Rise Of The Student Pauper

CHAPTER 1

 

 

Darren Wayne rode his old bicycle down the quiet campus road. His legs hurt, but he did not care. He just wanted to see his girlfriend, Clara, before her birthday.

When he reached the girls hostel, he parked by the gate, straightened his worn-out shirt and knocked.

Jessica, Clara's roommate, opened the door. Her eyes moved over his worn clothes, and though she said nothing, her look said it all.

“Oh… it’s you,” she said flatly, leaning on the doorframe like she didn’t want to be there.

“Yeah,” Darren said, forcing a small smile. “Is Clara around?”

Jessica hesitated. “She… actually left.”

“Left? Where?” His voice carried a note of worry.

Jessica crossed her arms. “Home. She said she wanted to celebrate her birthday with her parents. She mentioned it earlier.”

Darren frowned slightly. “She didn’t tell me she was going home.”

Jessica gave a small shrug. “Maybe she didn’t think it was a big deal. Besides,” she added with a faint smirk, “she probably figured you wouldn’t be able to give her the kind of birthday celebration she deserves.”

The words hit Darren like a slap, though she said them casually. He swallowed hard and forced out a shaky laugh. “Right… yeah. Maybe.”

Jessica looked past him toward the bicycle leaning by the wall. “You should get going, Darren. It’s late.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

As the door shut in his face, Darren stood there for a moment, staring at the wooden frame. The ache in his legs suddenly didn’t feel as bad as the ache in his chest. 

He turned around quietly and walked back to his bicycle, the sound of his worn shoes scraping against the pavement.

When he got outside the gate, he pulled out his phone and scrolled to Clara’s contact. His thumb hovered over the call button for a moment before he pressed it.

The line rang twice. Then her voice came through. Her response was cold. “Darren, what is it?”

He hesitated, his heart pounding. “Clara, I… I went by your room. Jessica said you went home?”

“Yeah,” she replied shortly. “It’s my birthday weekend, Darren. I wanted to be with my family.”

He nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “I know, but I was hoping to celebrate with you. Just us. I’ve been saving up,  I was planning to get you something small but nice. I know it’s not much, but—”

She cut him off with a light laugh that wasn’t kind. “Darren, please. You’ve been saving up from what? Your delivery runs?”

“Clara, come on…” he said softly. “I know I don’t have much, but I’m trying. You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Trying doesn’t pay the bills,” she said flatly. “And honestly, Darren, I don’t want another cheap surprise or paper card like last year. I deserve a proper birthday, not one that feels like pity.”

Her words stabbed deeper than she probably realized. “I just wanted to make you happy,” he said quietly.

“You can’t,” she said simply. “Look, I’m tired. I need to go. Don’t call again tonight, okay?”

“Clara, please,” he whispered, his throat tight. “Just come back tomorrow. Give me a chance. I swear, I’ll make it special.”

There was a brief pause. Then her tone turned even colder. “Goodnight, Darren.”

The call ended.

For a long moment, he just sat there on the bicycle seat, staring at the dark screen. The sound of crickets filled the silence around him.

He let out a shaky breath and whispered to himself, “She’ll see. I’ll make it right. I’ll give her something real this time.”

He opened his delivery app, refreshing it again and again, desperate for a new order. “Come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath.

Then all of a sudden, he heard a loud notification beep.

A new notification popped up on his screen.

New Order: Delivery of 3 packs of Durex condoms. 

Delivery F*e: $50.

Note: Deliver within 30 minutes.

His eyes widened. “Fifty dollars?” he said out loud. It was the first time he’d ever seen that kind of payment for a single delivery.

He didn’t care what it was — fifty dollars could buy Clara a dress, or even pay for her favorite cake. His heart lifted for the first time all day. “Thank you,” he murmured to himself, accepting the order immediately.

Without wasting time, he pedaled fast toward the listed address.

The streets were mostly empty now.

After a quick stop at a nearby pharmacy to buy the condoms, he followed the directions on his phone until he reached the destination and nearly stopped breathing.

The house in front of him wasn’t just big, it was enormous. The kind of mansion that screamed money. White walls, tall iron gates, and golden lights glowing across the lawn. He blinked and checked the address again. It matched perfectly.

“This must be it,” he whispered.

The timer on his app was already ticking down. He couldn’t risk losing the order.

He parked his bike quickly outside and rang the bell. No one answered. After a moment, his phone buzzed again with a message.

Message: The door’s open. Come inside and drop the package in the bedroom. Payment will be processed immediately.

He hesitated, frowning. “They want me to go inside?” He looked around. The street was quiet and it scared him to enter a house that huge. He had never been inside such a mansion before.

Then he thought of the fifty dollars and sighed. “It’s fine. I'll just drop it and leave.”

The front door creaked open easily. His sneakers squeaked softly as he followed the directions to the bedroom.

When he reached the slightly open door, he knocked. “Hello? Delivery from SwiftGo,” he said politely.

A young man’s voice answered from inside, breathless. “Yeah, just drop it on the table.”

“Alright,” Darren replied, pushing the door open slightly — and froze.

The room had a dim lantern by the bed, all other lights were turned off before he walked in. 

The sound of low moans filled his ears, mixed with soft gasps and muffled laughter. His stomach tightened. 

He quickly looked down, trying not to stare as he noticed there was a couple making love on the bed. “Sorry—uh, here’s your package. I’ll just leave it here,” he muttered, setting the condoms on the small table beside the door.

He turned to leave when a familiar voice spoke. “Take $50 dollars from the table and leave!”

Everything in him went still. That voice. He knew that voice better than his own heartbeat.

He turned slowly toward the bed, and in that moment, his heart stopped working.

It was Clara.

Her hair was tousled, her skin glowing under the light, and she wasn’t alone. Wrapped around her was Adrian Blake, the richest and most popular guy on campus. They were both naked, making love.

The condom pack slipped from Darren’s trembling hands, landing softly on the carpet. His mouth went dry, his vision blurring at the edges.

“C-Clara?” he whispered.

She froze when she saw him. Her expression shifted. It was shock, guilt, then suddenly, indifference crept onto her face.

She sat up slightly, clutching the sheet around her naked body quickly. “Darren… what are you doing here?”

“I… I took a delivery,” he stammered. His voice cracked. “I didn’t know it was… you.”

Adrian leaned back, shocked. “Clara, who's this?” 

Clara didn’t meet Darren’s eyes. “You shouldn’t have come,” she said coldly. 

Darren let out a broken laugh. “That’s… that's it?” He took a shaky step back. “I spent all day working for you — starving, sweating, saving up for your birthday….”

He clenched his chest tightly. He couldn't process what he just saw…