At 8:35, lots of students were in the cafeteria, eating and having a good time. Classes at Winford University usually started by 9:00 am, and Michael Wayne had a class then too.
But here's the thing – he hadn't finished cleaning the cafeteria stairs. He works part-time as a janitor in the school's toilet and cafeteria. So every morning, he wakes up early, cleans up, and tries to make it to class before 9:00.
"I have to hurry up and get to class, Mr. Daniel warned me not to come late to his classes ever again," Micheal murmured.
As Michael diligently scrubbed the floor, walking past the students engrossed in their meals, he couldn't escape the cutting remarks from two guys and three girls.
"The little money he gets paid for cleaning is what he uses to buy food. If he misses work for any reason, he's ready to go hungry for the rest of the day," one whispered to the group and laughter spilled out of their midst.
"Yeah, he's practically begging for change with that mop."
The bitter words stung, and sadness flickered in Michael's eyes, but he remained silent, focusing on his task.
"Seriously, he's so poor. I bet he'd lick the floor if we gave him a dollar."
"It wouldn't surprise me if he enjoys licking our spit of the floor just to get a dollar, at least he could get a slice of bread."
Laughter erupted, echoing in the cafeteria, while Michael's heart sank. The weight of their cruel comments pressed on him, but he held back the bitterness, keeping his eyes on the scrub brush.
"Imagine being that desperate. Must be tough."
"Did you even see his clothes? So filthy!"
"His clothes? There's not enough money for new ones. He's wearing the same T-shirt since he started university, and this is his second year. His pants are cut at the end and patched twice to cover a tear on the knee region," the one closest to him said and they all erupted into a round of laughter as she pointed at the patched-up spot on his jeans.
Michael's jaw clenched, a silent response to the harsh reality he faced. Yet, he said nothing, determined to rise above the spiteful chatter. The floor might be dirty, but Michael's dignity remained intact as he continued scrubbing, a resilient figure in the face of whispered cruelty.
Even though he was a good-looking guy, no one paid him much attention because everyone saw him as the janitor who was lucky to be studying with a scholarship from an orphanage. Only his girlfriend, Sydney, cared about him.
"Hey, janitor! Fancy a quick buck?"
Jack, the assistant leader of the university's basketball team, intentionally spat on the freshly cleaned floor. Holding out a dollar, he drew Michael's attention and made a cruel proposition.
"Janitor!" Jack's voice cut through the cafeteria's background noise for the second time. When Micheal turned around to face him, Jack smirked mischievously.
"Come here for a sec."
Michael reluctantly approached.
"See this?" Jack pointed at his spit on the freshly cleaned floor, holding out a dollar. "Lick it up, and this money is yours."
Michael, with a steely gaze, didn't respond with words. Instead, he looked down at the saliva, then cleaned it up with his mop, refusing to be a pawn in their cruel game.
As Michael continued his chores, promising himself not to engage in any conversation with them, he suddenly heard a splash of water hitting the floor. Startled, he turned around to find Jack pretending he had mistakenly spilled the dirty water from Michael's bucket. Despite having already cleaned the floor, Jack purposefully kicked the bucket, leaving Michael dumbfounded.
For the first time since the taunts began, Michael spoke up. "I know you did that on purpose, Jack," he confronted, frustration and hurt evident in his voice.
Jack scoffed, denying the accusation. "What are you talking about? I just slipped, alright?"
"You're lying," Michael retorted, his tone firm. "You're just trying to mess with me. Is it because your dad holds a very high position in this university, is that why you think you can treat me as you wish?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Micheal Wayne. I told you it was a mistake, take that and mop it off. After all, you're the janitor, it is your job to clean up the dirt, isn't it?" Jack chuckled.
The commotion drew the attention of the cafeteria's master. With a stern expression, he rushed down to the scene. "What's going on here?" he barked, eyes narrowing at Michael.
"If you can't do your job properly, maybe you don't belong here," he sneered, emphasizing the insult. "Customers don't need your incompetence ruining their meals."
Threatening to sack him, he continued, "Shape up or ship out, janitor. Respect the customers or find another job that suits your limited capabilities." The harsh words hit the air, a heavy cloud of sorrow formed over Michael's dignity.
"He's the one causing trouble, sir," Jack chimed in, a smug grin on his face. "I was just minding my own business."
The master's words cut deeper as he ordered Michael to mop the mess again. "Clean it up properly, or you're out of here. I wonder how you'll eat dinner if I relieved you of this job," he barked.
