Rebate System: From Poor Student To Billionaire Playboy

Chapter 2. The Rebate System Awakens

"What the fuck?!"

The words tore from Harry before he could stop them. His voice broke, half incredulity, half devastation.

Alicia rolled her gray eyes, got off Marcus and covered herself with a duvet, her face blank, almost bored. "Why are you raising your voice at me? Have you lost your mind?" she said with an annoyed expression, as if he was some stranger interrupting her business.

And Harry didn't know what to say to her.

Marcus was lounging on the couch, bare-chested, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Farrow," he drawled, "I didn't know you still did deliveries. Wait! What's that other thing you are holding?” Marcus asked as his gaze fell on the wrapped gift Harry was holding.

Harry's throat closed up. He could barely breathe. "I—I brought your order," he stammered, voice trembling. His eyes darted back and forth between them. "And this—" He raised his trembling fingers, holding up the small gift bag. "This is the birthday gift I bought for you. I wanted to surprise you tonight, but here you are riding this…..”

Marcus stood, pulling the bag from his hand before he could finish. He ripped the gift wrapper off and pulled the handbag out, an eyebrow rising. "You spent your money on this?"

Alicia rolled her eyes, drawing the sheet over her lap. "Marcus, just hand it to me."

But Marcus smirked, turning the bag upside down as if it was a joke. "This is fake," he said. "Did you really think you could afford something this expensive?"

Harry moved forward, his jaw tightening. "That's not fake. Stop lying. I bought it from—\-"

He was interrupted by laughter from the second entrance of the room. Marcus's two other friends were at the doorway, phones already recording. "Yo, Marcus, what's going on?" one of them taunted.

Marcus let the bag fall to the ground. "Our delivery boy here thinks he's dating my girl."

The laughter grew louder. One of them leaned closer to Harry, phone still raised. "You serious, bro? You thought this model chick wanted anything to do with your broke ass?"

Harry's fists tightened. "Alicia, tell them. Tell them this isn't—"

“Dude, I don’t know how you got that impression that we were anything other than friends,” Alicia cut him off. “I tolerated you but that doesn't give you the right to say nonsense. I will never date someone as poor as you.”

Something inside him broke. All those months of sacrifices, the skipped meals, the sleepless nights working overtime just to make her smile, lost in a moment. It was all nothing to her.

"I gave you everything," Harry muttered under his breath. "I fucking love you. You said—

“Pathetic,” Marcus muttered, stepping forward until he was inches from Harry’s face. He was taller, broader, and stronger than him. “You’re a loser, Farrow. You’ll always be a loser. You can never have my girl.”

Then came the hard shove. Harry stumbled backward, hit the wall. The laughter got louder.

“Don’t touch me,” Harry said through gritted teeth. His voice shook.

Marcus’s grin widened. He shoved him again, he tried to punch him, Harry dodged it. But he ended up hitting his face on the wall.

Pain exploded in his face. He staggered, had no time to react before a second punch landed, he fell to the ground. Marcus immediately accompanied it with kicks to his ribs and anywhere he could. His vision blurred, but immediately Marcus seized Harry by the collar he pushed Marcus with all the strength he could muster. The spoiled brat stumbled back, grasping for anything before hitting the floor. Everyone gasped, Harry used the distraction to run to the door.

"I am going to make you pay for this, Farrow. You better run," Marcus said coldly.

Harry looked at Alicia one last time, but she was just focused on Marcus.

He took Marcus's words seriously and ran away before his friends would come for him, leaving the bag there.

*********

The outside sunlight felt spiteful. Harry's legs trembled as he moved, and he started tasting blood in his mouth. He could barely see a straight line. Every step felt heavier than the last.

He reached the Crestview Student Diner where he worked, a small structure near the central campus plaza, and opened the door. His apron was still hanging on the hook behind the counter. Mr. Davis glanced up from the register, eyes squinting.

He snapped. “What the hell happened to you? In fact, what did you do there?”

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He could taste iron, feel the sting in his ribs every time he breathed. “I—delivered the order to Marcus Winter, and he—”

"Oh, I heard what went down, all right," Davis interrupted, pulling off his glasses. "Marcus called. He said you messed up his order, spilled food all over his carpet, and you even tried to get into a fight with him."

"That's not what happened!" Harry exclaimed, his voice cracking. "He's lying—"

"Save it," Davis barked. "You're done here, Farrow. I don't need hotheads working for me."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Please, Mr. Davis, I need this job. I promise, I didn't do anything wrong. You know me—"

"I know you always make excuses. I know you bring drama wherever you go. Clean out your locker. You're fired."

The words stung worse than Marcus's blows.

Harry stood there unmoving, breathless. A few of his co-workers stared at him from the other side of the counter, whispering to each other. He turned away before they could see the tears forming in his eyes.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket outside, and to shock his screen was cracked. This must have happened when Marcus was kicking him all over. He turned it on and checked the time, he was ten minutes late to the make-up test.

“Shit,” he breathed.

He ran across the campus courtyard, past the fountain, through the student halls. Every breath burned in his chest, but he didn’t stop. Not until he reached the lecture hall door.

But it was locked.

He banged on it. “Professor! Please, it’s Harry Farrow! I—”

The door cracked open slightly, revealing Professor Matthews’s sharp, unimpressed face. “You’re late, Mr Farrow,” he said. “The test ended five minutes ago. It was a very brief affair.”

"Please," Harry said, his voice breaking. "You don't know. I just…something happened to me—"

Matthews sighed and closed the door halfway. "Rules are rules, young man. Tough luck next semester, if you can even afford it." The door closed.

Harry stood there, unmoving, his eyes staring at the blank wood in front of him. His chest tightened until he thought it would burst.

His scholarship. His only hope of becoming a university graduate was gone. Paying the school's huge tuition isn't that could ever be possible for him to do.

By the time the sun dipped behind the buildings, Harry's feet had carried him through the gates off campus, down the empty road that led to the train tracks.

He stopped near the middle of the tracks and looked down the line. His hands shook, his mind blank.

He thought about his life. He thought of all the possible scenarios that might I occur if he insisted living and none of it was good

"What's the point of living, if all there's to life is misery?" he muttered.

He walked ahead until the metal railing hummed beneath his feet. In the distance, he could see the light of an oncoming train.

The wind whipped through his hair, the sound grew louder, closer, faster—

Then a sound that didn't belong. A chime.

It sounded mechanical and crisp, ringing out in the air ahead of him. Then came the cyan screen.

A glowing notice appeared right in front of his eyes:

> "Rebate System Activated."

"You have suffered maximum emotional loss."

"Cashback applied: $5,000."

Harry halted in his tracks, he was still contemplating if this was real when a train's horn exploded in his ears.

He looked up, the headlight filled his vision, twenty feet away and closing fast.