Rick's Scheme

"Oh wow, someone got ignored by his wife!" Rick sprang back to life after seeing Alex being cold-shouldered. He leaned against the sofa, crossed his legs, and smirked at Alex.

After all, it was a game of mutual teasing, and the two were alike—birds of a feather. Truly, they were perfect partners in crime.

"Seems like you're itching for me to reveal the details of our little agreement," Alex replied, not one to be easily outdone, turning the tables on Rick.

"Alright, alright, I surrender! Happy now?" Rick quickly gave in.

Damn it, you're impossible. No wonder your wife is mad at you; I hope she never talks to you again, and you die lonely, Rick thought grumpily. But in truth, both of them were in the same boat, each dealing with their own relationship woes. Neither could really laugh at the other.

As a result of being on the outs with their partners, the lunch ended in silence. Despite Rick's attempts to spark a conversation several times, no one paid him any attention, and he eventually gave up.

As they left the restaurant, Alex tried to hold Mark's hand, but Mark pushed him away and walked off ahead.

Rick snickered as he watched, but when he tried to talk to Howard, he was left behind, getting the cold shoulder himself.

"What's up with the bottoms these days? Why are they so hard to handle?" Rick put an arm around Alex's shoulder, watching as Howard and Mark walked away.

Alex didn't bother with Rick, shrugging him off and brushing the spot where Rick had touched, as if dusting off something dirty. Without a word, he walked away, leaving Rick to regain his balance and chase after him. "Hey, wait up, Alex! Don't just leave me hanging like that!"

But Alex, deep in thought about how to make amends with Mark, ignored Rick's pleas.

Meanwhile, Grace stood fuming at the restaurant's entrance, stomping her feet in frustration. "Mark, you'll pay for this!" she seethed, believing Mark had embarrassed her on purpose.

"Grace, come over here," the manager called out, putting her phone in her pocket, her face stern.

"O-okay," Grace quickly approached, her earlier arrogance replaced by fear.

"Is there something you need, Manager?" Grace asked nervously, glancing up at her boss.

The manager pointed towards the employee corridor on the first floor. "Go change out of your uniform," she ordered.

Grace froze. "But my shift isn't over yet."

"Didn't you understand me? You're fired," the manager said coldly, crossing her arms.

"W-what? Fired? Why?" Grace's voice rose in panic, clutching her chest.

"You're a temp. Do I need a reason to fire you?" The manager looked down at Grace with icy disdain.

Grace bit her lip, feeling indignant. Damn old hag, abusing your power, she thought angrily.

"If you don't leave now, I'll have to call security."

"This place isn't worth it anyway! I'm leaving," Grace snapped, tearing off her name tag and throwing it at the manager's face.

The manager's anger flared as she pointed after Grace. "You won't get paid for this month either. Now get out!"

"Good, because I don't want your measly pay! Keep it for your funeral fund," Grace retorted, slamming the changing room door behind her.

"You'll never amount to anything with that attitude. You'll always be a worthless temp," the manager fumed, her chest heaving.

The other employees were startled but not surprised by Grace's firing. They had long been annoyed by her behavior—she treated wealthy customers well and ignored those she deemed unworthy. They had seen this coming.

But Grace's firing wasn't for her poor work ethic; Alex had made sure she was let go after she insulted Mark. The restaurant was owned by someone Alex knew.

"Rotten hag, I hope you die soon," Grace muttered as she changed her clothes, cursing the manager under her breath.

As she walked out of the back door and into the alley, her phone rang. It was her brother, Kyle.

"What do you want?" she snapped, still angry.

"Dad wants you to stay employed," Kyle began.

"I quit."

"You're 26 and you can't even hold a temp job for a month," Kyle sighed.

"That's none of your business. Do I need your support?"

Kyle was frustrated. "Dad's little restaurant got shut down yesterday. We're only living off Mom's income now. Don't you understand how serious this is?" he asked, trying to keep his anger in check.

"What do you mean the restaurant was shut down?"

"For health code violations, plus issues with the business license. I didn't ask for the details. We have no income now."

"You brat, why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I'm telling you now! I just found out myself," Kyle snapped, growing irritated.

Kyle and Mark were similar in appearance, both cute in a way, but Kyle was quieter, more reserved. They were the same age and attended the same university. Kyle was the only person in the Ye family who didn't bully Mark; in fact, he had even helped him.

"So, you like guys, huh?" Grace suddenly asked, her tone serious.

Kyle froze, clearly shocked. But instead of panicking, he admitted it. "Yes, I do. So what?"