Cruel laughter erupted from Jack and his group, intensifying the humiliation as they walked away. Even after they left, other students were still laughing and pointing fingers at Micheal.
Michael's heart shattered under the weight of the unjust treatment, but he knew the choice was clear – mop or lose his job. With a heavy heart and wounded pride, he bent down to clean the spilled water, silently enduring the pain of humiliation.
After the grueling task of mopping, Michael checked the clock.
"I can't believe it's 10:00 and I missed Professor Daniel's lecture. Thanks to Jack," he said to himself as he hung his head.
He walked out of the Cafeteria holding his cleaning equipments. He headed toward the bathroom for a quick wash before the upcoming class 12:00 pm. At the entrance of the bathroom, an unexpected scene unfolded – two pairs of legs under a bathroom door, their intimate sounds echoing through the bathroom halls.
"Disgusting... I'll rather wait out here. Isn't this supposed to be a bathroom for males? How did this guy sneak in hear with a girl?" He mumbled.
Unwilling to intrude, he stepped back, waiting by the hallway, even though there were over 15 toilets in there. He chose patience over the disturbing sound.
"Some girls can be shameless. Why go to a guy's bathroom just for some intimate moment? I'm proud of my girlfriend, Sydney. She would never agree to something like this, not even if my life depended on it," he mumbled to himself, standing with arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall.
After the couple exited the bathroom, Michael observed their departure, casting a glance at their backs.
"Jack, no shocker there. How did I not know he was the one with a girl in there? He is the campus playboy after all," he muttered quietly, his words barely audible. Not paying any attention to the girl, he dismissed her with a casual glance, and then, he refocused on the immediate task – cleaning the already battered screen of his phone.
Amidst the buzzing activity in the hallway, a familiar voice snagged Michael's attention, prompting him to look up again.
"I know that voice," he whispered as he stared at the couples' back. This time, his attention was on the girl, since the familiar voice came from her.
As the couple made their way toward the study hall, curiosity spurred him to trail after them, attempting to dispel unsettling thoughts creeping into his mind. Upon catching up, he gently tapped the girl's shoulder, seeking her attention.
Revealing her face, surprise engulfed Michael as if struck by a ton of bricks.
"Sydney?"
Standing before him was Sydney, his girlfriend, hand in hand with Jack. His eyes widened in disbelief, and his heart raced with the unexpected revelation, leaving him in a state of total shock.
Sydney's shock matched Michael's as she discreetly withdrew her hand from Jack's grip. Jack furrowed his brows, puzzled by the sudden shift in atmosphere. He didn't understand why Sydney trembled in shock and withdraw her hand from his grasp.
Michael interjected, "Sydney, was that you with Jack in the toilet just now?"
Sydney, caught off guard, struggled to respond, mouth hanging open.
Michael pressed on, "Please, tell me I saw something else, tell me it wasn't you in there."
Aware of the gathering crowd, Sydney swiftly composed herself. She would do everything to turn the shame and attention to Michael instead, "How dare you touch me with those filthy hands cleaning toilet seats for a living?"
The surrounding crowd erupted in laughter and mockery, leaving Michael dumbfounded.
Jack, perplexed, inquired, "How do you even know Micheal? He's in my department."
Sydney, with a dismissive smirk, responded, "Oh, everyone knows Michael, the janitor. The dirtiest and poorest guy on campus. I bet he'd clean a toilet seat with his tongue for a few bucks."
The crowd's laughter intensified, leaving Michael standing there, stunned and humiliated.
