Primeton's Poorest Student is Now a Billionaire

Chapter 008 ~ Show Time

Peter was sprawled loosely on his soft, massive bed, snoring loudly like a cow while enjoying his sleep. He had slept past his usual bedtime without even realizing it.

In a few seconds, his phone began to ring. He stretched his hand lazily and grabbed it without checking who the caller was. He placed it to his ear, but the urgent voice on the other end jolted him fully awake.

"Peter!..." the voice screamed. "Bruh, where the hell are you?"

"Owen?" he replied, recognizing the voice. "What’s going on?"

"I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you alright?" Owen panted, sounding relieved after six attempted missed calls.

"Uhm… yes, I am," Peter replied after a yawn.

"It’s 11:31 a.m, bruh, and you’re not here? We’re already done with the first lectures and the rest were cancelled. Miss Wales called in sick so we're free for the day. Are you sure we shouldn’t be worried?"

Peter swallowed hard, rubbing his eyes. It suddenly clicked in his head. He opened his eyes wide and peeked outside the massive window. The bright sunlight nearly blinding him.

"Wait, what? 11 a.m?" He looked at his phone screen and shouted at the top of his voice. "Shiiit!... what was I thinking?"

He rolled off the duvet, slipped on his loafers, and hurried to the bathroom.

"And also, today is Lucia’s birthday. Everyone is already here celebrating with her. She’s asking about you, Pete," Owen added.

"She is?" Peter paused for a moment. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her you were in the hospital. She wanted to visit, but I said you had already been discharged and were on your way to school."

"Oh. Thanks, bruh," Peter muttered with a smile. He stayed silent for a second as a thought crossed his mind. "Owen? Can you cover for me? I need to get something real quick. I’ll be in school in like an hour time."

"Okay, bruh, but you have to hurry up. The party is almost over."

With that, he ended the call and stepped into the bathroom to freshen up.

In less than twelve minutes, he rushed downstairs. He saw loads of food arranged on a long table in the dining area. Mr. Oscar stepped out from the shadows as a maid pushed another food cart toward the table.

"Young Master, you’re finally awake," Oscar said. "Sorry for not waking you earlier. I felt like you didn't need to be disturbed."

"Uh… what’s... going on here? Is there a party or something?" Peter asked confusedly, staring at the assorted meals lining the long table.

"No, no, no," Mr. Oscar replied. "This is your breakfast, Master. I hope you enjoy it."

"My meal? No way!" Peter shook his head in disbelief. "All this… for me alone?"

"Yes, Master. It’s all for you."

"I can’t even finish it. Besides, I’m late for school. Just give them to the maids or the guards. Maybe some other time," he said, grabbing a pancake while rushing out of the mansion, not giving Oscar room to respond.

"But Young Master… Master?—"

There was no response. Peter was already outside.

Lucia had always been there for Peter, even when he was as poor as a church rat. Unlike her sister Sophia, she never befriended him for materialistic benefits.

Although Sophia had met Peter first, Lucia had always acted more like a caring partner. Peter hadn’t seen the signs until now.

Also, ever since Lucia stood up to Primeton’s mean girls who constantly laughed at him and called him worthless, the two had since then become good friends.

Peter had always remained loyal to Sophia, despite the fact that her sister was prettier and more compassionate than her. He loved her regardless. But now it was time to move on and give his attention to someone who truly valued his existence, whether rich or poor.

He thought about what gift to buy Lucia for her birthday but couldn’t think of anything worthy. Then he remembered that his ex, Sophia, had dumped him for a Hermès Birkin bag. That was exactly what he was going to get for Lucia. In fact, he would make sure it was the highest quality and most expensive one available.

In less than thirty minutes after leaving the mansion, he arrived at the K&Q Shopping Mall. One of the most luxurious shopping complexes in the country.

He never imagined that there would be a day in his life he would step foot inside that building. The thought almost brought tears to his eyes, but he held them back.

The mall was enormous, divided into different sections with various high-end brands displayed on large LED screens: Dior, Louis Vuitton, Versace, even his own family brand Gramont, and more.

He stepped inside looking completely simple. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of expensive perfumes and rich customers. Everyone present began staring at him like a madman who had wandered into the wrong place.

"Good morning, Sir. How may I help you?" a female salesperson asked, eyeing him from head to toe as if he didn’t belong there.

"I want to buy a handbag for a friend of mine," Peter said calmly, ignoring the rude behavior and judgmental looks.

The saleswoman sighed inwardly. 'Must be one of those broke customers who come in just to ask prices and then leave, never to be heard from again.' she thought.

"Sir, I’m sorry, but this is an extremely luxurious shopping complex. A handbag here costs no less than four hundred thousand dollars," she said, trying not to waste any more of her time.

"O... kay," Peter murmured, slightly confused. "I know, and that’s exactly why I came here in the first place."

The saleswoman laughed softly to herself, trying to remain as professional as she could. There was no way someone dressed like Peter could afford even the cheapest bag in the mall.

"Okay then, if you say so. There," she pointed lazily. "We have plenty of luxurious brands lined up. You can make your choice."

Peter instantly became annoyed. He noticed that every other customer had a personal staff assisting them. Why was he being treated differently just because he didn’t look rich?

"What do you mean by that?" he said with a creased brow. "Is that how you attend to customers in this mall?"

"Sir, I don’t have the—" The saleswoman stopped mid-sentence as another customer walked in. "Mr. Harrison..." she exclaimed with excitement, completely ignoring Peter.

"Good morning, Mr. Harrison. You’re looking good as always," she said with a professional smile. "And this must be your girlfriend? She looks so pretty."

"Thank you, Jane," the new customer replied. "You’re not looking bad yourself."

The saleswoman who's name was Jane smiled warmly as she addressed the customer, treating Peter as if he didn’t even exist.

"So what have you come to buy today, Sir?" Jane asked.

"My girlfriend says she wants Dior’s latest release and—" Mr. Harrison added, before he was interrupted shortly.

"Uhm… excuse me!" Peter shouted toward Jane. "I’m still here."

"I’ve already told you, Sir, look around, make your choice, and bring it to the counter for payment," Jane replied rudely, still not interested in what Peter had come to do.

The woman with Mr. Harrison stared at Peter twice. Her name was Evelyn. She immediately recognized his face from high school and couldn't help herself.

"Wait… Peter? Peter Lawson?"