Dream: Fighter of Love

Jared walks through the dark corridor, illuminated by the dim glow of LED lights embedded in the walls. 

He isn't particularly hungry, yet his feet carry him to the cafeteria like a moth drawn to a flame. 

The cafeteria is filled with murmuring voices—some engaged in quiet conversations, while others are too focused on their hunger to care. Jared moves toward his favorite seat, right in front of the bar. 

With a sigh, he drops his equipment onto the table, feeling the weight lift off his shoulders. 

He had just finished cleaning the corridor on the sixth floor, and now, exhaustion gnawed at him. Cleaning wasn't simple work—it was draining. And now, hunger had finally caught up with him.

Jared took his usual seat, dropping his equipment onto the table with a sigh. His body ached from hours of cleaning the sixth-floor corridor. The work was dull, but hunger gnawed at him now.

Then, he saw the ration worker—a boy around Jared's age, sharp blue eyes, thin blonde hair, and thick brows that gave him a perpetually annoyed expression.

Charles.

Jared leave his table to approach the food stall and wait in line to get his food.

"What do you need?" Charles asked flatly, barely looking up as he prepared the next tray of pre-portioned meals.

Jared smirked. "Cheese pizza. With extra beef and mozzarella. And a soft drink."

Charles stopped mid-motion, turned his head slowly, and gave Jared the deadliest glare imaginable. "Are you stupid, or are you just trying to piss me off?"

Jared grinned. "Alright, alright. What about a juicy beef burger?"

"No."

"Spaghetti?"

Charles slammed a tray down. "We have nutrient blocks, synthetic meat stew, and protein biscuits. Pick one, or get the hell out of my line."

Jared laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll take the bunny steak. And orange juice."

Charles' eye twitched. "Orange juice?"

Jared leaned on the counter. "What? Is that too much to ask?"

Charles slowly placed his hands on the counter and leaned in. "We don't even have real vegetables, and you think we have oranges?"

Jared chuckled. "Hey, a guy can dream."

Without another word, Charles grabbed Jared's collar and pulled him in. "Stop wasting my time and dream somewhere else!"

Jared blinked, then grinned. "You look cute when you're mad."

Charles shoved him back with a scowl and shoved a tray of food in his direction. "Eat your damn ration and get out of my sight!"

"He loves me," Jared grinned as he walked away. But he could still hear Charles grunt behind him, "What a dork!"

As Jared ate his food, he noticed Charles mopping the floor nearby. An idea sparked in his head.

When Charles finally mopped the area around him, Jared casually stepped on the mop, preventing him from moving it.

Charles shot him a glare. "Release my mop. Now." His irritation was obvious.

Jared flashed a confident smile, thinking he had the upper hand. "Only after you agree to go on a date with me."

Charles didn't say a word. Instead, he simply dropped the mop and walked away, disappearing into the kitchen without looking back.

An old man sitting near Jared's table had witnessed the entire exchange. He chuckled and shook his head. "It's futile, boy. He's not into you."

Jared smirked. "Nah… he just needs a little realization. If I disappear for a few days, he'll miss me. And when I come back, he'll be kinder to me."

That was the plan—annoy Charles constantly for days, then disappear completely. During that time, Jared would avoid the cafeteria, only asking The Mentor to bring his food to the room.

The Mentor dropped Jared's meal onto his bed without much concern.

"Here are your takeaways. Delivery successful," The Mentor said before taking a seat in the chair across from the bunk.

"Thanks, Charles," Jared muttered as he grabbed the food and started eating.

"Again, it's ***en**, not Charles," The Mentor corrected him for what felt like the millionth time. He was tired of repeating himself, but he still refused to be called by a name that wasn't his. "I think you should give me a generous tip for my patience."

Jared reached for a few coins from his side table and offered them to The Mentor.

But The Mentor smirked and waved his hand in a dramatic, offended gesture. "Coins? Do I look like someone you can tip with mere coins? I deserve billions."

"I don't have that, unfortunately," Jared said, shrugging as he returned the coins to the table and continued eating.

The Mentor raised an eyebrow. "You know, there's a better way to get attention from someone you like. Wanna hear it?"

