Chapter 1
“…please repeat this word, Tanaka-san: Visionary. Yes, that’s correct! Good job!” A soft sigh escaped my lips, barely controlling to roll my eyes. What a pain. Looking at the clock, a minute to go.
“Anyway, you did awesomely well today, Tanaka-san! Please don’t forget to review the lesson today. See you next time!” *click*
‘I really hope not, you bore.’ I thought as I finished typing the class report.
Work done, I grabbed my phone at the foot of my bed, scrolled through Spotify for some relaxing music. “Love Shot” by EXO from my ‘BEST SONGS’ playlist blasted out like a hymn of sexy angels as I lounged on my very comfortable chair, closing my eyes to rest.
He was actually one of the better students I’ve had this week. As a home-based ESL teacher for over two years now, I’ve encountered different types of people. From successful business owners, retirees, perverted old men, etc. They share bits and pieces about their life, one of the reasons why I slowly started looking back at my own.
“I’m figuring things out at my own pace right now.”
A lie I tell to people. The truth is, at 30 years old, I still don’t have an idea what to do with my life. Whether I turn out to be an important person or just a waste of space (something I fear so dearly) is not something I can tell right now.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Thoughts like these have been constant for a while now, bothering me every waking moment. I thought about my room, white walls with no decoration - ‘…haven’t killed that spider yet’, white door, a built-in white closet and a grey floor. Utterly boring, like my life right now.
“Zi!!! Come down, dinner’s ready!” A shout jolted me out of my thoughts, my awesome mother.
Mathilda Cruz, an accomplished Filipino doctor of internal medicine but decided to “put down the stethoscope” to raise me, her very beautiful daughter, so she says anyway. I mean, she’s not wrong.
A premium mix of Filipino, Chinese and Korean ancestry, Zetian Cruz Do. Standing at an impressive height of 174 cm, long silky black hair, legs for days and a face that can even tempt gods – *ehem*, as you can tell, I very much love myself. Narcissist, they say, pish posh!
My father? He’s in China with his mistress, the slut. Cheers to him!
Opening my eyes, I stood up but the siren call of my queen (of course) sized bed is too tempting that this mighty pirate threw herself unto the bed, face first. “Gonna eat later! Thanks!” I hollered back. ‘Mmmm, so comf--’
*bzzzt bzzzt*
‘Eughhh. What now!’ complaining as I checked the phone beside me. Huh. Weird. Low battery again? I just charged it earlier. Grumbling about the unfairness of it all, I plugged it in to charge.
“Ohhh! An update!” I exclaimed loudly when a new chapter notification popped up. Reading online novels is an obsession, you see. And Eight Treasures Trousseau is my current favourite. It’s about the inner court intrigues of an alternate ancient china, a must read I should say. Already tired from work, I slowly dozed off while reading.
Initializing…
I faintly heard a Jarvis-like voice before I succumbed to Morpheus’ embrace.
Money is Might