Michael, his emotions raw, couldn't hold back."Sydney, you're a cheat! I can't believe you managed to deceive me all these time," he exclaimed, anger rising in him.He reminisced about the romantic moments they shared the night he first asked her out and she agreed. He recalled how he tirelessly worked to scrape together a bit of money to take her to the movies that evening, even going as far as sacrificing meals just to save up enough."After all I did for you, you cheated on me with Jack? The same guy I warned you about, the one who was always picking on me?"In response, Sydney slapped him. Jack, sensing the tension, stepped in, attempting to prevent a physical altercation."Look, you idiot! Why'd you call her a cheat? Has the irritated smell from the toilets decayed your brain, and now you can't reason properly?" Jack taunted, provoking laughter from everyone around, who chimed in, agreeing with Jack."Why would you call a random girl a cheat?" Jack interjectedHeartbroken, Micha
Michael gritted his teeth, anger and rage pulsating through his veins. The laughter that echoed from the surrounding crowd fueled a bitter resentment within him. True, he faced financial struggles, but he refused to let them make him feel less of a human.With a sudden surge of determination, he raised his voice, cutting through the mockery. "Enough!" His command silenced the gathering, eyes now fixed on him.Turning towards Sydney, he spoke with a calm and resilient tone, "I've heard every insult you threw at me, seen the way you played me. But mark my words, Sydney, you'll regret it."The bitterness in his eyes intensified, reddening with a mixture of hurt and defiance. "I may not know how, but I'm going to make money. And the day I do, you'll wish you never belittled me like this," he declared, his words carrying the weight of a promise which he had no idea of how it would be fulfilled yet.With a fierce gaze, Michael turned squarely to face Jack McCoy. The murmured insults from
Michael woke up with determination coursing through him, fueled by a desire to alter his circumstances. He muttered to himself, "Time to make a change," contemplating the steps he needed to take. To improve his financial situation, he set a goal. "I'll ask the cafeteria master for more shifts, even if it means missing a few lectures," Michael declared, ready to confront his financial challenges. . The idea of working extra hours held promise against the constant mockery. Preparing for the day, he couldn't ignore the sorry state of his wardrobe. A couple of worn-out t-shirts were a reminder of his financial struggles. "Maybe with a bit more cash, I can afford a new t-shirt," he pondered, viewing it as a small step towards lifting his spirits. In his pursuit of change, Michael's readiness to forgo lectures in favor of extra work reflected his dedication. "I have to hustle for more," he affirmed, envisioning a future where financial constraints wouldn't dictate his life. Even t
In a moment of uncertainty, Charles reassured Michael, "Relax, Michael Wayne. Meeting Mr. Gareth Winchester will clear things up.""He has the answers to all these questions you've asked. He wants to see you," Charles said to him with a calm smile on his face.Caught between nervousness and curiosity, Michael hesitated. "Sir, look at me. I can't meet someone important in these clothes."Michael glanced down at himself, seeing how bad he looked in the ragged clothes he wore. The clothes were washed, but it didn't look presentable to him. Charles waved it off, saying, "Don't worry about how those clothes look on you anymore. It's just a temporary, only a matter of time and everything will change so quickly.""What do you mean everything will change? I just lost two of my jobs, and I have no other source of income to get new clothes for now," Micheal murmured.Mr. Charles only smiled to whatever he said. Although he didn't explain that which was behind his smile. "Just come with me,
Rushing forward, Mr. Winchester tightly embraced Michael, tears streaming down his face. In the midst of this emotional outpouring, Michael, still bewildered and seeking clarity, questioned, "What's happening? Who are you?"Struggling to compose himself, Mr. Winchester whispered through sobs, "My son."Michael's eyes widened, "Your son?"Mr. Winchester nodded, tears welling up, "I found you. After all these years of searching."Confusion etched on Michael's face, "I don't understand. Can anyone explain what is going on here?"A mix of joy and sorrow painted Mr. Winchester's expression, "You're my missing heir."The weight of those words hung in the air. Michael, caught off guard, sought more answers. "Missing heir? What are you talking about?"However, Mr. Winchester, overwhelmed by the unexpected reunion, couldn't provide the explanations Michael desperately sought. The room echoed with revelations, leaving both men entangled in a moment filled with unanswered questions and the raw
7 DAYS LATERMichael and Mr. Winchester awaited the news of the DNA results. In the midst of this uncertainty, Michael's mind raced with what-ifs.Seven days in the extravangant mansion had been a contrast to his otherwise miserable life. He couldn't help but wonder about the outcome of the coming results.Turning to Mr. Winchester, Michael hesitated before voicing his anxieties."What if, you know, the results say I'm not your son?" he asked, the fear evident in his eyes.Mr. Winchester sighed, a mix of assurance and hope in his gaze."Michael, I have no doubt in my heart. I'm already certain that the results will confirm what I already know."Deep down, Mr. Winchester prayed for the truth to align with his belief. He reminded Michael of the days they had spent together, the laughter, and the undeniable connection that had blossomed between them."Can't you see it, Michael? The way we've bonded, the moments we've shared. It's more than just a connection; it's a father-son bond," Mr.
