"Kid, if you can do this job, do it. If you can't, get lost. I just need to make a call and there'll be plenty of people lining up to work!" *Smack!* A rag landed on Adam's face, followed by a bossy voice: "Go scrub all the toilets clean. If there's even a spot left, I'll make you drink toilet water!"
Scrub, scrub, scrub. Adam quietly cleaned the toilets in the restroom. He didn't rage or roar, nor did he glare with venom—he just focused, calm, scrubbing as if it were the most important job in the world. The boss's pointless bullying wasn't worth a second thought. Adam didn't waste time wondering why the guy disliked him, why he kept picking on him, or why he humiliated him in front of everyone.
He didn't think about any of that. He didn't have time to.
He raised his wrist and checked his watch—a battered old thing picked up at the secondhand market. His fancy old watch had long been pawned for cash. This cheap one barely worked, but at least the time was accurate.
Checking the time, Adam scrubbed even faster. He calculated—he had to finish the toilets in fifteen minutes, then rush to another place within five minutes so he wouldn't miss work.
Whoosh, whoosh—the wind whipped past Adam's ears, lifting his hair. Even pedaling his bike at full speed, Adam carried an air of nobility. It was in his bones, not something that could be worn away.
"Is my hair getting a bit long?" Adam flipped his hair, riding his bike while pulling a small notebook from his chest pocket. It was full of important reminders so he wouldn't forget.
He made a quick note in the book, checked his watch again, then pedaled harder. The bike shot out like an arrow.
Evening.
"We're here! Welcome back to our luxury mansion." Sophia hopped off the back seat. But Adam didn't sling his bike over his shoulder to head upstairs like usual. Instead, he smiled at Sophia: "I picked up another job at the supermarket today. From now on, I won't be home for dinner. You go ahead and eat, then rest up. I might be home late."