After I was kicked out of the house, my sister, Nicole Thompson, and I met at a nightclub five years later.

She was the VIP client who spent millions to celebrate Michael West's, her godbrother's, birthday, while I was the male host in the hype team.

We didn't talk to each other the whole time until she saw me chugging two bottles of whiskey for a 500 dollar tip.

When she saw my pallid face, she questioned coldly and unhappily, "You'd rather do this disgusting job than come home and apologize? Jack, you really are unbelievable!"

I just smiled indifferently and held out my hand to her.

"500 bucks. Cash or Venmo?"

Times had moved on, and I no longer wished to bring up past grudges.

However, the 500 dollars I had just earned was just enough for me to pay the balance due for my cremation urn.

Drinking for Money

The VIP room was completely silent. Everyone was looking at me with different expressions.

Eventually, someone among the crowd burst out laughing first.

Nicole, sitting on the sofa, instantly turned grim with embarrassment when she heard the laughter.

After all, 500 dollars barely even covered the breakfast for people of her status.

Yet, I had subserviently chugged two bottles of whiskey in a row for it.

"Nicole has been waiting for you to come home. Yet, you're here doing this kind of job? Aren't you disgusted?" Michael mocked me.

When I heard him, I glanced at him and retorted, "What's so disgusting about making money through drinking? It's not like I'm whoring myself out."

He sneered dismissively, "You're so short of money, huh? Then, you can drink two more bottles. I'll add another 500 to your tip."

As soon as he finished speaking, the onlookers began to shout boisterously.

"Drink up! Since Michael added 500, I'll do the same!"

"Me too! I'll add 1,000!"

I didn't hesitate to reach out and grab another bottle of whiskey.

Suddenly, the door to the VIP room swung open. The manager, who had learned of the commotion, entered with an obsequious look.

"Ms. Thompson, did he do something wrong?" he asked Nicole in a fawning manner after pushing me aside. "Please don't be angry. He's dumb, so if—"

"Are you going to drink for him?" Nicole interrupted him coldly, her eyes narrowing ominously.

The manager broke out in a cold sweat. He didn't want to stand up for me, but he was also afraid that he would be in trouble if I drank myself to death. Therefore, he had no choice but to force a smile and reason with her. "No normal person could drink this much alcohol."

"Get lost if you're not going to drink!"

Nicole frowned in frustration, took out 100,000 in cash from her bag, and threw it at the manager.

"Jack can't leave tonight. I'll put your nightclub out of business if you keep getting in my way!"

The manager hurriedly stuffed the money into his pocket, his face beaming with joy. I could tell right then that he could barely give a whit about me. He simply thanked Nicole and strode away.

Once again, all eyes turned to me.

"What's wrong? You don't want the money anymore?" Nicole sneered.

I walked over expressionlessly, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and downed it in one gulp.

However, my stomach was already twisting in knots after having already downed two bottles. Frankly, the liquid felt like knives sliding down my gullet.

So, I drank this bottle of whiskey very slowly, which drew a lot of ridicule.

Nicole's face turned increasingly stormy.

As I finished one bottle and staggered to get another, she abruptly grabbed my wrist.

"Are you out of your mind, Jack?"

"I want money."

I pulled my hand away, grabbed the whiskey, and poured it into my mouth.

Actually, I had thought it through. Since the lighting in the VIP room was dim, I would pretend I couldn't hold the bottle properly while I was drinking and spill some. No one would notice anyway.

Unfortunately, someone slapped me hard across the face just as I took a sip.

I was stunned by the blow, and the bottle in my hand fell to the ground and shattered.

Nicole snarled, "Are you really going to debase yourself like this for money? Stop drinking! I won't give you a single penny even if you drink yourself to your death!"

As the alcohol took effect, I started seeing psychedelic patterns.

That voice, buried deep in my heart for five years, seemed to echo in my ears suddenly.

'I can't believe you actually sold Mom's belongings for money! Haven't I provided you with everything you need? Why don't you just sell yourself? Get out of here! You're not my brother anymore!'

So Tired of Life

Michael played a dirty trick on me five years ago. He stole my mother's belongings from Nicole, sold them, and claimed that I was the one who did it.

Nicole flew into a rage. She punished me by making me kneel in the snow for three days and three nights while constantly questioning me about where I had sold the belongings.

Of course, I had no idea.

I told Nicole that it was Michael's scheme to sow discord because he just couldn't stand how nice she was to me. Sadly, she absolutely refused to believe me.

Stealing, disrespecting our late mother, and being reluctant to admit my mistake—all these three offenses hit her nerves.

Due to Michael's lies, Nicole confiscated all my money and kicked me out of the house.

I did fairly well for the first six months. I found a sales job, which was enough to support myself and even leave me with some money to spare.

