IN LOVE WITH YOU [SLOW UPDATES]

17

~PHI's POV~

I waited for Naina outside the bakery, tapping my feet, glancing at my watch time and again. I was getting late for my part-time job at the café. Hillary would definitely cut my pay this time. Now, I wasn't playing guitar at the café just for money, but who wants to see it slipping away from their hands.

What is taking her so long?

I turned to the bakery but bumped into a girl. She looked young, probably a high schooler. Her hair were open and a bag pack was slinging on one shoulder. Her face had no hint of innocence.

She gaped at me with her eyes wide and shrieked, "How dare you touch me?"

"What? I didn't. It was just an accident!"

"You did, asshole! You think I don't know? You Asian prick!"

I closed my fists tight, so tight that my nails dug into my palm. Teenagers could be so disrespectful, not to mention racist as well. Now I understood why my mother was so strict whenever I acted out of line as a teenager. It doesn't hurt to be a good person, she would often say.

"That's the last time, I am saying. I didn't touch you. And stop being a racist," I said, gritting my teeth.

"Showing me your anger, are you? Wait and watch now!" she said and walked to the Red Ferrari that had pulled into the driveway just before I bumped into the girl.

I crossed my arms and waited with a "Oh yeah?" look on my face.

"Jerry! Jerry!" she bumped her fists on the car mirror several times before it rolled down.

"Shut the fuck up! Will you? I'm on a call," a heavy voice growled from inside. This was something I had not expected and, I suppose, neither did that arrogant girl. She had turned into a whimpering cat in jiffy. If she had not created the ruckus, I would have pitied her, but the situation was different now.

The owner of the Ferrari came out after a minute. He looked older than a high schooler, more like in his early 20s. His shaven head, extremely tattered jeans and black vest made him look like a gangster. I looked at the Ferrari. It was either stolen or bought from drug money. And he clearly ruined my favourite cartoon character.

He spat a chewing gum on the ground, licked his lips and cracked his finger joints.

"Now tell me, what is it?" he said in his heavy voice, which was fake, one could clearly tell.

"Babe! This Asian! He molested me," she whimpered again.

A sense of shock washed my anger when I heard the word "molest".

Molest.

I looked around. Some people had gathered, looking at me with their suspicious eyes. They thought I was a molester.

My breaths turned shallow. My heart paced with anger. It was hard to stay calm now.

"Don't accuse me of something I haven't done," I said, pointing a finger at her.

"How dare you talk to her like that, bloody Asian! Motherfucker!"

"I'll get you kicked in jail right away, stealing our jobs and land. Now you even have the audacity to point fingers," the girl said.

"Babe! You're my girl. Show him you are," the guy encouraged her. The girl, now overflowing with insanity, raised her hand and hit me on my right cheek.

Everything was silent. Frozen. People on their way to home and the birds on their way to nests stopped to see the drama unfold. I could hear the druggie laughing. I clenched my fists, ready to break his nose. But before that, I heard a loud slap.