Rise Of The Ill-treated Michael Wayne

At 8:35, lots of students were in the cafeteria, eating and having a good time. Classes at Winford University usually started by 9:00 am, and Michael Wayne had a class then too.

But here's the thing – he hadn't finished cleaning the cafeteria stairs. He works part-time as a janitor in the school's toilet and cafeteria. So every morning, he wakes up early, cleans up, and tries to make it to class before 9:00.

"I have to hurry up and get to class, Mr. Daniel warned me not to come late to his classes ever again," Micheal murmured.

As Michael diligently scrubbed the floor, walking past the students engrossed in their meals, he couldn't escape the cutting remarks from two guys and three girls.

"The little money he gets paid for cleaning is what he uses to buy food. If he misses work for any reason, he's ready to go hungry for the rest of the day," one whispered to the group and laughter spilled out of their midst.

"Yeah, he's practically begging for change with that mop."

The bitter words stung, and sadness flickered in Michael's eyes, but he remained silent, focusing on his task.

"Seriously, he's so poor. I bet he'd lick the floor if we gave him a dollar."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he enjoys licking our spit of the floor just to get a dollar, at least he could get a slice of bread."

Laughter erupted, echoing in the cafeteria, while Michael's heart sank. The weight of their cruel comments pressed on him, but he held back the bitterness, keeping his eyes on the scrub brush.

"Imagine being that desperate. Must be tough."

"Did you even see his clothes? So filthy!"

"His clothes? There's not enough money for new ones. He's wearing the same T-shirt since he started university, and this is his second year. His pants are cut at the end and patched twice to cover a tear on the knee region," the one closest to him said and they all erupted into a round of laughter as she pointed at the patched-up spot on his jeans.

Michael's jaw clenched, a silent response to the harsh reality he faced. Yet, he said nothing, determined to rise above the spiteful chatter. The floor might be dirty, but Michael's dignity remained intact as he continued scrubbing, a resilient figure in the face of whispered cruelty.

Even though he was a good-looking guy, no one paid him much attention because everyone saw him as the janitor who was lucky to be studying with a scholarship from an orphanage. Only his girlfriend, Sydney, cared about him.

"Hey, janitor! Fancy a quick buck?"

Jack, the assistant leader of the university's basketball team, intentionally spat on the freshly cleaned floor. Holding out a dollar, he drew Michael's attention and made a cruel proposition.

"Janitor!" Jack's voice cut through the cafeteria's background noise for the second time. When Micheal turned around to face him, Jack smirked mischievously.

"Come here for a sec."

Michael reluctantly approached.

"See this?" Jack pointed at his spit on the freshly cleaned floor, holding out a dollar. "Lick it up, and this money is yours."

Michael, with a steely gaze, didn't respond with words. Instead, he looked down at the saliva, then cleaned it up with his mop, refusing to be a pawn in their cruel game.  

As Michael continued his chores, promising himself not to engage in any conversation with them, he suddenly heard a splash of water hitting the floor. Startled, he turned around to find Jack pretending he had mistakenly spilled the dirty water from Michael's bucket. Despite having already cleaned the floor, Jack purposefully kicked the bucket, leaving Michael dumbfounded.

For the first time since the taunts began, Michael spoke up. "I know you did that on purpose, Jack," he confronted, frustration and hurt evident in his voice.

Jack scoffed, denying the accusation. "What are you talking about? I just slipped, alright?"

"You're lying," Michael retorted, his tone firm. "You're just trying to mess with me. Is it because your dad holds a very high position in this university, is that why you think you can treat me as you wish?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Micheal Wayne. I told you it was a mistake, take that and mop it off. After all, you're the janitor, it is your job to clean up the dirt, isn't it?" Jack chuckled.

The commotion drew the attention of the cafeteria's master. With a stern expression, he rushed down to the scene. "What's going on here?" he barked, eyes narrowing at Michael.

"If you can't do your job properly, maybe you don't belong here," he sneered, emphasizing the insult. "Customers don't need your incompetence ruining their meals."

