Going To A Mall. 2

Miles slowly made his way into the store, feeling very out of place, but still beaming with excitement. As he entered, he approached a rack of hanged clothes, and browsed through them, picking out a shirt he liked for himself.

He soon became so immersed in this, that he didn't notice the lady in heels approaching him.

"What do you think you're doing?" She said in a loud voice, stunning Miles, who was taken aback by the sudden distraction.

"Wha-What do you mean? I-I'm just a customer here," he said with a shaky voice. You could tell he wasn't accustomed to handling confrontations yet, and was very anxious in this situation.

The woman scoffed, eyeing him from head to toe before continuing. "The likes of you…don't belong in a place like this, get out before I call security," she said with a firm voice.

Miles was greatly disturbed when he heard this. The clothes he'd grabbed so far were in one hand, while he clenched his fists with the other, staring at the ground as he did so.

'She, she's right, why did I get so ahead of myself, should I just leave? I thought that because I have money now I could do whatever I wanted, maybe I really don't belong here.' A whirlwind of thoughts flooded his mind at once, and seeing his dejected behavior, the receptionist thought she had probably won the confrontation.

'Good,' she thought as she smirked. 'Kids like him should know their place and know that you can't just waltz in anywhere and act like you own the place.'

The other customers in the store were starting to notice the commotion as well, and began whispering to each other and pointing fingers at Miles.

Seeing this, her smile widened even further. 'Good, now I just have to get security and get him out of here,' she thought to herself.

But unbeknownst to her, Miles was having an internal battle, and felt the anger begin to well up inside him.

'No, I can't back down now. I've been abused for too long, by my aunt, my boss, people at school, my boss, heck even my own girlfriend cheated on me with some rich bum,' he thought.

'I'm tired of the abuse, of being treated wrongly, I'm not even doing anything wrong!'

Haaa…He took a deep breath as he was about to speak.

"Like I said earlier, I'm not doing anything wrong. Why don't you have a problem with me when I'm not causing any trouble?" He snapped back.

Her eyes widened, she didn't expect him to respond so defiantly.

'Shit, I have to salvage the situation quickly,' she thought, quickly thinking of how she could get the crowd's favor back to her side.

"You can't expect me to believe that you can afford anything here, I mean you don't look like the typical customer this mall attracts."

No one could deny that she had a point, but still, this was harassment, and Miles wouldn't stand for it.

"You know you really should judge a book by its cover," he responded.

"And why shouldn't I, you clearly don't belong here!" She snapped back.

Her words stung, and Miles was deeply hurt by it. But he stood his ground, keeping his expression neutral.

"I'm not breaking any laws by being here. Oh and by the way isn't harassing customers against store policy?" He said with a firm and defiant voice.

Everyone could feel the tension in the air.. A few customers had already been watching the exchange, stealing glances while pretending to browse the nearby shelves. Now, as Miles' voice grew firmer and the argument gained more momentum, even more people began to take notice. Shoppers whispered amongst themselves, their eyes shifting from Miles to the employee and back to Miles.

The woman, who had been so confident a moment ago, suddenly seemed to realize the growing audience. Her smirk lessened, and her grip tightened around the notepad she held.

Miles, on the other hand, remained focused as he stared her down. He wasn't raising his voice, wasn't causing a scent…yet, somehow, he was winning.

The realization struck her. She wasn't just dealing with some poor delivery boy she could dismiss without consequence. People were watching now, and if she kept pushing, she might be the one in trouble. But pride was a dangerous thing, and she wasn't about to back down so easily.

Without another word, Miles turned on his heel and strode toward the entrance of another one of the luxury clothing stores. His sudden movement made the employee hesitate, and her mouth opened halfway as if she'd been about to say something. Instead, she stood frozen, watching as he walked with confidence.

More heads turned as he moved, the small crowd of onlookers growing. Some whispered among themselves, intrigued by the unfolding drama. Others simply stared, waiting to see what this unfashionably dressed boy was about to do in a store where a single jacket could cost more than his entire outfit.

Miles didn't stop. He reached the store's entrance and immediately locked eyes with one of the attendants. The man in a black uniform hesitated, shocked by Miles' sudden approach.

"Bring me a cart and fetch me a batch of clothes," Miles said with a calm but firm voice.

The attendant blinked when he heard this. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Miles said. "Do it."

The employee who had confronted him earlier could only watch, and her expression darkened as the realization hit her…this was no ordinary delivery boy.

The entire mall seemed to hold its breath. Shoppers who had merely glanced at the scene before were now fully invested in it, their desire to see how everything would play out now overweighed them running their own personal errands.

Employees peeked from behind various counters, security guards outside stores shifted closer, and even the store attendants, who had just finished settling Miles' purchase, stared with wide eyes.

Miles stood in front of the register. The towering stack of clothes beside him was neatly folded, the attendants ensured that each piece was selected from the store's premium collection.

The price was read out loud moments ago, and the number alone sent shock through the watching crowd, and these were rich people.

The employee who had confronted him earlier stood still, she folded her arms over her chest as if trying to protect herself from the humiliation creeping in.

She wanted to speak, to find a way to salvage her pride, but that opportunity had already passed. Now, all eyes were on Miles.

And then, with an almost theatrical slowness, he dipped into his pocket and pulled out his sleek black ATM card. The store went completely silent. The murmurs, the whispers, the judgment—it all stopped.

Because in a place like this, everyone knew what having a black card meant.