I've Become Rich And I Want Revenge

03. The call

The slap resounded in the hallway, echoing the tension that had been building up for years. Brittany, surprised and indignant, stared at Leon, her eyes blazing with anger.

"How dare you talk to me like that!" she shouted.

Leon, without flinching, held her gaze.

"You were there, Brittany. You saw what happened, and you still chose to take his side. Worse still, you were his mistress all this time! All that time I thought you loved me, that you wanted something serious with me!"

"You don't understand anything, Leon. You don't know what it's like to have a reputation to maintain, a guaranteed future."

"Reputation? A guaranteed future? Does that justify what they did to me?"

"Haven't you realized where you are? Have you ever understood, or come close to understanding, what the world is all about? Not the fantasy world you and your father live in, but the real world?"

"You're a viper! A fucking bitch, that's what you are."

"No, you idiot. You can call me whatever you like, but you know it's true. The real world has losers and winners."

"Okay, so you're telling me I should be like him? An idiot who bullies others for their social position? That's not being a winner, that's being a fucking asshole. And even worse, you voluntarily chose to be with that asshole instead of me, who loved you for who you were, not for what you had!"

Brittany hesitated for a moment, as if the weight of her choice was finally making itself felt.

With trembling lips, but trying her best not to show how hurt she was, the young woman spoke in a flawed voice:

"You're weak, Leon. You always have been. Maybe I should have chosen better. Maybe I shouldn't have pitied you at first, dated you because I pitied your misery."

That sentence hurt much more than the slap Leon had received.

The girl walked away, indignant, without looking back.

Tears of real pain rolled down Leon's face as he walked back towards the exit.

Nothing made sense anymore.

As he walked down the street, Leon realized the harsh truth.

He really was weak. A loser. Stupid and over-emotional.

Giving his heart to a rich, beautiful girl who said she loved him was the dumbest thing he could have done.

She never loved him.

Pity. That was the word Brittany used.

Leon didn't bother to wipe away his tears as he continued to walk aimlessly through the main streets of the city.

The more he walked, the more he thought there was no end to his anguish.

His father couldn't help him. In fact, it would be even more humiliating to tell him.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hardly noticed when a group of women passed him, all dressed exquisitely in fur coats and designer handbags that screamed wealth.

They were all at least forty years old. Some smoked, others just fiddled with their modern cell phones. One of them looked at him.

And immediately made a face of disgust.

Making no effort to appear discreet, the woman said to her friend next to her:

"They should clean up this city. I hate to think that we have to share our space with this bunch of miserable slobs."

The woman next to her laughed at the joke.

Leon walked faster.

The more he looked at the people around him, the more he noticed how much that city screamed wealth.

How many skyscrapers there were, how many beautiful, brand new cars passed by on the street, how many people like him, humble and without so many resources, really existed there.

Most of them, Leon realized, were beggars.

How had he never noticed that?

"I don't fit in," he muttered quietly.

Worse still, Leon was condemned to it forever. Unless a miracle happened, he would always be poor. Poor and humiliated for being poor, which was ten times worse.

The boy already knew where he was going.

To the local beach, where instead of sand, huge blocks of granite met the sea far below.

The end of the line. There was no longer any reason to stay in that world where he would forever be miserable.

He cried openly now, thinking not only of his school years as a punching bag, but mainly of having struggled to impress a girl who, in the end, was as bad or worse than them.

Dean and the other aggressors didn't pretend to be his friends, they always made it clear that they saw him as a worm. Brittany pretended everything from the start. Brittany always said loving words to him, words that Leon believed.

Damn him for believing them, damn him for loving her.

The beach was close by.

The smell of salt and wind hit him hard, but he didn't care.

No, Leon didn't care as he continued walking quickly, his hands in his trouser pockets, as he cried for his life for the last time.

He could already see the sea, blue and immense.

Walking faster and faster, the boy was finally where he wanted to be: right next to the protruding rocks.

Leaning over subtly to get a better look, Leon saw what was waiting for him: a huge chasm that only ended in the sea: the sea that would hide more sharp and deadly rocks as soon as Leon's body fell into it.

Let it be quick. Let the waves or the rocks take him.

He no longer cared about anything. He didn't care if his father suffered. He didn't care if that damned bitch felt bad after they told her what Leon had done.

Taking a deep breath, the young man prepared to jump, to face his own end.

Then the cell phone in his pocket began to ring.

Leon let the phone ring once. Twice.

Frustrated, he checked who was calling.

His father.

Swallowing back the tears, Leon answered.

"Hi, Dad."

Leon's father's voice was unusually cheerful:

"My son, come home now!"

"What happened?"

"A miracle, my son! A miracle!"

Leon just sighed.

"What do you mean, Dad? What do you mean?"

"We're rich, Leon!"

The boy almost choked.

"What?!"

"That's what I'm saying! I've won a big cash prize! I'm going to the bank right now. We're rich! Even more, my son! We're millionaires!"