Grace smirked. "That brat Mark has snagged a big fish. You should go steal him away."

Kyle clenched his fists. "Why do you always target Mark?"

"Because I can't stand him!" Grace snapped. "If you don't go after that guy, I'll tell Mom and Dad you're gay. Let's see how you handle that."

Kyle was furious. He knew Grace was horrible, but he hadn't expected her to stoop so low.

"Don't worry, the guy's rich and handsome. You'll thank me later."

"I'm not as cheap as you. I don't just go after anyone."

Kyle hung up, tossing his phone onto his desk in anger.

"She's insane."

## Chapter 38: A Kiss for Alex

"You little brat, can't you be quiet?" Kyle's father bellowed from the living room after hearing the noise from Kyle kicking his desk.

"Got it," Kyle snapped back, frustrated. Then he buried his head in his hands, cursing, "This is driving me crazy."

His phone chimed again, another message. Kyle didn't even look, knowing it was probably Grace, angry that he hadn't responded to her last threat.

"Ha ha ha! That's hilarious! Too funny!" Kyle's father cackled from the living room. His laughter was louder than Kyle's earlier outburst.

Since the restaurant was shut down, his father had been lounging around the house, drinking, watching TV, and living in a slovenly state.

"A man who doesn't shower for a week in this heat? No wonder the restaurant failed a health inspection," Kyle muttered, covering his ears, trying to block out the noise. But it was impossible to ignore. The TV was blaring, especially loud during the soccer game his father was watching.

"I can't stay in this hellhole any longer," Kyle thought, feeling like he was losing his mind. He couldn't focus on his thesis.

Unable to take it anymore, he jumped onto his bed, pulled the covers over himself, and reached for his phone.

As expected, it was another threatening message from Grace.

"Does she think I'm a gigolo? Or that any man will do?" he muttered. But then fear set in. If he didn't go along with her, she'd tell their parents he was gay. What would he do then?

Kyle's parents were harsh. They wouldn't hesitate to beat him, and they might even send him to a mental institution, thinking he was sick.

"No, I can't let that happen. I won't go to a place like that," Kyle shuddered, biting his finger as he tried to stop trembling, but tears streamed down his face uncontrollably.

A friend of his had been sent to a conversion therapy center after his family found out he was gay. When he came out, he was a broken shell of a person, unable to recognize even his closest friends.

The more Kyle thought about it, the more terrified he became. He curled up on his bed, biting his hand to stop himself from crying.

Desperate for some form of comfort, he shakily picked up his phone, but there were no new messages.

Not giving up, he dialed a number saved under "Uncle," but the call couldn't connect.

Kyle burst into tears, throwing his phone across the room as he cursed, "You bastard! Just up and disappeared!"

He cried for what felt like an eternity before finally sitting up, wiping his tears away.

"To someone like you, a grown man, I must be nothing more than a forgettable kid. You have plenty of others like me in your life," he scoffed at himself, picking up his phone to call Mark. His voice was hoarse when he asked, "Where are you?"

Mark, who was sipping milk tea in Alex's office, was puzzled—Kyle had never called him before.

"Is something wrong?" Mark asked, a bit surprised.

Although they hadn't spoken much, Mark had a good impression of Kyle because Kyle had helped him before.

Kyle wiped his tears, forcing himself to stay calm before he spoke. "I had a fight with my dad. I've got nowhere else to go."

Another fight? He's probably been hit again, Mark thought, feeling concerned. Kyle's father was known to be violent.

But I can't bring him to stay at Alex's place, Mark thought, torn

. He glanced at Alex, who was working by the window.

Alex looked up, meeting Mark's eyes. He smiled and beckoned Mark over.

Normally, Mark would ignore him, but needing a favor, he walked barefoot over to Alex.

Standing at Alex's desk, he hesitated before finally speaking up, "Can I ask you for a favor?"

Alex instantly knew Mark needed something. Until now, Mark had been ignoring him, even after he bought milk tea. But now he was being obedient.

Sensing an opportunity to make up for earlier, Alex leaned forward on his desk, fingers interlocked, and smiled. "Do you need my help?"

Mark nodded quickly. "Can I bring someone over to stay for a night?"

Alex wasn't about to pass up a chance like this. "Not just one person—bring a hundred if you want."

"Really?" Mark's eyes lit up.

"Of course, but you'll have to give me a reward," Alex said, seizing the chance to get something in return. He pointed to his cheek.

Without hesitation, Mark stood on tiptoe and leaned over the desk, planting a kiss on Alex's cheek.