Too Late to Call Me Home
After I was kicked out of the house, my sister, Nicole Thompson, and I met at a nightclub five years later.
She was the VIP client who spent millions to celebrate Michael West's, her godbrother's, birthday, while I was the male host in the hype team.
We didn't talk to each other the whole time until she saw me chugging two bottles of whiskey for a 500 dollar tip.
When she saw my pallid face, she questioned coldly and unhappily, "You'd rather do this disgusting job than come home and apologize? Jack, you really are unbelievable!"
I just smiled indifferently and held out my hand to her.
"500 bucks. Cash or Venmo?"
Times had moved on, and I no longer wished to bring up past grudges.
However, the 500 dollars I had just earned was just enough for me to pay the balance due for my cremation urn.