Raise My Rent and I'll Raise Hell

The next morning, the official notice was delivered to the restaurant. Printed on the A4-sized sheet of paper, complete with the management office's header, was the announcement that rent would be increasing by 50%, effective three days from the notice date. At the bottom, there was a line of fine print.

"This notice only applies to Unit 402, Zone A, 4th floor—Fred's Fish Feast."

There were 12 units on the same floor, but only my restaurant was named in the notice. I went looking for Walt Sutton with the notice in hand.

"Why am I the only one whose rent is increasing, Mr. Sutton?" I questioned.

Walt took a sip of his tea before replying, "The others don't have people lining up outside their stores, while your waiting list reached up to 200 tables. Since you make more money, you should pay more. That's only fair.

"Besides, the mall's foot traffic has tripled because of the prestige that comes with Millennium Square. Your grilled fish restaurant is the one benefiting from the mall's popularity. Don't get it backward."

As I stared at him, I was reminded of what the situation had been like six years ago, when Millennium Square had just opened for business.

The promotional ads for the mall had flooded the entire city, but businesses came and went. There were no customers, no subway station, and the nearest bus stop was half a mile away. The fountain in the first-floor atrium had never been turned on. The mall couldn't even afford the water bill.

There had only been three businesses operating inside the entire mall when I signed the lease for the innermost corner unit on the fourth floor—a tea shop, a hair salon, and me.

During the first month, fewer than ten customers walked into my restaurant each day. I stood outside the mall, handing out flyers. Most fell to the ground and were swept into the trash by the cleaning staff.

In my second month here, the tea shop closed. And in the third month, the owner of the hair salon returned the keys to the mall management as well.

Two entire floors of Millennium Square stayed perpetually dark.

I was the one who used all of my savings to invest in social media advertising. I created 300 reels and posted them religiously, never missing a day. After two years of hard work, I managed to bring that unknown "grilled fish restaurant on the fourth floor of Millennium Square" out of obscurity to become one of the most viral dining spots in the city.

During my third year, people started lining up outside the restaurant. In the fourth year, the subway station opened, and other businesses began moving into the mall.

By the fifth year, the mall was fully occupied.

And now, in the sixth year, Walt could sit here in his office and tell me that I was the one piggybacking off the mall's popularity.

But I didn't remind him of any of this. I simply said, "For the first three years after the mall opened, there were only three businesses in this entire mall. Every store that survived and managed to stay in business in this mall owes part of that to me. But now, you're telling me that I'm the one who's been benefiting from the mall's popularity?"

Walt put down his cup. The smile vanished from his face.

"That was then, and this is now. You've got three days to decide whether you're signing the contract."

He pushed the other cup on his desk toward me. "Have some tea before you go. It's still warm."

I stood up. "The tea's already gone cold."

After leaving the mall management office, I bumped into Duncan Bates, the owner of a barbecue restaurant in the mall. He was busy bringing in his new shipment of beer. When he saw me, he flashed a grin and handed me a cigarette.

"Business has been booming for you, huh, Fred?"

I didn't take the cigarette.

When I got back to the restaurant, Cameron Davis, one of my workers, handed me my phone. The group chat for the fourth-floor tenants of the mall was open on the screen. Duncan had sent a message to the group.

"The management office just said that they will start servicing the air-conditioning from the fourth floor this time. Everyone on this floor will be affected if someone refuses to sign the lease contract. You all know what I mean, right?"

Three people responded, acknowledging the update.

Two minutes later, a reply came from Edwin Layton, who ran a buffet grill. "Why should all of us suffer because of him? I've never missed a single rent payment."

Duncan swiftly replied, "The management only raised his rent this time. The air conditioning will stay off until he signs the new lease. Whose fault do you think that is?"