However, everything changed six months later.

Nicole called me for the only time in five years.

As soon as I answered the call, she asked why I hadn't come back to admit I was wrong yet and said she would forgive me as long as I told her where I sold my mother's belongings.

Since I was filled with resentment at that moment, I yelled at her, "Which part of it wasn't me that you don't understand? Ask your precious brother, Michael! He's the one who sold it!"

Nicole immediately hung up the phone, and I was fired from the company that same day.

She declared throughout Seaton that anyone who dared to hire me was going against her.

As a result, I couldn't find a decent job for the next few years and could only work as part of a nightclub's hype team.

She seemed to be doing this on purpose just for me to see. Not only did she announce that Miguel would be the sole heir to the company, but she also brought him to interviews, dinner parties, and auctions.

She was liberal with her money, often spending millions or tens of millions whenever she wanted. She also frequently appeared on financial news channels with Michael.

On the other hand, I hid in the shadows and drank myself into stomach cancer in order to support myself.

Over the past few years, I sought medical treatments everywhere. I spent all my money and took out numerous online loans, but it still wasn't enough.

The specific drugs to cure my cancer were too expensive, and chemotherapy was beyond my means.

I called Nicole to borrow money, but she cut me off impatiently after I had only said a few words. "Money! Money! Money! Don't you care about anything else?"

Don't even think about taking a single penny from me unless you come back and apologize! Otherwise, you might as well die out there!"

That phone call completely extinguished my hope of living.

I was just so tired of this, of life.

Since she wanted me dead, I might as well die.

At least, I wouldn't be in pain anymore.

I ordered a cremation urn for myself a month ago.

Although I tried my best to get the money, I was still 500 dollars short of the final payment.

The shop owner called almost every day, urging me to settle the payment.

I thought I could raise enough money today.

To my surprise, Nicole gave the manager 100,000 but refused to even give me 500.

She marched out of the club with her group.

As for me, I was throwing up my guts in the bathroom.

Only one thought was on my mind. 'I'd drunk three bottles of whiskey for nothing.'

My supervisor was smoking next to me.

"How exactly did you offend Ms. Thompson? She was livid when she left. What's your relationship with her?"

My stomach was cramping, and my head was spinning.

I could barely keep my eyes open as I held onto the toilet, trying to prevent myself from falling right into it.

"I don't know her. Enemies, maybe."

Got Fired From the Job

The next day, I was woken up by a phone call. It was the owner of the cremation urn shop.

"Jack Thompson, when are you actually going to settle the rest of the money? It's only 500 bucks. Must you drag this out for a whole month? If you can't pay me within three days, I'm not keeping it for you anymore, and the deposit is non-refundable!"

In a fit of panic, I blurted hoarsely, "Give me a little more time. I'll get paid in two weeks, and then—"

"I can't wait two weeks!" he interrupted me, his tone unfriendly. "I've never seen anyone who drags their feet like you, especially when they're here to buy a cremation urn. Don't order in advance if you don't have the money. Why buy such an expensive one if you can't afford it?"

I wanted to say something, but the call was disconnected before I could even speak.

My head was throbbing. I had no choice but to call the manager to request an advance on my salary.

Sadly, his response was just another blow to my shattered psyche. "Just letting you know, you don't need to come to work today," he said. "We can't pay you your salary either. It's an order from Ms. Thompson, so there's nothing we can do."

My mind went blank as my voice cracked with anxiety. "What you're doing violates labor law! I demand arbitration!"

The manager simply sneered at me, "Arbitration? Go ahead, then. Ms. Thompson said she will bear all the consequences, no matter what they are. Besides, her legal team is second to none in the country. If you insist on asking for trouble, then there's nothing I can do."

Then, he hung up on me.

A feeling of frustration welled up inside me, and I couldn't get over it.

I felt so uncomfortable that my face turned pale. At the same time, my throat tasted like rust.

Suddenly, I vomited a mouthful of blood.

As I stared at the glaring pool of bright red blood, I felt as if a knife was twisting in my heart.

Only after a while did I take out some tissue paper to wipe the blood clean.

Then, I skillfully took out a painkiller and swallowed it whole.

I barely had the strength to move after all that.

As I leaned against the bed, I couldn't help but think about what had happened over the past five years since I was kicked out.

A sudden realization hit me. Nicole was the one who had personally ruined all my backup plans.

Now that I couldn't even work in nightclubs anymore, I would definitely struggle to make ends meet, let alone afford painkillers and a cremation urn.

All I wanted was a decent eternal home when I die. What was so wrong with that?

My eyes fell on my trembling hands, and I finally decided to take a trip back home.

I wanted to ask Nicole what right she had to treat me like this.