From Her Pawn to Her Nightmare

Tiffany's hand froze in mid-air. "W-What did you say?"

Just then, the apartment door was violently shoved open. Ethan stumbled in drunk with his arm around a woman, followed by a group of his buddies whistling and catcalling. He immediately spotted us frozen by the bathroom door.

Without hesitation, he walked straight to Tiffany and yanked her away from me. Then, she pulled her roughly into his embrace, resting his chin intimately against her shoulder.

"Babe, why are you hiding in a place like this? I've been looking everywhere for you."

His lips were practically brushing her earlobe as he shot me a contemptuous glance.

Only after catching my stare did she start trying to struggle free, hissing, "Ethan, stop it. This is my home!"

Ethan laughed exaggeratedly as he looked around. "Your home? Babe, you're calling this dump a home? I could have this place bulldozed tonight and build you a golden bathroom if I wanted."

He tightened his grip even more, pulling her closer while staring me down provocatively. "What's with that look? You're just a waste of space who doesn't even know who his own parents are. You should be grateful Tiffany even looked at you, yet you dare throw a tantrum?"

Another one of his friends joined in with a mocking laugh, flicking away his cigarette and grinding it under his toe. "Tiffany, let me be real with you… If you weren't so set on playing this childish game of house, we wouldn't even look at this roach motel."

I lowered my eyes, staring at the worn floor beneath my feet where the concrete showed through. The water stains on the ceiling looked like an abstract map, and the bathroom faucet that could never be fixed.

This place had once been what I thought of as home. I had earned every single thing here with my own sweat under the scorching sun, hauling bricks.

I had cared about Tiffany so much. In winter, I spent all my wages on a cheap space heater for her while I shivered in thin clothes in the freezing wind.

I once thought this small space, a poor but carefully built little nest, was the starting point of our future together.

My nails dug deep into my palms. I was waiting for Tiffany to say just one word in my defense, even just one. However, she remained silent.

Ethan seemed to lose interest and let go of Tiffany, starting to prowl around the small room. Finally, his eyes landed on the journal by the bed that I had treasured above all else.

His eyes lit up. "Well, what's this?"

It was the notebook where I recorded the memory fragments that flashed through my mind. Those scattered words, blurry faces, and fragmented scenes were my only tool for finding out who I was and where I came from.

Alarm bells went off in my head as I lunged forward. "Give it back!"

"That's quite the temper you've got there! Oh, hiding little secrets, are we?" Ethan dodged my hand playfully and casually flipped open a few pages.

Then, he read aloud in an exaggerated voice. "Golden lion crest, red carpet, crystal chandelier, white-haired old man, tuxedo…"

He laughed out loud, mocking, "Tiffany, your boy toy's something else. Does he think he's some prince living among commoners? Writing novels now?"

His friends doubled over laughing.

"You can't read that!" My eyes turned bloodshot.

Tiffany quickly grabbed me. "William, that's enough. It's just a notebook. What's the big deal if Ethan looks at it? Do you have to be so petty?"

In the chaos, my elbow knocked into Ethan, and he stumbled backward as a clear gray footprint appeared on his limited-edition white sneakers worth thousands of dollars.

Ethan's expression instantly darkened. He glared at me hard, a flash of viciousness in his eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed the half-empty soda bottle from the table, twisted off the cap, and poured every last drop onto my journal.