Jared didn't even look up. "Nah, I'm good."

He took a huge bite, starving but determined. He needed to avoid the cafeteria—to make Charles notice his absence, to make him miss him. To make him realize that, out of all the people around him, Jared was the one who truly mattered.

After three days, Jared returned to the cafeteria, taking his usual seat. He braced himself, anticipation buzzing in his chest. Charles was there, working at the food stall. Any second now, he'd notice Jared's return. He'd freak out, drop that cold, arrogant attitude, and finally stop being so mean to him.

Jared could already picture it.

So, he got up and walked to the food stall, waiting in line as Charles served the man in front of him with politeness and enthusiasm.

Here it goes…

Jared stepped forward.

But the moment Charles saw him, he didn't even look twice. Instead, he turned away from the stall and called over another worker to take his place. Then, without a word, Charles walked off.

What?! I disappeared for days, and he doesn't even look at me?! Didn't he miss me?!

The plan had failed.

Nearby, the same old man who had spoken to him before sat at his usual spot. He chuckled, shaking his head. "See? I told you. He's not interested. Forget him."

Jared didn't respond. He refused to accept it. No. He wasn't going to walk away humiliated. He was going to prove—to everyone, and especially to Charles—that he could be what Charles needed.

With determination burning in his chest, and his pride now at stake, Jared marched to the supervisor's office. The supervisor managed all job assignments in the bunker, deciding who worked where.

When the supervisor read Jared's request to work in the cafeteria, his expression darkened.

"Are you serious?" He slammed the request down. "You're skilled with tools. You're great at engineering. I even assigned you to Et***** because of your ability to handle multiple high-value tasks, including combat. And you want to waste your talents working in the cafeteria?"

His voice rose in anger. "That job is for people who have nothing to offer! You have real skills—why throw them away?!"

The supervisor refused to approve the request.

Since there was no argument that would convince him. Jared found another way.

He started hanging around the cafeteria constantly, looking for ways to make himself useful. He waited for the perfect opportunity to prove he belonged there.

Deliberately, he carried sacks of potatoes and other harvested fruits, hauling them into the kitchen's storage. He mopped the floors, wiped down tables. Eventually, the head chef told him to peel potatoes. A useless, simple job.

But Jared did it without complaining.

Because if this was the only way to make a positive impression on Charles, then he'd do it.

With time, Charles would see for himself just how serious Jared was, no one could love him better.

Eventually, the habit became routine. Jared no longer had to think much about what he was doing, and without realizing it, someone had sat beside him, quietly helping him peel the potatoes. 

He only noticed when their fingertips brushed against each other. 

"Oh geez! What the—Charles, you startled me!" Jared gasped, his heart jumping from the sudden shock. 

"Wow... no wonder you keep calling me by his name...." The Mentor shook his head. Then, he looked at Jared with a sad expression. "Yesterday, we had a job to fix the generator. Since you weren't there, I had to do it by myself. Apparently, you prefer peeling potatoes over everything else." 

"I do not prefer peeling potatoes! I'm fighting for my love for Charles!" Jared said with conviction. 

The Mentor sighed. "But look at you. And look at him. Does he even care?" 

"He will, in time." 

"But I need you more than he does," The Mentor admitted, his voice quieter this time. 

"What about me? I need someone in my life too. Can't I fight for the person I love?" Jared argued. 

"Yes, you can. But is he worth it?" 

"Yes, he's worth it!" Jared shot back without hesitation. 

"How do you know he's worth it?" The Mentor pressed. 

"Because I love him!" 

The Mentor held Jared's gaze. "What about the people who love you?" 

Jared hesitated, but the words left his mouth before he could stop them. "Well, if I don't choose them back, it means it's futile. It's not meant to be. They should move on." 

Then it hit him. His own words had just stabbed him in the heart. 

The Mentor wiped his eyes, stood up, and walked away without saying another word. 

As soon as he left, the shadows stretched across the room. The light seemed to dim, and suddenly, it was just Jared, alone with a pile of potatoes. 

For what? To impress a boy who never even looked at him? 

He will. 

In time. 

Because hard work always pays off.