Chapter 4: Humiliation at Silver Hollow

A long time ago, I started seeing strange barrages in the sky. At first, I thought it was just stress, or maybe a glitch in my contact lenses. I’d squint, shake my head, try to blink them away, the city lights blurring with each attempt.

At first, I thought someone was just messing around, so I ignored them. I figured it was a prank, some weird viral marketing thing, maybe a glitchy app notification.

But when things in real life kept lining up with the barrages, I had no choice but to believe. It was like living inside a reality show, every move commented on by invisible strangers, their words floating in the air like Twitter threads.

From their scattered comments, I pieced together some things. I started jotting notes in my phone, connecting dots, trying to make sense of the chaos and the fate hanging over us.

Mason Drake is the villain. And the villain is doomed to fail. That’s the script, apparently. The universe had handed me a role, and I was supposed to play my part, whether I liked it or not.

Early on, he was the grindstone for the main character; later, he became a stepping stone. I saw it in every snide remark, every loaded glance at parties, every social media whisper.

After seeing the barrages, I tried everything to change the plot’s direction. I’d rewrite our story in my head, plan out alternate endings, dream up escapes, but the world kept pushing us toward disaster.

But Mason still went bankrupt. The world didn’t care about my plans. But that’s okay. I had a new plan. I wasn’t going to let the story end the way they wanted.

......

Mason got up early and worked late, taking orders and delivering food. The city never slept, and neither did he. His phone buzzed nonstop, and he’d dash out the door before sunrise, determined to make it work.

I stayed home, eating the little cake Mason had just brought me. It was a tiny thing, barely a bite, but he’d picked it out himself, and that made it special. The sweetness lingered on my tongue, a reminder of everything he still tried to give me.

Suddenly, a barrage appeared:

*The hero, seriously—after hearing the villain was now delivering food, made sure to give him business, insisting he deliver the engagement cake.*

*The villain’s about to get humiliated by the hero. Just thinking about it feels so good!*

*The protagonist group is ready to mess with the villain.*

*Suddenly feel bad for the villain. He gets a big order and the first thing he does is buy his wife a little cake, not knowing it’s a trap.*

I sensed something was wrong, grabbed my new purse, and rushed to the biggest hotel in Silver Hollow. My heels clicked against the marble floor, heart racing as I dodged traffic and passed the valet parking. The lobby shimmered with crystal chandeliers and polished brass.

At the entrance was a welcome sign for the engagement party of hero Lucas Drake and heroine Quinn Harper. The lobby was packed, laughter spilling out onto the street, the air heavy with champagne and expectation.

Before I could go in, I spotted a striking yellow figure. Mason’s broad shoulders and long legs, even in the delivery uniform, couldn’t hide how handsome he was. He looked out of place, but still carried himself with that old confidence, even as heads turned.

He was pushing a cake over a meter tall, stopped by a few wealthy young men. The cake was ridiculous, stacked high with sugar flowers and gold leaf. Mason’s hands gripped the cart, knuckles white, his jaw set.

Leading them was Lucas Drake, the hero mentioned in the barrage. Lucas’s suit was tailored to perfection, his smile sharp as a knife, eyes cold.

Lucas looked Mason up and down, the contempt in his eyes clearly meant to break Mason’s pride. He smirked, tilting his head, making sure everyone saw the power shift.

"Big brother, when you forced me to move overseas back then, I told you—fortune changes." Lucas’s voice carried, drawing a crowd. I felt my stomach drop, knowing what was coming.

"Look at you now, totally down and out." He spat the words out, and laughter erupted all around. Mason’s jaw clenched, but he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the floor.

After years fighting over the family inheritance, these men—Lucas’s friends—all had deep grudges against Mason. They circled him like sharks, hungry for blood, their designer shoes clicking on the marble.

Having been suppressed by Mason for so long, now that he was down, they were eager to kick him while he was vulnerable. The air was thick with old resentment, every word a dagger.

To make things more entertaining, Lucas’s friend Brandon Walsh spoke up: "Lucas, have you heard something funny—" Brandon’s voice was oily, meant to stir up trouble.

"Mason went bankrupt, and his gold digger is still with him!" He winked at the others, waiting for the laughter.

Another chimed in: "Isn’t that a waste! With him earning a few bucks delivering food, can he still support a woman?" The laughter grew louder and louder. I clenched my fists, wishing I could shut them all up.

Brandon saw Mason wasn’t reacting, so he deliberately tried to provoke him: "How about this, I’ll give you ten grand. Send your arm candy to my house. As long as she serves me well, I’ll..." He leered at me, waving his wallet like a trophy.

Mason raised his bloodshot eyes and punched Brandon to the ground. The crack of fist on jaw echoed through the lobby, bouncing off the marble and chandeliers. Gasps rippled through the crowd, phones raised to catch every second.

"You dare!" Mason’s voice was raw, trembling with rage. Hotel security rushed over, pinning Mason to the ground. The crowd parted, some filming, others whispering, the tension thick as velvet.

Brandon, clutching his bruised face, kicked Mason in the chest. The thud made me flinch. I wanted to run to him, but security held me back, my nails digging into my palms as tears threatened.

"You really think, in your situation now, you can protect anyone?" Brandon spat, voice full of venom. Mason gritted his teeth, glaring fiercely at him, pain etched across his face.

"If you have a problem, come at me." Mason’s voice was steady, defiant, even as he struggled against the guards, blood trickling from his lip.

Lucas signaled Brandon with his eyes. Brandon immediately understood.

He pulled out his phone, pointed it at Mason, and said maliciously: "How about this, as long as you kneel down and bark twice like a dog, I’ll let your arm candy go." He held the phone up, ready to record, smirk widening.

"How about it?" The crowd leaned in, hungry for humiliation. My heart hammered, fury rising. I bit my lip, ready to fight for Mason, no matter what.