Under the bleachers.
It was over.
Mickey leaned against a steel pillar, exhaled a long breath, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit another one, and took a deep drag.
Ian leaned nearby, staring at Mickey with a goofy grin.
"What the fuck are you looking at?" Mickey glared at Ian fiercely.
Ian stopped staring, but the smile on his face grew even wider as his love-struck brain started spinning again.
Mickey saw this and, true to his stubborn nature, couldn't handle it. "Fuck, you look like a retard."
Cursing, Mickey strode away quickly.
Ian didn't move. He just shifted his gaze, smiling as he watched Mickey leave.
The sky grew dark.
Mickey returned home.
Mandy was in the kitchen making dinner. Hearing the noise, she called out, "Mickey?"
"Yeah," Mickey responded casually, walking straight to his room, flopping onto the bed, and savoring the lingering feeling from earlier.
Mandy walked to his door and looked at him. "You got off work so early today?"
His reminiscing interrupted, Mickey didn't even look up and replied grumpily, "Day off. Didn't work."
"Huh? Why didn't you say so this morning?" Mandy was surprised.
"Forgot," Mickey replied casually. "Hurry up and make dinner. I'm hungry."
"Starve then!" Mandy didn't indulge Mickey's temper. She threw back a vicious retort and walked away.
Mickey stayed lying on the bed. He thought for a moment, then pulled the iPhone he bought last month out of his pocket and started searching online for information related to being GAY.
---
Meanwhile.
Ian arrived at the grocery store and started working as usual, but his mood was noticeably better.
Kash noticed and hurried over to Ian. "Something good happen?"
Ian panicked slightly.
Something good did happen, but it wasn't something he could share with Kash.
"No," Ian shook his head. "Just a smooth day. Didn't run into any bullshit."
Kash didn't suspect anything and nodded with a smile. "That's good too."
"Yeah, I guess," Ian replied perfunctorily.
The truth was.
The power of being love-struck is truly strong.
Now that things had happened with Mickey, Ian had lost interest in Kash. He wanted to break it off, but thinking about losing the job and the monthly income made him conflicted. He couldn't say the words, unsure of what to do for now...
But even so...
His attitude and tone had already made the decision for him.
Unfortunately, Kash wasn't that sharp and didn't pick up on it, continuing to comfort Ian softly.
Listening to Kash...
Ian couldn't stop thinking about Mickey.
Sigh, love brain. Truly terrifying.
---
The Alibi Room.
Carl was busy as a bee, weaving between several young women, making money.
Tonight, Carl had changed his story.
Even if he got exposed, he didn't care. Making money wasn't shameful.
Kevin was busy, but in a spare moment, he saw a rich guy trying to trick Carl into drinking alcohol. Helpless, he rushed over to stop it. "Sorry, Carl is only ten. He can't drink. It's bad for him."
The rich guy smiled. Being in this slum and seeing Kevin looking pretty fierce, he didn't dare provoke him. "Just joking. Wouldn't really let him drink."
"Good," Kevin responded, pulling Carl aside. "It's fine for you to play here, but absolutely no drinking! Or Fiona will kill me."
Carl actually wanted to drink, but he knew Kevin wasn't exaggerating. He nodded. "Okay. But I've only made eleven dollars tonight so far. So little."
Actually, it wasn't little.
Making eleven dollars in less than an hour, dollar by dollar... his hourly wage was higher than Chicago's minimum wage.
"Use that clever little head of yours. Figure something out," Kevin replied with a smile. Too busy to chat more, he went back to serving customers.
Carl scratched his head, thinking hard. Thinking and thinking.
Dexter.
Carl had a great idea. Without delay, he walked out quickly.
Just stepping out of the Alibi, walking too fast, Carl wasn't paying attention and bumped into someone.
"Watch where you're walking!" Carl yelped in pain, looking up unhappily to see who was blind.
Looking up, he saw the thug who had knocked him out with one punch last time.
Carl froze instantly.
The thug saw him too, recognized Carl, and decisively squatted down, grabbing Carl's shirt without batting an eye so Carl couldn't run. "Carl, I haven't settled the score with you from last time. Where is Frank?"
After knocking Carl out last time, the thug had actually been panicked for a few days. He hadn't dared run around or look for Frank, terrified that Carl was seriously hurt and the cops would come knocking.
Seeing Carl was fine now, the thug breathed a huge sigh of relief, felt his confidence return, and got fierce again.
