deeper.

Time dragged on until finally, the restaurant's doors opened. There were James and Sophia, their laughter piercing the night as they emerged wrapped in each other's arms.

Seeing them so close, his hand on her back, her arm around him, was like a visual confirmation of my worst fears. It was a sight that reopened the wounds in my heart.

As they stopped to share a kiss, I felt my heart breaking all over again. Driven by hurt and desperation, I approached them, feeling the weight of my emotions with each step.

I pulled Sophia away from James. "Tell me it's over between us, Soph. Tell me you don't love me anymore," I pleaded, my voice a whisper, filled with a futile hope.

James was instantly angry. "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't you know when to quit?" He reclaimed Sophia, demanding she affirm their relationship.

Sophia looked at me, her eyes cold and distant. "Ethan?" she started, her words slicing through the night. "You're handsome, that's all. I didn't fall for you, just your looks. What was I thinking, dating someone like you who couldn't even afford a decent gift?"

Each word she said felt like salt in an open wound, her betrayal and contempt outshining the dim streetlights above. James's smirk only intensified the anger boiling inside me.

Overwhelmed by emotions, I lashed out at James, my fist connecting with his face.

But James, obviously skilled in martial arts was quick to react with a series of precise, powerful blows. I crumbled to the ground, overwhelmed by the pain.

Security guards rushed over, their steps thundering on the quiet street. They pulled James off me, but his threat lingered in the air as he was led away. "Pray I don't catch you somewhere else... It's gonna be hell for you.”

Lying there on the cold ground, a mix of physical pain and emotional turmoil overwhelmed me. I pushed myself up, each movement a protest from my battered body. My walk home mirrored my state - slow, limping, a stark reflection of my crushed spirit and broken heart.

Reaching my apartment, I fumbled for my phone, only to find its screen cracked, a spiderweb of shattered glass greeting me. "Great," I muttered to myself, the word sounding hollow in the empty room.

Sitting in the dim light of my apartment, with pain throbbing in sync with my heartbeat, I couldn't help but fall into a whirlpool of 'what ifs'.

‘What if I had been born into wealth like James? What if I hadn't lost my job today? What if Sophia had really loved me for who I was, not for what I could provide? What if she wasn't in the picture in the first place? What if I and James' status were interchanged?’

These thoughts swirled in my mind, a relentless storm, as I drifted into a fitful sleep.