Chapter 3
907 Words
I read through the messages and felt completely miserable.
The day Alex bought that hairpin, my mom had even given her a silk storage pouch for free. The cost price alone was over a hundred dollars.
The scarf Sara had her eyes on was a discontinued Hermès hand-painted limited edition. The museum had the same design in a different color in its collection.
What she compared it to was a machine-printed synthetic scarf mass-produced at a night market.
Jeanne was even more ridiculous.
Last semester, our club made a short film and borrowed props from me. She managed to tear two threads in an old shawl from the 1980s, then casually tossed it back and said, "It's just a few threads, what's the big deal?"
My mom spent three whole nights repairing it under a desk lamp.
Usually, they came to the exhibition hall to drink free tea, take selfies, and try on antique clothes for their social media posts.
My mom never asked them for a single cent because they were my roommates.
Now...
My family had somehow become some kind of scam shop in their eyes.
I couldn't hold back anymore and replied directly in the group.
Lindsay: If you think the prices are too high, then don't buy or borrow anything. Every piece in the exhibition hall comes with an appraisal certificate and a detailed history of ownership. Comparing a handmade one-of-a-kind piece with mass-produced synthetic fabric from a night market is honestly a joke.
Lindsay: Also, that Chanel gown is the only one of its kind in the entire city. If you can find another person willing to lend it out for 300 dollars, please bring me a hundred examples. I'll personally bow to Serene and serve her tea.
The group went silent for a few seconds.
Then, the backlash came even harder.
A: You're just stingy. Was there really a need to humiliate people in front of everyone?
B: So, this is how rich people act? Such an ugly attitude.
Serene sent a voice message.
I tapped it open, and her voice came through, trembling with a hint of tears.
"Lindsay, I know you've always looked down on me being the class president. However, isn't graduation prom a big deal for everyone? I just wanted everyone to have a beautiful dress they could feel proud of and take some nice pictures."
The group immediately filled with people comforting her.
A: Serene, don't be upset. If she doesn't want to lend them out, then forget it.
B: Is 300 dollars really nothing? My monthly allowance is only 1,500. She actually thinks that's too little?
I tossed my phone beside my pillow.
There was only one thought left in my mind.
These people probably had bricks stuffed into their heads. Not a single bit of common sense could get through.
Not long after, another call came in.
It was Jonathan Lane.
He was the president of the college's arts department and the student director for this year's graduation prom.
Back in my freshman year, I really had a crush on him.
Later, I figured him out.
He was polite to everyone, but only cared about whether someone was useful to him.
The moment I answered, he started lecturing me. "Lindsay, what happened in the group today was really inappropriate."
I didn't respond.
He continued, "Serene worked so hard organizing and gathering everyone's requests. Even if you didn't want to help, fine. However, you didn't have to embarrass her in front of everyone. She's still a young girl. She cried all morning because of this."
I let out a laugh. "She cried, so my mom is supposed to just swallow a loss of hundreds of thousands?"
Jonathan's voice turned serious. "You make everything about money. The prom budget is already tight. Everyone is just trying to save where they can. How much could those old things from your mom's collection really cost her anyway? 300 dollars is just a kind favor."
"A favor?"
"Yes. Also, don't pretend you don't understand. I know what you felt for me back in freshman year. Just consider this doing me a favor. I'll remember this kindness."
I gripped my phone, feeling sick to my stomach.
Not this again.
He had used this trick more than once.
During the second half of freshman year, he told me he wanted to invite me to a film screening and asked me to bring my camera.
I carefully did my makeup and carried all my equipment over.
Only when I arrived did I find out that he and Serene just needed publicity photos of them as a couple.
The two of them were wearing borrowed formal outfits and standing close together outside the library entrance.
Jonathan smiled at me. "You're pretty good at photography, aren't you? Take a few shots for us. I'll buy you a drink after the promotional photos are done."
I stood under the scorching sun for three hours.
I never got the drink.
Instead, he posted the edited photos on his social media with the caption: Thanks to a certain junior for kindly taking the photos.
Serene immediately commented: The junior really knows how to read the room.
After that, whatever feelings I had for Jonathan completely shattered.
Now, he was using the phrase, "do me a favor," to pressure me again.
I asked coldly, "Jonathan, do you actually think your face can be used like a credit card?"
- Writer