Carl snapped back to reality. He looked between the thug's legs and had a strong urge to give him another shot like last time. But then he thought, if he ended up in the hospital again and met Dexter's girlfriend, it would be really bad. So he gritted his teeth and held back.
"I don't know where Frank is. He hasn't shown up since he ran away that day."
Carl suppressed his impulse and spoke without fear.
Finishing that, before the thug could say anything, Carl immediately added, "You knocked me out that day. I went to the hospital later, and the doctor said you gave me brain damage!"
"You have to pay!"
Hearing this.
The thug genuinely couldn't help but doubt his ears. He laughed angrily. "Me pay you? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Carl looked dead serious. "Do I look like I'm kidding? Pay up! Or I'm gonna scream!"
Thug: "!!!!"
In a place like this, if Carl really screamed...
A grown black man bullying a white kid...
Heh.
He'd definitely be in deep shit.
The thug was scared immediately. He hurriedly let go and stood up, ready to leave. "Tell Frank, don't let me find him, or I'll chop off one of his legs!"
Dropping that threat, the thug didn't even go into the Alibi Room. He walked away fast.
Seeing this.
Carl smirked, muttered "coward," and headed toward Dex Restaurant.
At the same time.
In the alley opposite, Frank, living like a rat, let out a long sigh of relief and said proudly, "That's my son!"
Muttering this, Frank didn't move immediately. He watched the retreating thug closely, waiting patiently until the thug was completely gone before smiling, walking out of the alley, and heading straight for the Alibi Room.
Entering the Alibi, Frank instantly felt like he was back in his true home. He greeted the barflies happily.
The barflies looked at Frank and ignored him.
Frank didn't care. He sat straight on a stool at the bar. "Kevin, five shots, and a pickled egg."
"Jesus," Kevin frowned, almost gagging from the stench radiating from Frank as soon as he got close. "Did you just crawl out of a cesspit? You smell terrible!"
Frank ignored it, acting like he couldn't smell it, and grinned. "Pretty much. Just unclogged a toilet, almost got splashed all over."
It really smelled too bad.
Kevin had an urge to kick him out, not because Frank would disturb other customers, but purely because the smell was excessive.
But, after a pause, Kevin held back. He poured Frank the drinks, then stood further away. "You don't look like someone who unclogs toilets. Anton said you went to Butterface's house?"
Hearing this, Frank smiled triumphantly. "Don't call her that. You're a civilized man. I just unclogged Dottie's toilet."
Kevin paused. "??? What are you planning now? She's dying. You want to get your hands on that house?"
Frank laughed. "Why must I be planning something? I have no plans! I think I'm in love with Dottie. This is love."
Kevin: "...Hahahaha."
Kevin laughed, and the nearby barflies laughed too, loudly.
"Fuck you all!" Mocked, Frank started cursing directly.
Amidst the banter, time flew.
Little Carl, leading Dumb Nine who was taller than him when standing up, returned to the Alibi Room and headed straight for the rich people.
The plan was simple.
Carl would use the handsome Dumb Nine to make money, and when he encountered situations requiring drinking, he'd let Dumb Nine drink.
Surprisingly, the plan was very successful.
Before long.
One dollar, two dollars, three dollars...
Bill after bill fell into Carl's pocket.
Carl was laughing with joy.
Frank, sitting at the bar, had noticed what Carl was doing long ago. He laughed too, naturally deciding he would get his hands on the money Carl earned later. He was confident it wouldn't be difficult; after all, Carl was too young and naive.
In the blink of an eye.
It was almost seven o'clock, getting late. Carl wrapped up and led Dumb Nine outside.
Seeing this, Frank downed the drink in front of him in one gulp, stood up, and chased after him.
Kevin was helpless. "Frank, you're not paying again?"
Frank didn't look back. "Put it on my tab."
Catching up to Carl, Frank reached out and ruffled Carl's hair, praising him with a grin, "Carl, good job. Learned how to make money. That's my son."
Carl looked up and glared at Frank. "What do you want?"
"Son, why talk to your dad like that? Your dad just wants to bond with you," Frank laughed. "Speaking of which, you did great that day."
"I got knocked out by that black guy that day!" Carl frowned.
Frank didn't care at all, still smiling. "It's okay. You get used to it after passing out a few times."
Frank rambled for a bit before getting to the point. "I saw you made quite a bit of money just now. I'm working on a really good project recently. Give me your money, and in a week, I can double it. Then you'll have twice the money."
