My Undead Tormentor

Diary of a Doomed Underdog

She trudged out of the interview, stomach heavy with the familiar disappointment. They’d told her, with their polite, rehearsed smiles, that they’d "call her." She knew what that meant—another dead-end, another promise that’d fade away like all the others. With a sigh, she found herself wandering aimlessly, unsure where to go but desperate to shake off the lingering sense of failure.

Her mind was a chaotic swirl of frustration and regret, punctuated by the relentless reminder of her student loans, looming like a dark cloud over her head. What had she been thinking? She’d walked into college with big dreams, a naïve belief that education was a golden ticket, but all she had to show for it now were mountains of debt and a string of rejections. She muttered curses under her breath, blaming herself for ever believing that a degree would guarantee a job. Instead, here she was, floundering, stuck in a life that felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Eventually, her steps led her to a small park, filled with the sounds of laughter and the soft hum of life around her. She watched little kids hobbling around, holding their parents' hands or chasing after dogs on short leashes. A couple of friends nearby shared a loud laugh, clutching their ice creams like precious treasures. Ice cream sounded like the perfect medicine.

But as she sat down on a bench, she rummaged through her purse, hoping to find some change. Her heart sank as she realized the truth: just a few sad cents glinted back at her. Her cheeks burned with humiliation. Behind her, the line was starting to grow, and she could hear someone’s impatient voice. “Come on, lady, hurry it up!”

The embarrassment crawled up her neck, and she muttered a quick, flustered, “Sorry,” before slipping away, head down and shoulders hunched. Her little moment of happiness fizzled, leaving her sulking on the bench, feeling lower than ever. She cursed under her breath, wishing she could disappear.

She peeled herself away from the ice cream line, cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. There she was, stuck in the city with student loans she’d never be able to pay off, failed job interviews stacking up like a sad little collection, and now no money for a single scoop of ice cream. Ice cream—the one simple joy that could’ve salvaged her day. But apparently, even that was too much to ask.

As she walked toward the nearest bench, she felt the weight of the day pressing down on her, along with that familiar voice in her head, the one that had a nasty habit of reminding her just how thoroughly she'd messed up her life. “Great job, you. A whole degree and nothing to show for it except debt and desperation.” She could almost imagine her younger self giving her a disappointed stare, wondering how in the world she’d ended up here. “I bet no one else from high school is getting yelled at for holding up an ice cream line. Yeah, I’m really living the dream.”

She flopped onto the bench, eyeing the carefree people around her, laughing, holding hands, and casually paying for their ice cream without flinching. She scoffed at herself, biting back the urge to groan. "Perfect. I’m a certified park bench sulker now. Just add ‘public spectacle’ to the resume. I’ll get hired in no time.” The sting of it hit deeper than she wanted to admit, like the universe itself was playing some elaborate, cruel joke, daring her to keep getting up only to shove her back down again.

Her gaze drifted to a kid skipping across the grass, clutching his dripping cone and giggling as his mom tried to stop him from wearing it all over his shirt. She swallowed hard, the simple happiness making her ache. She wanted to be that carefree too, to walk through a park without the constant weight of money and ambition pressing on her like she was always one step away from a cliff edge.

“You know what, fine,” she muttered to herself. “No ice cream. Just hunger and humiliation today.” She tipped her head back, squinting at the sky like it might hold answers or at least a little pity. “Thanks for that, universe. Really appreciate the kick while I’m down.”

Then, as she wallowed in the misery of it all, She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear someone approach until a quiet clearing of the throat broke her out of her stupor. She looked up, startled, only to find the ice cream guy himself standing there, holding two double-scoop cones, each piled high with rich, creamy chocolate hazelnut—her absolute favorite flavor. The sight alone made her throat tighten with unexpected emotion. She hadn’t realized just how badly she needed this small act of kindness. He smiled, his eyes crinkling, and held one out to her.

He looked at her with a warm smile that sent a small thrill through her. “Hey there,” he said, his voice easy and friendly. “I thought you could use a bit of this sugary goodness today.”

Her heart melted a little at his sweet smile, that simple kindness easing the burden in her chest. He handed one of the cones to her, and it felt like a tiny gift, an unexpected moment of joy in an otherwise miserable day.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, settling onto the bench beside her, his presence instantly making her feel a bit lighter.

She managed a small nod, feeling the words jumble up inside her. “Oh, I… forgot my money. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Hey,” he interrupted with a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “You don’t have to explain. We all have those days.” The warmth in his voice, so free of judgment, loosened the knot of embarrassment inside her.

As he settled beside her, she stole a quick look at him. He had an easy, approachable charm, a boy-next-door look that made her feel instantly at ease. His hair, a little disheveled from the day’s work, framed his face in a way that was both endearing and effortlessly handsome. His shirt was slightly wrinkled, his sneakers dusted with a day’s worth of activity, but it only made him seem more real. He had that kind of unpretentious confidence that didn’t need showy looks or fancy clothes—just a genuine smile and kind eyes.

“So,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I gotta ask… What’s your deal? You come here often to sulk on park benches, or is today just special?”

She laughed, a real, sudden laugh that startled her, especially after the miserable day she’d had. She hadn’t expected to find herself laughing at anything, let alone a stranger’s teasing. “Just one of those days,” she admitted, taking a tentative lick of her ice cream. “Nothing’s going right, it feels like.”

He nodded, looking at her with understanding. “Tell me about it,” he said, leaning back and stretching his arms out casually. “I used to do construction work before this, and I’m pretty sure I set a record for how many times I got rejected in a row.” He smiled wryly. “Let’s just say it feels pretty damn good to have an actual job, even if it means handing out ice cream all day.”

There was something so disarmingly genuine about him, his honesty unpolished and comforting. She felt herself relaxing, the bitterness from earlier melting away under his casual, easy conversation. His humor was light, a little goofy, but it kept her smiling, his anecdotes filled with small mishaps that somehow made her own day feel a little less disastrous. At one point, he made a corny joke about what flavors people picked being a “window to the soul,” and when she groaned at the punchline, he just laughed, watching her in that way that made her feel oddly seen.

“You know, I don’t usually give free ice cream to strangers,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially, “but I have a soft spot for those of us on the ‘bad day’ team.”

“Then thank you,” she said softly, feeling her cheeks warm again but this time in a much more pleasant way. She glanced at him, meeting his gaze, and felt the slightest flutter in her stomach. His expression had softened, his face open and warm, like he was genuinely glad he’d made her smile.

“By the way,” he said, his voice a little more serious now, “I’m Alex.” He held out his hand, the friendly gesture making her feel like the world wasn’t quite so heavy.

She took his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip linger. “Nice to meet you, Alex, I'm Lena” she replied, offering her name in return. They exchanged numbers, each doing that little, awkward dance of pretending it was no big deal. But when he stood to leave, a mischievous glint in his eye, she felt a genuine smile spreading across her face, the kind that lingered long after he’d walked away.

As she headed home, her heart felt a little lighter, and a tiny spark of determination flickered to life. She sat down at her computer, applying for jobs with a renewed sense of purpose. The weight of her failures wasn’t gone, but it didn’t feel as heavy. And as she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts kept wandering back to Alex and the way he’d managed to make her day a little brighter.