Novel & Cerita Deadbeat Holiday

Chapter One: The Debt's Shadow The late afternoon sun slants through the cracked window of the Lee family Kitchen, painting golden streaks across the chipped linoleum counter. I’m scrubbing at work so hard my knuckles ache, sweat beading on my forehead despite the October chill creeping through the walls. My apron, stained with soy sauce and grease, clings to me like a second skin. At least it was empty here for a while as I had the opportunity to clean around. The restaurant, my parents’ dream, a tiny Southeast Asian haven in Brooklyn’s quiet corner where it smelled of lemongrass and despair. The lunch rush was a pathetic trio of customers, and now it’s just me, the hum of a dying fridge, a

To make up for it, he turned back and repeated a promise. "I'll definitely go to the old house to see you tomorrow." The next day, he broke his promise anyway. I sat on the couch in the old house, looking at my phone. Twelve hours left. A local news alert popped up. Kayla had appeared at a new project launch, with Lawrence standing behind her. Thinking about the promise he had made yesterday, I let out a self-deprecating smile. If he knew these were the last 12 hours with me, would he still break his promise?

After our final paper for the semester, Gracie and her friend, Melody, drove me home in Melody's car, and once again, I allowed them to convince me to attend a final-year student's birthday party. By tomorrow, most students will leave for the holiday, and before the weekend, the Dorm will be empty. Unlike other semesters where a few students might decide to stay behind. It's the Christmas holiday. A time for family, friends, parties, and reunions. I doubt anyone would stay back at the Dorm. So tonight would be more like one last fun before the Christmas break. I caved and went for the party, pushing the thoughts of EMK and the fact that he might come for me any moment, far away from my mind.

"No. You're not a wretched child. You're the most precious thing in my life. And you're the only legitimate heir of the Montclair estate." Ansel gave a muffled hum against my chest, his small fingers gripping the front of my dress. "Mother, don't cry." "Alright. I won't cry." I wiped my tears and made a silent vow. In this life, I would never let anyone hurt Ansel again. … On the seventh day, it was the funeral procession. I was awake before dawn. Today was the day the death-feigning potion would wear off. It was also the day I had staked everything on.

I said even I don't have any plan to attend, “Is that what you came here, hmm?” “Ahm, yes, Auntie,” Christmas answered. “Okay then you may two go now because I have to do something today. I'm busy right now to entertain the both of you,” I lied, “Congratulation again and have a safe trip to Jacksonville bye!” before they could talk I already shut the door close. “Your aunt is a little bit of weird,” Duke said outside. “Maybe she is just really busy today,” Christmas said. End of flashback... “Babe, come back here in bed,” I called him because it's still 4:00 a.m. and as far as I remember he doesn't have any plan today.

The announcement came on a Friday afternoon. Last lecture. Final reminders. A tired professor wishing everyone a decent holiday. Two weeks off. Campus would empty out by Sunday. Eli should have felt relieved. Instead, he felt unsettled. Noah walked beside him after class, hands in his pockets. “So,” Noah said, casual but not really, “break.” Eli nodded. “Yeah.” Noah glanced at him. “You’re thinking again.” “I always think,” Eli replied.

"My son has a school art contest. Everyone, vote for Number 6. Get your friends and family to do it, too. "My brother has a working quota to meet at his bank. Everyone needs to sign up for a credit card through him. "My cousin's farm has recently had fresh produce. Who's buying?" If anyone were to scroll through our work group chat, there was barely any actual work, just a never-ending list of demands and instructions from Eileen. Then came the Thanksgiving holidays. I was blissfully asleep at home when Eileen started calling everyone individually at 2:00 am. She wanted us to get up and give a video of her son a like.

Him taking her back to the penthouse—the one I had never seen—and doing the things he did to me. 'You were a holiday mistake, Maya.' I stopped at a crosswalk. A cab honked. It was loud and Aggressive. I closed my eyes. I was a mistake. A slump-buster. The chaotic, poor, twenty-one-year-old he fucked during a blizzard. Now he was back to reality with appropriate women, art curators who spoke three languages. And I was here. Failing macroeconomics. Wearing a diamond choker under a thrift store sweater like a pathetic dog waiting for a master who moved on.

"Want everything." "Then let's plan for everything." She pulled the papers closer. "New Year's Day. We tell my father together. We're prepared for anger, for hurt, for rejection. But we're also united. We don't apologize for loving each other. We just ask him to try to understand." "And if he can't?" "Then we move forward anyway. Together." Nelson stared at the calendar, and January first circled in red. Their deadline. Their declaration of independence.

" The Ghost pressed him, growing impatient. With the pressure mounting, Liam's hand moved, and the trigger was pulled. At that moment, the Ghost's laughter echoed wildly. He ripped the sack from my head and seized my hair. "Look at what you've chosen, Liam." His eyes widened in shock, and he screamed in disbelief, "No!" While screams filled the air, a clear electronic voice announced: [The countdown is over.] [Exiting the world...]