Chapter 5: Buying Out Karen
William stood there holding a crisp hundred-dollar bill — Benjamin Franklin's solemn face staring up at him.
In everyday South Side life, a $100 bill was practically a myth.
Most people lived and paid in singles, fives, tens, or the occasional twenty.
Karen Jackson had seen cash before — her family was better off than the Gallaghers —
but even for her, a Benjamin wasn't pocket change.
Still, her attention wasn't on the money.
It was on the man holding it.
Her eyes practically sparkled with something far less innocent.
"You… want to play some kind of special game?" she said, voice soft and breathy.
"I can do that."
Her cheeks were already flushed pink.
William could almost see the nonsense running through her mind.
He sighed, reached out, and flicked her lightly on the forehead.
"Jesus, what goes on in that head of yours? I'm not here for that."
Not interested wasn't entirely true — Karen Jackson had her charm —
but he genuinely didn't have time for this.
Besides, [Metal Manipulation] wasn't nearly as essential as the [Regeneration Factor] he still needed to unlock.
Karen frowned, pouting slightly.
"Not interested? What, are you gay or something?"
Her disappointment turned to irritation almost immediately.
"So what do you want from me then?" she snapped, the flirtation gone.
The fake shiver she'd been using to look cute disappeared.
She reached into her canvas bag and pulled out a pack of Camels —
empty.
"Damn it!" She tossed it aside. "Fuck!"
William just watched her calmly. None of this surprised him.
Karen Jackson wasn't crazy — not exactly.
She was just… a special kind of chaos.
Finally, she glared at him.
"So if you're not here to screw me, then what the hell do you want?"
William folded his arms.
"It's simple," he said. "I'll give you a hundred bucks every week. In return, you stay away from all the guys at your school."
Karen blinked, then scoffed.
Her disbelief was almost comical.
"You're kidding me, right? You think you can turn me into some kind of virgin saint for four hundred bucks a month? You're insane."
She spun on her heel to leave, muttering, "What a freak."
William sighed as he watched her stomp off through the snow.
"Damn it. Why is doing a mission in this world so hard?"
"Maybe the superpower's not worth it after all…"
He hesitated, almost ready to give up.
Almost.
Then he clenched his jaw and jogged after her.
This was Level 3 Metal Manipulation.
Magneto-tier power.
There was no way he was letting that slip away.
"Karen, wait," he called.
She stopped, arms folded.
"I'm listening."
Truth be told, she only stopped because he was too handsome to ignore.
If she couldn't sleep with him, she could at least enjoy the view.
William racked his brain, thinking fast.
Then — a spark of inspiration.
"How long until your eighteenth birthday?"
Karen gave him a suspicious look.
"Why do you want to know? It's next month. So what?"
She sighed internally.
"God, he's gorgeous. Too bad he's completely nuts."
William grinned.
"Perfect."
He took a step closer.
"Same deal — you stay away from every guy at your school until you graduate.
And on your eighteenth birthday… I'll buy you a car."
Karen blinked.
For a moment, she thought she'd misheard him.
"A… car?"
William nodded. "And the weekly hundred still stands."
At first, she wanted to laugh in his face again.
But then she froze.
A car.
She wanted one so badly she could taste it.
In the show — in the timeline he remembered — that car had been the very thing that drove her final wedge with her father Eddie,
ending in tragedy and a cold lake.
William knew all of that.
And now, watching the spark in Karen's eyes, he realized how easily that same chain of fate could begin again.
"Are you serious?" she asked, voice trembling slightly.
"I mean — if I actually do what you say…"
William met her gaze. Calm. Steady.
"I'm dead serious. Do as I say, and you'll get the car."
A car wasn't cheap — not even close.
William didn't have that kind of cash yet, but one month was plenty of time.
Worst case?
He'd hang around the Gallaghers and grind a few more system missions.
Sooner or later, he'd earn a money-generating skill —
or maybe the system would just drop a fat cash reward on him.
And if all else failed… well, there was always Plan C:
Frank Gallagher's drug-dealing mother and the ten grand she'd once stashed in the house.
William smirked to himself.
"If I can't earn it, I'll just 'borrow' it."
---
Karen, meanwhile, stood frozen in place, eyes flicking between the hundred-dollar bill and William's face.
One month without sex might actually kill her.
But a car…
A car of her own was the one thing she wanted more than anything else.
Her desire wrestled with her addiction until, finally, she bit her lip hard and nodded.
"Fine! Deal! My birthday's next month — the twelfth.
Don't disappoint me, pretty boy."
She rose on tiptoe, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then turned to leave.
She didn't make it far before she spun back, snatched the hundred from his hand, and stuffed it into her pocket.
William raised an eyebrow. "Hey—"
Karen grinned, wagging a finger at him.
"Don't think you can weasel out of this. If I find out you're lying, I'll know.
Everyone at my school talks — it'll be easy to check."
William chuckled and waved her off. "Fair enough. Name's William Blake, by the way."
"Good for you," she shot back — and flipped him the finger before strutting off.
He watched her go, exhaling through his nose.
"Christ. Keeping Lip from getting laid shouldn't be this hard."
"Maybe I should collect a little interest from Fiona to make up for it."
---
Later That Evening
Time moved fast.
Before he knew it, dusk had fallen over Chicago, and neon lights were flickering to life.
William had spent the afternoon replaying every detail of Shameless that he could remember,
cross-referencing scenes in his head with real city maps,
hunting for the nightclub — the one where Fiona and Jimmy (Steve) first met.
After hours of cross-checking, he finally found it.
Right time. Right place.
And tonight, he was going to be there first.
He didn't even bother with dinner.
Instead, he bought a hotdog from a street vendor, changed into a casual blazer, and headed straight downtown.
---
The bass hit him before he even reached the club.
The air vibrated with thumping music, laughter, and the faint smell of alcohol and sweat.
A massive Black bouncer stood at the door, arms crossed, scanning IDs.
A line of college kids and partygoers stretched down the block, bouncing impatiently in the cold.
William's eyes narrowed slightly.
No bruise yet on the bouncer's jaw —
which meant Jimmy hadn't gotten into a fight with him yet.
And if that was true, then Fiona, Veronica, and Jimmy were still inside.
Perfect.
He thought about going in —
but the music was deafening, the crowd thick, and the lighting chaotic.
Searching for them inside would be a nightmare.
No. He didn't need to.
He already knew what would happen next.
Fiona would have her wallet stolen —
and she'd rush out of the club with Veronica,
where Jimmy would appear to "help" and kickstart their little fairy-tale disaster.
William smiled to himself.
"No need to interrupt the dance scene.
I'll just intercept the rescue."
So he leaned casually against the brick wall outside,
hands in his pockets, ignoring the pulsing beat of the club.
The winter wind bit at his face.
Snowflakes swirled under the streetlights.
Somewhere inside, the story was about to unfold exactly as it had before —
except this time, when Fiona came running out,
the man waiting for her wouldn't be Jimmy Lishman.
It would be William Blake.
---