Chapter 19: The Desperate Measure
The convenience store fluorescent lights hummed their familiar, grating tune as April restocked the drink fridge for the third time that night. Her shift at Seven-Star had started at 10 PM, and it was now 2:47 AM. She had to be at school in four hours. After school, she'd work the tutoring center from 4 to 7 PM. Then she'd head to the restaurant for the dinner shift from 8 PM to midnight.
Three jobs. One girl. Zero hours to sleep.
Her hands were shaking as she arranged the bottles. Not from exhaustion, though that was there too. From the hospital bills that kept coming. From her mother's voice on the phone that afternoon, thin and desperate. From the knowledge that $18,000 might as well be $180,000.
"You look like hell, Mendoza," Mr. Han said from behind the counter, not unkindly. He was a man of few words, but those words usually carried weight. "You need to stop working so much. You're going to make yourself sick."
"I'm fine," April lied, finishing the last row of drinks.
"You're not fine," Mr. Han said. He was older, maybe in his sixties, with the weathered look of someone who'd worked his entire life. "I know that look. My wife had it when my son got sick. When money became the only thing that mattered."
April didn't respond. She just moved on to restocking the snack aisle.
By the time her shift ended at 6 AM, April had decided something had to give. She couldn't maintain this pace. No one could. But as she walked toward the subway to head to school, she had no idea what would break first—her body or her mind.
At St. Jude's Academy, the day unfolded like a punishment.
In Calculus, April forgot a basic formula. She, the #1 student, the girl who never made mistakes, forgot a simple derivative. Her teacher, Mr. Garrison, gave her a concerned look as he walked by her desk.
Chloe caught her at lunch and dragged her to the library. "Okay, that's it," Chloe said, her usually bubbly demeanor replaced with stern best-friend energy. "You're falling apart. Dark circles, you're forgetting things, you're moving like a zombie. What's going on? Is it your dad? Is the hospital stuff still—"
"I'm fine," April said, but even she could hear how unconvincing it sounded.
"You're not fine," Chloe said firmly. "And I'm not letting you disappear on me. If you won't tell me what's happening, I'm calling your mom."
"Don't," April said sharply. "Chloe, please. My mom has enough to worry about."
Chloe softened but didn't back down. "Then tell me. Let me help. That's what best friends do."
April wanted to. God, she wanted to tell Chloe everything. But the more people who knew, the more complicated it became. The more chances something could leak to the school, or to Jaden's parents, or to the wrong person entirely.
"I just need to figure some stuff out," April said finally. "I promise I'm okay. Just... tired."
Chloe didn't believe her, but she let it go—for now.
In Advanced Physics, Jaden watched April like a hawk. He noticed everything—the way her hands trembled slightly as she took notes, the way she blinked slowly like she was fighting sleep, the way her usual sharp focus had been replaced by something fragile and desperate.
After class, he pulled her aside.
"You're working too much," he said, not bothering with pleasantries.
"I'm working what I need to work," April replied, pulling her books closer to her chest defensively.
"April, you're destroying yourself," Jaden said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "Let me help. Let me give you money. My trust fund is—"
"No," April interrupted firmly. "Jaden, I'm not taking your money. That's not how this works."
"How what works?" Jaden asked, frustrated. "Us? Because from where I'm standing, 'us' means I watch you kill yourself while I sit in my mansion with money I never earned."
"That's not my responsibility," April said. "Your guilt about your privilege isn't my problem."
The words were harsh, but they were also true, and they both knew it. Jaden stepped back, something closing off in his expression.
"Okay," he said quietly. "But when you collapse, don't say I didn't warn you."
That night, at the PC cafe where Jaden went to escape, everything changed.
He was in the back booth, playing ranked matches, trying to lose himself in the game the way he always did. His fingers flew across the keyboard with practiced precision. His headset was on. The world outside the game didn't exist.
Until someone sat down across from him.
Jaden pulled off his headset, annoyed at the interruption. But the man who'd sat down was unlike anyone he'd ever seen in the cafe. He was probably in his early thirties, dressed in an expensive suit despite being in a PC cafe at 11 PM. He had sharp features and eyes that seemed to catalog everything they looked at.
"JD-Zero," the man said. It wasn't a question.
Jaden's blood ran cold. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do," the man said with a small smile. "I've been watching your gameplay for eight months. You're ranked in the top 0.1% of players globally. You're fast, intelligent, and you have something most players don't you adapt under pressure."
"Who are you?" Jaden asked, his hand already moving toward his phone. If this was some kind of threat...
"My name is Kai Park," the man said, extending his hand. "I run a professional esports organization based in Seoul, with expanding operations here. And I think you're wasting your time in high school."
Jaden didn't take his hand. "I'm not interested in whatever this is."
"Not even to help with your girlfriend's family's medical bills?" Kai asked softly.
The temperature in the booth seemed to drop fifty degrees.
"How do you—"
"I know a lot of things, Jaden," Kai interrupted, his voice pleasant but with an edge of steel underneath. "I know you're the heir to the Sterling empire. I know you've been hiding a professional-level gaming career from your father. And I know that April Mendoza's father is in the hospital with an $18,000 bill that her family can't pay."
Jaden's hands clenched into fists. "If you're threatening her ..."
"I'm not threatening anyone," Kai said calmly. "I'm offering an opportunity. There's a tournament in three weeks called the Crimson Circuit. Regional competition, but prestigious. Top three finishers get professional contract offers. Real money, Jaden. Enough to solve your girlfriend's problems and give you a path toward something you're actually passionate about."
"I'm not interested," Jaden said, but his voice wavered.
"You will be," Kai replied, standing up smoothly. He placed a business card on the desk expensive, embossed, perfectly designed. "Think about it. And when you're ready to talk seriously, call me."
He walked away before Jaden could respond, disappearing into the maze of gaming booths like he'd never been there at all.
Jaden stared at the business card for a long time. Then he looked back at his game, still paused on the screen. His character stood frozen in the middle of a firefight, waiting for his next move.
Jaden picked up his phone and texted April: We need to talk. Tonight. After your shift.
He had no idea what he was about to set in motion. But as he stared at that business card, he knew one thing for certain: everything was about to change.