The Supreme God of Wealth

Rain hammered the campus like it had a grudge against everything below. Students ran from buildings, dodging puddles that turned sidewalks into traps. Adam stood under a leaky awning, his cheap sneakers already soaked through. He checked his watch again, the cracked screen barely readable. Five minutes late. Olivia should be here by now.

A group of guys jogged past, laughing about some party. One bumped Adam's shoulder hard enough to knock him back a step. "Watch it, tubby," the guy snarled without looking back. Adam swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the ground. He pulled his jacket tighter, but it did nothing to hide the way his belly strained against the zipper.

Then he heard her voice cutting through the downpour. Olivia dashed toward the overhang, her cheerleader skirt plastered to her legs, arms shielding her perfect hair. Adam stepped out, yanking off his jacket to hold it over her head like a shield. Water streamed down his face, but he grinned anyway. "Hey, I was waiting for you. Happy Valentine's Day."

She shoved him back so hard he stumbled into a puddle. "Get off me, you creep." Her eyes raked over him like he was dirt on her shoe. Students nearby slowed down, umbrellas tilting as they watched.

Adam's smile faded. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out the small box he'd saved up for weeks to buy. "I know we couldn't do the fancy dinner, but I got this for you. It's a necklace. I thought you'd like it."

She snatched the box and ripped it open. The chain dangled from her fingers, a simple silver heart with a fake gem. Her lip curled. "This? You seriously think I'd put this trash on my neck? It looks like it came from a vending machine at a gas station. God, Adam, you're pathetic."

She flung it into the mud, where it sank under the rain. Laughter erupted from a couple of girls nearby, phones out, probably snapping pics. Adam bent to pick it up, but his fingers slipped in the wet dirt. "Olivia, I'm sorry. I tried—"

"Sorry? That's all you ever are. A sorry excuse for a boyfriend." Her voice rose, drawing more stares. "Look at you. Fat, broke, and ugly as hell. Do you know what people say? 'How's the cheerleader slumming it with that pig?' I can't even show my face at parties because everyone's whispering about how my boyfriend can't afford a decent gift, let alone a real date. You're a joke, Adam. A walking embarrassment."

He felt his face burn, tears mixing with the rain. "But... why now? We were good—"

"Good? You call this good?" She laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. "You're delusional. I've been seeing someone else for months. Someone who doesn't make me want to puke."

A horn blared twice, cutting through the storm. A sleek black car pulled up, tires splashing water that drenched Adam's pants. The window rolled down, and there was Charles Rick, smirking from the driver's seat. Perfect hair, perfect jaw, perfect everything Adam wasn't. "Babe, you coming? This weather's ruining my leather seats."

Olivia beamed at him, then turned back to Adam with pure venom. "See that? That's a real man. Rich, hot, and he knows how to treat a girl. Not like you, you worthless loser. Don't ever contact me again. I blocked your ass weeks ago." She flipped her hair and sauntered to the car, hips swaying like she was on a runway.

Charles leaned out, grinning. "Hey, fatty. Thanks for keeping her warm till I came along. But word of advice: Hit the gym, or better yet, just disappear." He revved the engine, and Olivia leaned over to kiss him deeply, right there in front of Adam. The car peeled away, spraying more mud across Adam's shirt.

He stood frozen, the necklace clutched in his fist, dripping filth. Whispers buzzed around him. "Did you see that? Poor guy got dumped hard." "Serves him right, looking like that." Adam's chest tightened, like the storm was squeezing the air out of him. How had it come to this? Olivia used to laugh at his jokes, cuddle up to him on movie nights. But now, staring at the taillights vanishing in the rain, he saw the truth. Money and looks trumped everything. He was nothing.

The vibration against his leg felt like an electric shock. He pulled out the phone, the word Aunt flickering on the cracked screen.

"You lazy piece of shit! That worthless bitch you call a mother is causing trouble again. Get over here now, or I'll throw her ass out in the street myself!" His aunt's voice blasted through the speaker, loud enough that a passing student snickered.

Adam winced. "What happened? Is she okay?"

"Just move your fat butt! And don't expect me to baby you when you get here." Click. The line went dead.

He shoved the phone away and started walking, no umbrella, no choice. The rain pelted him like needles, soaking through his clothes in seconds. Cars sped by, honking when he crossed the street too slow. One driver yelled out the window, "Move it, lardass!" Adam kept his head down, feet sloshing in flooded gutters. By the time he reached his aunt's rundown house on the edge of town, he was shivering, teeth chattering.

He knocked, but the door yanked open before his knuckles hit twice. His aunt stood there, a wiry woman in her fifties with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She looked him up and down, sneering. "Took you long enough. You smell like a wet dog. Wipe your feet, or don't bother coming in."

"Aunt, please, what's wrong with Mom?"

She blocked the doorway, arms crossed. "What's wrong? She's always wrong. A drain on everyone. And you? You're no better. Fat, useless boy who can't even keep a girl. Yeah, I heard about that cheerleader dumping you. Whole neighborhood's talking. Pathetic."

Adam's stomach dropped. How did she know already? "Just tell me where she is."

She stepped aside finally, but not before shoving him as he passed. "In her room, making a mess as usual. Don't expect help from me. I've fed and housed that leech long enough."

He rushed down the hall, heart pounding. The door creaked open, and there she was. His mother was sprawled on the floor, her face pale as paper. Blood trickled from her mouth, staining the carpet. Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps, eyes half-open but unfocused.

"Mom!" Adam dropped to his knees, hands shaking as he touched her shoulder. She was cold, clammy. "Mom, can you hear me?" No response, just a weak cough that brought up more blood.

He ran back to the living room, where his aunt lounged on the couch, flipping through channels. "Aunt, call 911! She's bleeding, she's not responding!"

She didn't even look up. "Why? So they can rack up bills we can't pay? Let her go. She's been nothing but trouble since the day she was born. And you—born to a loser like her. Fat, broke, and now alone. Fate's way of saying you don't deserve better."

"Aunt, she's your sister! Please, help me get her to the hospital. The rain's too bad for an ambulance to come quick."

She laughed, a cold bark. "Help? With what? Your weak arms? Look at you, panting from just running down the hall. No wonder that girl left you. Do it yourself, or leave her there. Maybe the world would be better off."

Tears stung his eyes, but he bit them back. No time. He hurried back, hoisting his mom onto his back. She was light, too light, like the sickness had eaten her away. "Hold on, Mom. Just hold on."

Outside, the storm raged harder, wind whipping rain sideways. Adam staggered down the street, his mom's weight pulling him off balance. His foot caught a pothole, and he fell to one knee, scraping it bloody. A car swerved close, horn blaring. "Idiot! Get out of the road!"

He pushed up, legs burning. Every step felt like the world was kicking him down. Puddles soaked his socks, mud caked his jeans. People stared from windows, but no one offered help. Why would they? He was the fat loser carrying his dying mom in the rain.