THE CONTINUING FIGHT The alarm didn't go off. Or maybe it did, and Marcus had learned to sleep through it. Either way, he woke up twenty minutes late, which meant he'd miss the 6:15 bus, which meant he'd be late to the construction site, which meant Roberto would dock his pay again. The dominos were already falling before his eyes even opened. He rolled off the couch—his bed now, since Elena took the bedroom when she moved back in with the kids last month. The apartment was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator, which had been making that sound for three weeks. Another thing he couldn't afford to fix. Another thing on the list that kept growing longer while his bank account kept shrinking. Marcus splashed water on his face at the kitchen sink. The bathroom faucet had been dripping for two months, and the landlord stopped returning his calls after the fourth message. He'd tried to fix it himself with a YouTube video and a wrench borrowed from Mrs. Chen downstairs, but he'd only made it worse. Now it dripped faster, a steady percussion that kept him awake at night when the city sounds finally died down. His reflection in the window showed a man he barely recognized. Forty-two years old, looking fifty. Gray creeping into his temples, lines around his eyes that hadn't been there three years ago, before the factory closed. Before everything fell apart. He pulled on his work clothes—jeans stiff with dried concrete, a flannel shirt with a torn pocket, steel-toed boots with soles that were separating from the leather. He'd glued them twice already. They'd hold for another week, maybe two. They had to. The bus was pulling away when he reached the corner, exhaust fumes mixing with the morning mist. Marcus didn't run after it. What was the point? He'd already lost. He checked his phone—6:23 AM. The next bus wouldn't come for another forty minutes. He could walk, make it there by seven-fifteen, only an hour late instead of two. He started walking. The city was waking up around him. Coffee shops opening their doors, releasing waves of warmth and the smell of fresh bread. His stomach growled. He'd skipped dinner last night—the kids needed to eat, and there wasn't enough. There was never enough. Elena had looked at him with those eyes, the ones that said she was trying not to pity him, trying not to regret coming back, trying not to wonder if she'd made a mistake. "It's fine," he'd told her, pushing his plate toward Sofia. "I ate at work." He hadn't. There was no lunch at work. There was never lunch at work. Not anymore. Marcus passed a man sleeping in a doorway, bundled in a sleeping bag that had seen better days. The man's shopping cart was chained to a parking meter, everything he owned visible through the metal mesh. Marcus had given him five dollars once, back when he still had five dollars to give. Now he just nodded as he passed, a silent acknowledgment between two men who understood what it meant to be invisible. That could be me, Marcus thought. That could still be me. The thought wasn't melodramatic. It was mathematical. Three months behind on rent. Elena's part-time job at the grocery store brought in enough to feed the kids, but not enough to catch up on what they owed. The eviction notice would come. It was just a matter of when. His phone buzzed. A text from Roberto: "Where are you?" Marcus didn't respond. What could he say? The bus left without me. My alarm didn't go off. I'm walking as fast as I can. None of it mattered. Roberto didn't care about reasons. Roberto cared about concrete poured on time and walls that went up according to schedule. Roberto cared about Roberto. The construction site was in the gentrifying district, where old warehouses were being converted into luxury lofts that Marcus could never afford. He'd helped build three of them in the past year. Two-bedroom units starting at four thousand a month. He made eighteen dollars an hour when he wasn't getting docked for being late. The irony wasn't lost on him. "You're late." Roberto didn't look up from his clipboard. "Bus—" "I don't care about the bus. I care about the schedule. You're docked an hour." "I'll stay late. Make it up." "You'll stay late because the job isn't done. You're still docked." Roberto finally looked at him. "This is the third time this month, Marcus. I've got ten guys who want your spot." Marcus nodded. What else could he do? "Won't happen again." "It better not." He grabbed his hard hat and joined the crew. The work was mindless, which was both a blessing and a curse. His body knew what to do—lift, carry, pour, smooth, repeat. His mind was free to wander, and it always wandered to the same places. Bills. Rent. The kids. Elena's disappointed face. The dripping faucet. The refrigerator hum. The growing pile of things that needed fixing, needing solving, needing money he didn't have. At lunch, while the other guys sat in the break area eating sandwiches and laughing about something on their phones, Marc

My name is Jayson Belarmino, 34 years old, when I was young, I remember a time when there were no problems, just playing in the street with my friends. I was so happy during that time. When I turned 15 years old, I started to learn vices, I learned to drink alcohol and smoke cigarettes without my parents and family knowing that I had vices. My life was ruined by computer games because I got addicted to them, I wasn't attending school just to play computer games until I turned 21 and still haven't finished college even though we have enough money.Until we had our high school reunion, I attended and saw my first love again, her name is Rachelle Ann Angeles. I found out that she had already finished college and is currently working. I felt ashamed because I haven't finished my studies yet and because I have a crush on her, I mustered the courage to approach my family and decided to finally pursue my education. They were surprised and curious about what came over me, but they didn't know that Rachelle Ann, my high school crush, became my inspiration.I have realized how challenging it is to study seriously, but I have managed to attend classes in the morning and come home late at night. I have been working hard to prove to my family that I am truly committed to finishing my studies.Rachelle Ann was my inspiration in studying, until I started studying and took up the course BSIT. I graduated from my studies and my family was very happy for me. I didn't fail any subject, they thought I would just end up being a yard cleaner for my sibling. Now I am working in a telecom company.