"Carl, I'm giving you this opportunity to invest because you're my son. If it were anyone else, I wouldn't even bother."
"You can't miss this chance."
Listening to this.
Carl, who hadn't stopped walking, stopped and looked up at Frank.
Dumb Nine also stopped, squatting beside Carl, staring at Frank's neck, really wanting to take a bite, holding back with great difficulty.
"Frank, listen clearly," Carl spoke, his face full of seriousness. "Fuck off! Don't try to scam my money!"
Frank paused, not expecting this kid to have gotten smarter and not fall for it. So he decisively squatted down, grabbing Carl's arms. "Carl, very good. You're becoming more and more like me. Not falling for small tricks like that, very good."
"To tell you the truth, I really need money, or I'll die."
"Really, I'm not lying to you. That black guy is still looking for me everywhere. I have to pay him back, or he'll kill me."
Frank used his exquisite acting skills, performing very convincingly.
Carl had limited brainpower and couldn't distinguish truth from lies. He hesitated, looking at Frank silently for a few seconds. "Really?"
Seeing Carl taking the bait, Frank rejoiced internally. "Yeah. You saw that black guy that day. You know how scary he is."
Carl recalled the thug's appearance, gritted his teeth, and pulled the thirty-something dollars out of his pocket. "I only have this much. You have to figure out the rest yourself."
Frank held back his laughter, pretending to be touched. "Okay, son. Thank you."
Saying that, Frank reached out to take the money.
Just then.
Dumb Nine bared his teeth and let out a threatening growl.
Seeing this, Frank didn't stop his hand, secretly hoping Dumb Nine would take a bite!
Just one bite, heh, if he didn't get a few thousand dollars out of Dexter, this wouldn't end.
"Dumb Nine, don't bark. He's my dad," Carl spoke up, stopping Dumb Nine.
Hearing this, Dumb Nine instantly returned to normal, not meddling anymore.
Frank felt a bit regretful. He took the money from Carl's hand, stuffed it into his pocket, then, unwilling to give up, reached out to touch Dumb Nine, trying to provoke a bite.
Dumb Nine dodged immediately.
Frank stank to high heaven; Dumb Nine didn't want to touch him.
"Heh, this dog is really pretty, just kinda dumb," Frank said, continuing his efforts.
Dumb Nine couldn't be bothered and pulled Carl directly toward the restaurant.
Frank had to give up temporarily, thinking he'd find another dog to bite him and then ask Dexter for compensation later. "Son, I'm going to make money. Go home early."
Carl nodded and didn't speak.
---
Dex Restaurant.
Carl led Dumb Nine into the restaurant. As soon as he walked in, he saw Bianca waiting for her meal and froze subconsciously.
Bianca also saw Carl and was a bit stunned.
Stunned for a moment, Bianca recovered first and smiled at Carl. "Carl, we meet again."
Carl was very embarrassed. He thought for a moment, let go of Dumb Nine's leash, walked obediently to Bianca, and apologized honestly. "Sorry I ran away last time and caused you trouble."
Just a kid, and it was in the past. Bianca wouldn't hold a grudge. She nodded with a smile. "Just don't do it again."
"Mmh, I'll try," Carl didn't make big promises. After all, being truly poor with no insurance, he really couldn't afford expensive medical bills.
Bianca was amused by this.
Just then, Dexter walked out of the kitchen with a meal and saw Carl.
Placing dinner in front of Bianca, Dexter smiled at Carl. "Done working? How was the harvest?"
Carl was hungry. Looking at Bianca's dinner, he instinctively sniffed, then snapped back and shook his head at Dexter. "Made thirty-eight dollars, but it's gone. Gave it to Frank."
"?????" Dexter noticed Carl sniffing. "Come, sit down first. Tell me what happened."
Carl sat down and briefly recounted the story.
Heh.
Frank Gallagher.
Scamming away the little bit of money his son worked hard to earn on an empty stomach without mercy.
Truly wonderful.
"Carl, eat dinner here. My treat," Dexter didn't say much. Dropping that sentence, he signaled Vivian to bring a fruit platter for Carl to snack on.
Carl was genuinely hungry. "I'll make more money tomorrow to pay you back."
"Okay," Dexter smiled, turning to Bianca. "Ms. Greene, enjoy your meal."
Bianca knew Dexter was being playful and smiled brightly. "Mr. Dexter, go get busy."
Dexter ducked back into the kitchen.
---