What a significant transformation Michael has undergone, transitioning from a cafeteria cleaner to a Ferrari owner with a million dollars in his account.The joy overwhelmed him, making it hard to comprehend the surreal reality. The strangeness of the situation, coupled with persistent dizziness, fueled his disbelief.“This must be a dream. How could I see a million dollars in my account? The highest sum I've ever seen was $500, given to me during the time I received a scholarship,” Michael thought, struggling to accept that it wasn't a dream.“Father, just tell me, is this a dream? I am having a really hard time believing it,” Michael vocalized, staring into his father’s eyes. A smile formed on Mr. Winchester’s face, witnessing the shock in his son’s eyes, who was still shivering with his phone trembling in his hands.“Father, please tell me the truth; I still can’t understand how my life has turned drastically within just a week,” Michael expressed, receiving only a smile from his
MONDAY (8:00 AM)The school gate was flooded with many students going in and out. The entire pavement was wet due to the rain that fell the previous night. In fact, it was still drizzling outside as Michael drove towards the gate.Just as he was about to enter the gate, the rain started to fall heavily, and the students scattered across the entire entrance to the school walkway. They were all running from the rain, eager to avoid getting wet.Among these people was a girl who was stranded since she couldn’t run fast like others. She was in Michael’s class.“Kimberly,” Michael’s driver shouted to the girl who was still running. When she stopped, the driver unlocked the car. Rolling down the car window, the driver spoke, “the owner of the car wants you to get in to shield you from the rain.”Kimberly had no idea who the owner of the car was, but she couldn’t remain in the rain and get drenched.The only thing that came to her mind was getting into the car quickly.“Thank you so much,”
Mr Charles sat in the living room with a bandaged arm, watching the news alongside the Winchesters. The atmosphere in the room was filled with the aroma of relief and excitement. It was just few hours after the incidence at Arturo’s underground lair and their faces were all over the news. Michael made a chuckle as he switched from one news channel to another, their faces on any channel he switched to; the whole world was talking about them.This was not the first time he had appeared on the news but this was the first time he had received so much praised.“This ingrate! I hope he rots behind bars,” Mr Winchester said as the anchorwoman confirmed the arrest of the Chief Justice of the Federation.He was merely one out of the 250 EVA members, which included mostly government officials and other prominent persons in the country that were being arrested at the moment.The whole country was in uproar when the vice president himself was dragged out of the government house in handcuffs by M
Michael stood shivering his bones out with blood spilled all over his face and the gun he once pointed against somebody’s head now pointed in the air.To their greatest dismay it was Mr Jones that was shot by Arturo’s men. “Yo-you shot your own man?” Mr Winchester asked in disbelief. He could have instructed them to shoot Michael instead if he wanted, but he chose to order for his own man’s execution. “Yes I did, I was going to kill him anyways. His life ended the moment he let my sister to be killed by you and your men. I did not just expect his death to be this quick, your son false my hand,” Arturo responded coldly.There was no need for the gun in Michael’s hand anymore; his hopes of using the gun to escape died with Mr Jones. Now he must again face what was before him, so he dropped the gun to the ground slowly.“Did you possibly think, I will allow a single man step between me and getting my revenge on you? You underestimated my course, Gareth Winchester!”“When have you becom
The men reacted differently following the disclosure; Mr Charles and Michael’s jaws dropped and their throats went dry in fear. They could only wish the ground should open up and swallow them. They were startled not because they were standing face to face with the man who led EVA and controlled the whole government officials low-key, but the fact that their security men killed his sister and he was probably there to get his revenge on them.But Mr Winchester was kind of excited rather than shocked like the others were. “Arturo! Is it really you? Oh my God! Look at you! I should have recognized you earlier, you’ve grown to be a carbon copy of your dad. Come on, give me a hug man,” Mr Winchester said ignorantly as he opened his arms towards Arturo only to be pushed away.He was so caught up in the realization that the man was the immediate younger brother to his childhood friend Vincent, that he forgot the man he tried to hug was the one behind all the terrible things happening in their
It was of no use struggling, the men overpowered them and covered their faces so that they did not see where they were been taken.Though the car drove on for only forty minutes, to them it felt like forever. Who wouldn’t feel that way when being taken to the unknown by thugs with your face covered.The car finally halted and the men dragged them out as Mr Charles continued to throw empty threats like he had been doing for the past forty minutes. “You morons! Get your dirty hands of me. Harm a hair on Michael and I promise you will never see the lights of day again”. But it fell on deaf ears, the men continued pushing and dragging them where they wanted to without uttering a word.Finally the thugs stopped, they thought they had arrived the location the thugs were supposed to take them. Suddenly, an electronic beep echoed and they could feel the room descending; they were actually in an elevator.It took several minutes before the elevator reached the ground floor. It was like descen
