From Suffering To Power System

2. The event (2)

Owen hailed a taxi, fuming with anger all the way to Tulips Hall. Upon arriving at the entrance of the garden where the hall was situated, he was dazzled by the magnificence of the venue. The size, the glamour, the decorations, and most annoyingly, the large portrait at the front with a picture of Brad and Val together as a couple, with a message underneath: Happy Birthday, Val.

Owen’s blood boiled. The hall was just up ahead, and without further ado, he strode toward the secured entrance like a tyrant.

“Where do you think you’re going?” one of the security guards stopped him. “This event is exclusive to Brightston College students only, especially those not dressed in rags.”

The guard sized Owen up and down. Even Owen glanced at himself. He was too upset to care what he was wearing at the moment, but it was too late now.

“I just want to see someone,” Owen said. “I’ll be out of here soon. I don’t intend to stay.”

“I said it’s for college students only—”

“I heard that,” Owen interjected. “I’ll be quick.”

The security guard didn’t waste any more time. He stepped aside and let Owen pass through, thinking to himself that Owen would be ashamed once he saw how the others were dressed and would eventually leave when they mocked him.

He wasn’t entirely wrong. Owen was ashamed of his clothes, but he was too angry to care. As for the guests, they couldn’t hide their disgust when they saw him, especially those who recognized him.

“What are you doing here, dressed like that?” they whispered. “Did Brad invite you? He probably did it to mock you. You’d better leave now, or they’ll think you’re here to beg for money.”

While the mocking and teasing continued behind him, Owen didn’t stop until he reached the front, where Brad and Val stood next to each other, still holding hands. Soon, Brad raised his wine glass and spoke loudly.

“To Valentine, the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

The guests roared in unison, cheering as he kissed Val on the lips, his left hand resting on her waist. A moment later, another student walked onto the stage and handed Brad the diamond ring like a groomsman. At first sight, Val gasped in shock, her hand flying to her mouth.

Brad dropped to one knee without hesitation and lifted the box so she could see it.

The hall went silent. Owen waited, watching to see whether Val would accept it.

“Will you—” Brad barely finished speaking when Val jumped with excitement.

“Yes! Yes!” she yelled.

Brad slid the ring onto her finger, and within seconds, their lips collided in a passionate kiss, tongues intertwined, as the crowd went wild with cheers, uproar, and clinking wine glasses.

In that moment, Owen jumped onto the stage, filled with rage. Right in front of everyone, he called out his girl’s name in a loud voice.

“Valentine!”

The hall fell quiet. Brad and Val both paused and turned to see who it was, their jaws dropping in shock.

“Who is this?” Brad asked, clearly irritated.

“I don’t know,” Val replied briskly. “Probably a beggar, can’t you see?”

Owen’s brows narrowed. Breaking up with him was one thing, but denying him was on a whole new level.

“What do you mean you don’t know me, Val?”

“That’s because I don’t,” she answered, staring at him with disdain. “I’m not sure anyone here even recognizes you.”

“He’s the rag boy from school, Owen!” another student yelled from the crowd.

“What is he doing here? This is not a place for people like him!” someone else added.

Owen didn’t listen. His eyes remained fixed on Val.

“After three months together, you claim not to know me?”

Murmurs erupted once again.

“Can Val ever date a broke guy like him?”

“She’s way out of his league.”

Brad turned to Val. He knew about her secret relationship, even though she had never mentioned any names to him. Seeing Owen in person, he couldn’t help but scoff.

“Is this true?” he asked.

“Absolutely not, dear,” Val replied, drawing closer to him. “I would never date a lowly, poor, broke, wretched guy like him. Just look at what he wore to this event, rags.”

Owen could no longer take it.

“You broke up with me, Val, just to be with him? Because he’s wealthier and threw a big party for you? And now you’re denying me too? Please tell me this is all a joke.”

“Hey, back off!” Brad warned, stepping closer to Owen. “Get out of my party, or I’ll kick you out myself. Valentine has nothing to do with you, so beat it, loser. Go beg for love somewhere else.”

Before Brad could finish speaking, Owen punched him across the face, expressing his rage without words. Blood streamed from Brad’s nostrils, and the crowd gasped in horror.

“Oh my God, he just made a huge mistake,” someone said.

“He’s dead,” another whispered.

“How dare you!” Valentine shouted from behind, stepping forward as if she would fight. “Do you know who Brad is? Do you know his family? They will crush you to death, and nothing will happen. Nobody would even notice.”

“I don’t care who he is,” Owen snapped back. “Valentine, why are you supporting him?”

Before he could finish speaking, Brad lunged at him with a loud growl, like a bear. Val moved aside immediately, fear and horror written all over her face.

“Stop! Stop this nonsense, please!” she screamed.

Another reason she was afraid was that Brad had no strength and his bodyguards were absent, while Owen was a street fighter.

In a split second, Brad was on the ground, and Owen was throwing punches, Brad’s face becoming a punching bag. Before other guys could climb onto the stage to rescue him, Brad was bleeding all over.

Three boys pulled Owen away while another bent over to check on Brad. At first, Brad seemed to be moving, wincing in pain, but within seconds, he went still, very still.

The same student bent lower to listen for a heartbeat.

“Guys!” he yelled, not without trepidation. “Brad is not breathing!”