Threatening to sack him, he continued, "Shape up or ship out, janitor. Respect the customers or find another job that suits your limited capabilities." The harsh words hit the air, a heavy cloud of sorrow formed over Michael's dignity.

"He's the one causing trouble, sir," Jack chimed in, a smug grin on his face. "I was just minding my own business."

The master's words cut deeper as he ordered Michael to mop the mess again. "Clean it up properly, or you're out of here. I wonder how you'll eat dinner if I relieved you of this job," he barked.

Cruel laughter erupted from Jack and his group, intensifying the humiliation as they walked away. Even after they left, other students were still laughing and pointing fingers at Micheal.

Michael's heart shattered under the weight of the unjust treatment, but he knew the choice was clear – mop or lose his job. With a heavy heart and wounded pride, he bent down to clean the spilled water, silently enduring the pain of humiliation.

After the grueling task of mopping, Michael checked the clock.

"I can't believe it's 10:00 and I missed Professor Daniel's lecture. Thanks to Jack," he said to himself as he hung his head.

He walked out of the Cafeteria holding his cleaning equipments. He headed toward the bathroom for a quick wash before the upcoming class 12:00 pm.  At the entrance of the bathroom, an unexpected scene unfolded – two pairs of legs under a bathroom door, their intimate sounds echoing through the bathroom halls.

"Disgusting... I'll rather wait out here. Isn't this supposed to be a bathroom for males? How did this guy sneak in hear with a girl?" He mumbled.

Unwilling to intrude, he stepped back, waiting by the hallway, even though there were over 15 toilets in there. He chose patience over the disturbing sound.

"Some girls can be shameless. Why go to a guy's bathroom just for some intimate moment? I'm proud of my girlfriend, Sydney. She would never agree to something like this, not even if my life depended on it," he mumbled to himself, standing with arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall.

After the couple exited the bathroom, Michael observed their departure, casting a glance at their backs. 

"Jack, no shocker there. How did I not know he was the one with a girl in there? He is the campus playboy after all," he muttered quietly, his words barely audible. Not paying any attention to the girl, he dismissed her with a casual glance, and then, he refocused on the immediate task – cleaning the already battered screen of his phone.

Amidst the buzzing activity in the hallway, a familiar voice snagged Michael's attention, prompting him to look up again. 

"I know that voice," he whispered as he stared at the couples' back. This time, his attention was on the girl, since the familiar voice came from her. 

As the couple made their way toward the study hall, curiosity spurred him to trail after them, attempting to dispel unsettling thoughts creeping into his mind. Upon catching up, he gently tapped the girl's shoulder, seeking her attention.

Revealing her face, surprise engulfed Michael as if struck by a ton of bricks. 

"Sydney?"

Standing before him was Sydney, his girlfriend, hand in hand with Jack. His eyes widened in disbelief, and his heart raced with the unexpected revelation, leaving him in a state of total shock.

Sydney's shock matched Michael's as she discreetly withdrew her hand from Jack's grip. Jack furrowed his brows, puzzled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. He didn't understand why Sydney trembled in shock and withdraw her hand from his grasp.

Michael interjected, "Sydney, was that you with Jack in the toilet just now?"

Sydney, caught off guard, struggled to respond, mouth hanging open.

Michael pressed on, "Please, tell me I saw something else, tell me it wasn't you in there."

Aware of the gathering crowd, Sydney swiftly composed herself. She would do everything to turn the shame and attention to Michael instead, "How dare you touch me with those filthy hands cleaning toilet seats for a living?"

The surrounding crowd erupted in laughter and mockery, leaving Michael dumbfounded.

Jack, perplexed, inquired, "How do you even know Micheal? He's in my department."

Sydney, with a dismissive smirk, responded, "Oh, everyone knows Michael, the janitor. The dirtiest and poorest guy on campus. I bet he'd clean a toilet seat with his tongue for a few bucks."

The crowd's laughter intensified, leaving Michael standing there, stunned and humiliated.