The morning sun filtered weakly through the cracked window of the small two-room apartment, casting soft patches of light on the worn-out floorboards. Mei Lin lay sprawled on the thin mattress that served as her bed, tangled up in a mess of blankets and clothes, her long dark hair fanning out in wild strands over the pillow. She didn't want to wake yet. But the tiny voices began their relentless chorus.
"Ma-ma!" the soft voice of Mei Lin's daughter called out from the baby monitor, followed almost immediately by the boisterous shout of her eldest, Lian.
"Mom, I'm hungry!" he yelled, banging his tiny fists against the crib rails. Jun, the youngest, was already awake and squirming, kicking the soft blanket and trying to escape the confines of his crib.
It was only 6:15 AM, but Mei Lin's day had already started.
With a resigned sigh, she flung the covers off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She rubbed her tired eyes and swung herself upright, balancing on bare feet. The apartment was still quiet aside from the noisy nursery corner that housed her triplets — three little whirlwinds who had already begun to demand her attention.
"Alright, alright," Mei Lin whispered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Let's get this show on the road."
The nursery corner was a small, cramped space she'd carved out of the living room, a baby crib with peeling paint, a few mismatched toys, and a mountain of baby clothes folded in the corner. The triplets, barely three years old, were each as different as could be.
Lian, the eldest by minutes but the most dominant in personality, was already climbing the side of the crib, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. He loved to test boundaries, and his tiny fingers were often up to no good.
Mei, the middle child and only girl, was quiet and observant, with a shy smile and large curious eyes that always seemed to be watching everything carefully. She sucked on a pacifier and reached out to hold Mei Lin's hand when she approached.
Jun, the baby of the three, was a bundle of energy kicking his legs wildly and babbling in his own language, his dark hair sticking up in untamable tufts.
Mei Lin scooped up Jun and balanced him on her hip while gently pulling Lian down before he could topple himself.
"Breakfast time, my little hurricanes," she said with a smile, though the exhaustion tugged hard at the corners of her lips.
The tiny kitchen was the next battleground. Pots clanged, the coffee machine sputtered, and pancake batter splattered across the counters as Mei Lin tried to feed three very different children at once.
"Lian, no catapulting pancakes again," she warned, swiping a soggy flapjack from his hand. The boy grinned wildly, syrup dripping from the corners of his mouth.
Mei clung to her spoon, reluctant but obedient, while Jun reached out and knocked a glass of milk off the table, sending it spilling in slow motion across the floor.
"Jun! No!" Mei Lin shouted, diving to catch him before he slipped.
Her morning wasn't perfect. It was messy, loud, and unpredictable, but it was hers, filled with laughter, love, and just enough chaos to keep life interesting.
After the morning whirlwind, Mei Lin kissed the triplets goodbye as they were left in the care of her best friend Jia, who had been like a sister to her for years. Jia's apartment was just a short walk away — small but warm, filled with secondhand furniture and the sounds of old jazz records.
Jia worked part-time at a local café, and her boyfriend Wei worked as personal assistant at the billionaire's corporate empire downtown. a fact that Mei Lin found ironic given the chaos in her own life.
Mei Lin was up next for her three jobs: a waitress at the smoky late-night bar; a cleaner at a corporate office; and a temp clerk at a busy supermarket. The schedule was grueling, but she needed every penny.
By the time the sun was low, Mei Lin was already on her shift.
The bar was dark and smoky, the scent of spilled beer and sweat thick in the air. She moved gracefully among the tables, a smile pasted on her face, serving late-night patrons who often treated her more like a fixture than a person.
Between orders, she allowed herself a moment to daydream , of peace, of a life where she didn't have to fight so hard.
After the bar came the corporate cleaning job. The contrast was stark — the sterile glass walls and polished floors a world away from the grimy bar.
She swept and dusted with silent determination, the rhythm of her work a brief reprieve from her thoughts.
Her first job was the supermarket. The beep of the scanner, the chatter of customers, the endless line of groceries, it all blended into a blur.
Through it all, Mei Lin held onto one truth: this was her fight. And she would win.
When the day's grind was done, Mei Lin returned to Jia's apartment.
Jia greeted her with a tired but genuine smile, her bruises hidden beneath long sleeves.
"You're a warrior," Jia said softly, handing Mei Lin a cup of lukewarm tea.
They sat together on the worn couch, sharing silence and strength.
"You ever think about giving up?" Mei Lin asked one night, voice barely above a whisper.
Jia shook her head, fierce as ever. "No. Giving up is a luxury we don't have."
Their friendship was a lifeline, a shared refuge in a world that often felt merciless.
In the quiet moments after the triplets had finally fallen asleep, Mei Lin would sit by the window, staring out at the city lights.
Her mind drifted to possibilities, a better apartment, steady income, a future where she didn't have to worry about rent or food.
But those dreams were fragile, easily crushed by the weight of reality.
Still, hope flickered, stubborn and bright.
After her brief meditate, Mei Lin sat on the wornout sofa, counting her money and scouring job listings on her old phone. Rent was overdue; the landlord's threats were becoming more frequent.
"Pay up by the end of the week or you're out," read the last message.
Mei Lin's heart tightened, but she pushed down the panic.
"I'll find a way," she whispered fiercely. "I always do."
---
One night, after finishing her shift at the bar, Mei Lin sat at a tiny table in the corner, scrolling through job postings. When an opening at a new company popped up, something about it caught her eye.
She crafted a new resume, careful to emphasize her strengths, her resilience, work ethic, and ability to manage chaos without breaking.
