19 years earlier;
Year 2006, City of Blackburn, Ilys;
Just like every full moon night, as the capital city is showered under heavy rainfall, a woman, barely in her early 20s, shuffled down the empty street, one hand resting on her swollen belly, the other clutching the umbrella's handle. She didn't know where she was going—just walking down the road.
Her stomach growled.
She stopped before a diner glowing faintly in the fog. The sign above flickered neon-blue: THE M TABLE
A bell chimed when she pushed the door open.
A cheerful waitress appeared from behind the counter, wearing an apron embroidered with a gold "M."
"Welcome to the M Table!" she said, before asking, "Table for one?"
The pregnant woman nodded faintly.
"Please, have a seat wherever you like."
She sat near a corner, looking up at the glowing menu board above the counter. The prices made her heart sink. Each of those dishes costs like a hundred, two hundred, or even five hundred dollars for a plate. The prices were like a Five-star range. She rubbed her swollen belly. "These are too expensive for me, much less you. Guess I will grab a cab and go home," she murmured, half to herself.
Right then, she saw the last line.
Chef's Special: Random Three to Five-Course Meal — Payment: Your most depressing story. (However, truth only.)
She blinked. "That's a joke, right?"
The waitress grinned. "No joke, ma'am. Our manager loves to hear sad stories."
The woman looked from her to the person at the corner. The handsome man raised his glass at her, smiling like he'd been waiting. "Go on," he said in a voice smooth as silk. "You look like someone who's got a story to tell."
Her lips trembled. "But I really don't think I can afford those dishes afterward..."
"Afford?" He stood up before she could finish. From the counter, he picked up a dark green bottle and a crystal glass. The liquid inside shimmered faintly, like light through smoke.
He poured it with care and placed it before her. "I'm seriously not joking, Milady."
He then pointed to the bottle, "This is Spiritwine. Brewed by Master Krieg around 30 years ago. Specially made for pregnant women—it eases the heart and steadies the breath. Only a hundred and fifty bottles ever existed."
He leaned closer, his eyes glinting red under the warm lights. "Each is worth more than a hundred thousand dollars, and as a token of sincerity, we are willing to offer you the first glass for free. If you like it, you can tell your story and have the rest of the bottle and also the dishes of our Chef's special menu for free."
"Hundred thousand?" She nearly dropped the glass. "I—I can't drink this. That's too expensive!"
The waitress laughed softly at that. "Something's expensive to someone, is trivial to someone else. It goes vice versa, Ma'am."
The man turned slightly, his tone light but edged. "What she meant is that it depends on what you consider expensive, Milady. For some, it's money. For others, it's people. For some…" He met her eyes. "Being happy itself costs too much to the point that they will sacrifice everything to gain it."
He smiled then, faint and oddly kind. "So drink. Just take a sip and try."
The woman stared at the wine, her reflection rippling on its surface. For a long time, she said nothing. And then she took a hesitant sip of the wine.
Her eyes widened. "This is just…" She blinked twice, looking at the glass like it were a miracle. "I've never tasted anything like this in my life."
The handsome man smiled, resting his chin on his palm. "Well… you can drink everything..."
She laughed softly, though it trembled. Then she drank again. And again. Her cheeks flushed, and her voice loosened, drifting between laughter and sighs.
When her glass emptied, the man poured more without asking.
"Now then," he said quietly, swirling his own untouched drink, "tell me… the saddest story of your life."
Sasha stared at the ruby liquid. Her fingers trembled around the glass, and then she exhaled. "My name is Sasha Rodriguez. And since I was a child, I wanted to be an actress."
The tough guy from the kitchen slid a plate onto her table. It was a fragrant soup, but she didn't notice and continued to speak.
"However, I was from a humble background without any connections, nor had I graduated from any top university. After entering the industry, I did all the small parts. Background faces, crowd scenes. But those are all only to be seen but never remembered by the audience." Her fingers tightened on the glass.
"Then one day, a big-shot director noticed me. I can't say his name. But he told me I had potential. That he'd make me a lead in his next film. However, there was a price."
As the man watched her intently with a meaningful gaze, sensing what happened next, Sasha laughed bitterly. "He said it like it was nothing. 'One night, and you're set for life.' I told myself I could make such a small sacrifice to fulfill my dream. Just one night, I thought of him as a bad boyfriend for that one night in order to become an actress, to become famous."
She looked down, the reflection of the neon lights trembling in her tears. "One night turned into months. And I became his… mis… mistress." The word hung heavy in the air. "He promised the lead role, said he'd make me a star. Yes, he fulfilled it too, casting me as a second lead for a big movie."
She wiped her face roughly. "But just as shooting began, I found that I was pregnant."
The diner fell quiet except for the slow bubbling from the kitchen.
Her voice cracked as tears welled up in her eyes as she continued, "I wasn't ready to become a mom. But the Anti-abortion laws of this country forced me to reveal it to him. But, he refused to acknowledge our relationship and even threatened to malign my character if I didn't leave. He threw me a 50,000-dollar check and kicked me out of his life."
The man across from her tilted his head slightly, letting out a sigh. "Poor soul..."
"I went back home, and my parents kicked me out, too. Through a friend, I got a job at his store." She gave a hollow laugh. "I was only 22 years old, filled with dreams, and all of them were destroyed overnight."
Her voice softened as she further drowned in her sorrow. "Being a woman here in this country… It's hell. I hate this life."
She pressed a hand to her belly, whispering, "And now, I'm dragging a daughter into it. She'll suffer the same way as I, perhaps face even more struggles without a father."
Her words dissolved into quiet sobs.
The man then leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. His voice turned gentle yet sharp as a blade. "If someone said he could give it all back—your dream, your fame, your revenge—would you take it?"
She blinked through her tears. "W-what?"
"Everything you lost. Everything you ever wanted. Stardom. Power. Even the man who ruined you brought him to his knees." His eyes glimmered faintly red under the lights. "Would you accept it, no matter the cost?"
Her breathing hitched. She stared at him, glassy-eyed, half drunk on Spiritwine and sorrow.
"I…" She laughed brokenly. "I'm a woman who threw away her dignity just to be an actress."
Her tears smeared her lipstick as she smiled faintly. "What wouldn't I do?"
The man's eyes, however, drifted down to her belly. "Will you give up the child?"
Sasha blinked, caught off guard by his question, "What?"