They could not even consider the possibility of Mrs McCoy lying to them about the identity; the Winchester slayer had proved to be wealthy and Influential like they were told about Arturo Adams.Michael was deeply pondered, not for the fact that his dad was a hostage to a drug baron who controls the government but what he might do to him considering the fact that his sister was killed by their security.“What do we do now?” Michael asked his father’s emissary whose legs were already shaking like he had just seen a ghost, anxiety painted all over his face.“Come on Michael, can’t you see the man is almost wetting his pants? The mention of Arturo’s name has taken away his ability to even reason. But let me help you and answer the question for him; the only thing you can do now is return home, pray and hope he doesn’t kill your dad today, but for sure he will definitely kill him not even the almighty could prevent it,” Mrs McCoy said coldly as a wicked smile invaded her face.Mrs clinch
“Do you by any chance happen to know who this Winchester slayer is?” The inspector asked curiously.“No inspector, the Winchester slayer’s real identity still remains a myth to us. But we have come to learn he is not just rich but very influential as well; even the government officials are answerable to him,” Mr Charles said dejectedly.“There are billions of places where he could be holding Mr Winchester. Without knowing who he is, it’s almost impossible to find your boss. Do you at all happens to have any clue of how we might find him?” The inspector asked intriguingly but Mr Charles shook his head slowly.“I think I might know someone who might have a clue of who he is,” Michael said setting the men on their toes. “Mrs McCoy, am sure she knows who this Winchester slayer is,” Michael added.“I will send my men to bring her in for questioning, right now. Don’t worry she will definitely give us the information; even if it requires beating the hell out of her till she vomits it”.“No i
“Nonsense! Lies! I am not going to seat here and let you spread lies against me. There is no post or whatever, you are just making this up,” Mr Raphael said in anger as he banged the table with his fist before getting to his feet.“Yes, Mr Raphael can never abuse a woman; you are fostering lies,” one of the shareholders defended Raphael.Michael made another sly chuckle, “you think am making this up? Okay fine, Mr Charles please display the video before us,” Michael instructed and Mr Charles also made a sly chuckle as he connects the projector to the laptop.Within a minute Mr Charles was already done setting up all the necessary things and the video displayed before everyone in the boardroom.They all watched with their jaws dropped as Mr Raphael’s ex-wife was sobbing while putting her luggage in the trunk of her car before she drove off. The clip was recorded the day she left Mr Raphael’s house, 5 years ago.The video had garnered so much attention that it had more than 2 million vi
“What have you done, Charles! You should be smarter than this; why didn’t you phone me directly to confirm whether I was truly the one that sent them?Even if they are real police officers like they said, why would you let them arrest your boss without an arrest warrant?” the inspector asked almost like a scold.It is funny how the tables turned for Mr Charles; just few minutes ago he was accusing and threatening the inspector for sending police officers to have his boss arrested. But at the moment he felt nothing but guilt and anxiety for the fear that he might had handed his boss into the hands of fake cops.“Come on, inspector you can’t be that certain they were not real police officers,” Michael asked with a false chuckle as he tried to keep the hopes of his father being in the hands of real police officers alive.“Beat it Michael! If your father was in the hands of real police officers, his face would have been all over the news before you arrived the station; it’s been all over
“Look here inspector, we are not here to play games. You have exactly, 30seconds to release Mr Winchester to us or face the consequences,” Mr Charles said with a grim.The inspector’s face spoke his confusion “What are you saying Mr Charles, who would give me the balls to arrest Mr Winchester without a warrant?” He said with a puzzled chuckle.“Does this look like some kind of joke to you? For the last time inspector, where is Mr Winchester,” Mr Charles said furiously hitting his hand hard against the desk, making the inspector’s coffee cup rattle.“Get over yourself Mr Charles, you are overreacting. If your boss was truly arrested, then I promise you the police men are not from my station,” the inspector dismissed.“Wow! Impressive I must be mistaking then. What do you take me for, inspector? A fool? The police officers were clearly your men and they admitted that you; inspector Louis sent them.And their badges were clearly having 5th precinct station on it. Maybe you can also argue