She hesitated before hitting "Submit." Then, with a breath steadying her nerves, she clicked send.
"This could be the one," she thought, hope flickering in her chest.
---
The night air was heavy with the scent of rain as Mei Lin trudged back to Jia's apartment, her limbs aching from the endless hours on her feet. The streets were nearly empty, lit only by flickering street lamps and the occasional hum of a distant car. Her mind replayed the day's chaos—the spilled milk, the screaming triplets, the customers' impatient glares and still, she had pushed through.
Jia's door swung open before Mei Lin could knock. Her best friend stood there, wrapped in an oversized cardigan, her smile warm but tired.
"You're late," Jia teased gently, stepping aside to let her in.
Mei Lin shrugged, dropping her worn bag on the floor. "Had to cover an extra hour. The bar was packed."
Inside, the apartment was a refuge despite its cramped space and peeling paint. Toys were scattered across the floor, and a thin blanket covered the small sofa where the triplets slept soundly.
Jia handed Mei Lin a steaming cup of tea, their fingers brushing briefly.
"Here. You need this more than I do."
Mei Lin took the cup gratefully, her fingers curling around the warmth. For a moment, she let herself breathe, the tension loosening just a little.
They settled onto the sofa, the soft hum of the city seeping through the cracked window.
Mei Lin stared down at the half-empty cup, the bitterness of the tea matching the exhaustion in her bones.
"I sent that resume today," she murmured. "Maybe it's too late, Jia. Maybe I'm just fooling myself."
Jia shook her head firmly. "You're not fooling anyone but the people who underestimate you. And they do that at their own risk."
Mei Lin smiled faintly, grateful for Jia's unwavering faith.
But deep down, a cold knot of worry twisted tighter each day. Rent was overdue again. The landlord's threats grew louder.
The night stretched on, and Mei Lin's thoughts drifted to the triplets.
Lian, with his boundless energy and cheeky grin, always finding trouble no matter how hard she tried.
Mei, shy and gentle, holding onto Mei Lin's hand as if the world was a scary place.
Jun, tiny but fierce, babbling happily in his crib.
They were her reason. Her heart and her anchor.
No matter how hard the world pushed, she would not let them fall.
Jia's soft voice broke the silence. "You deserve better, Mei Lin."
"I just want a chance," Mei Lin whispered, staring out at the city lights. "A chance to breathe."
Jia squeezed her hand. "And you'll get it. I believe that."
The room was quiet but alive with unspoken promises.
The soft glow of the bedside lamp barely pierced the thick darkness of Jia's small apartment. The worn curtains fluttered slightly as a gentle breeze slipped in through the cracked window, carrying with it the distant hum of the city nightlife.
Mei Lin lay on the couch, too restless to sleep, her thoughts tangled in the knots of the day's exhaustion and worries about the triplets. Jia was already asleep in her bedroom, her soft breathing steady and calm...at least for now.
Then, suddenly, the quiet was shattered.
The sharp trill of Jia's phone broke the stillness like glass breaking.
Mei Lin sat up instantly, her heart pounding.
Jia stirred and reached blindly for the phone on her bedside table.
The screen flashed a name Mei Lin hated to see: Wei.
Jia's fingers trembled as she swiped to answer.
Jia took a shaky breath and answered.
"Hello?"
Wei's voice was cold, clipped, and merciless.
"We need to talk. It's over, Jia. I'm done."
For a moment, Jia simply stared into the darkness, unable to speak. The words felt like icy knives piercing her heart.
"Why? What did I do?" she whispered, voice cracking, eyes wide with disbelief.
"There's nothing to explain," Wei spat. "You're a distraction. I have bigger things to deal with. This—us—is over."
A choked sob escaped Jia's lips. Then came the first crack of her pain, raw and unfiltered.
"No. You can't do this," she cried, her voice breaking under the weight of betrayal.
Mei Lin sat frozen, watching as Jia's walls crumbled. Then suddenly, the floodgates burst open.
Jia's body shook as she unleashed a torrent of curses, angry and desperate.
"F**k you, Wei! How could you? What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Tears streamed down her cheeks as the bitter storm inside her raged uncontrollably.
But then, just as suddenly, her voice shifted.. harsh and biting, laced with bitter laughter.
"Hhahaha. Of course. This is exactly like you. Cold. Cruel. Nothing but bullshit."
Mei Lin's eyes widened as Jia's laughter turned hollow, slipping into a sobbing mess again, the fierce anger dissolving into heart-wrenching sorrow.
Jia clutched the phone to her chest, trembling, the conflicting emotions tearing her apart—rage, heartbreak, disbelief, and despair all colliding like a violent storm.
Mei Lin reached out, gently pulling Jia into a trembling embrace.
"It's going to be okay," she whispered, though even she wasn't sure if it was true.
Jia buried her face in Mei Lin's shoulder, the fragile mask of strength shattered completely as the night swallowed their quiet sobs.
The night had been a cruel thief, stealing every moment of sleep from Mei Lin's restless mind. Hours passed like slow-moving shadows while she lay awake on Jia's worn-out couch, her heart pounding with a fierce, burning fury that refused to be quelled. Her thoughts were a storm, wild, raw, and vengeful.
No one dared to play with Jia.
No one.
The man who had broken her best friend's heart, who had the audacity to toss her aside like a broken toy, would pay.
Mei Lin's hands clenched into fists as she paced the cramped living room, her mind racing through a plan, something bold, something public, something that would humiliate Wei the way he deserved.
She wouldn't let Jia suffer in silence.
"I'm going to make him regret ever crossing us," she muttered, eyes blazing with determination.