CHAPTER 81: FIVE YEAR AGO

Atlas had only one plan: distract himself by watching all the fools in the world gather in one place. Judging people had always been a hobby he couldn’t get rid of. He planned to go to a nightclub and just watch people make mistakes they’d be embarrassed by for the rest of their lives.

The red-light district, however, was not in his plans. But with his limited knowledge of the city’s nightlife, he simply went to the most lively area at this hour. There were tons of nightclubs, with girls standing outside, calling out for his attention.

He ignored all of them and searched for a slightly decent place. Fortunately, he found one—a bar that didn’t seem to stand out from the rest.

Atlas idled at the bar counter, watching someone sing on a small stage while people enjoyed the music with their drinks. He eavesdropped on a few conversations, making him wonder why these people found such topics interesting.

He was able to distract himself for a while, but not with the conversations. He was distracting himself with the drink he had been chugging without realizing he’d had more than enough.

"I’m drunk," he whispered to himself, forcing his eyes open as the room started to spin.

Shaking his head, he pulled out a bill and slapped it on the counter. He didn’t even bother to stop as the bartender called after him about his change.

Atlas hurried out of the establishment, massaging his temple. On his way, he realized this was a terrible decision. His body was still inflamed, and the alcohol hadn’t helped calm him. If anything, he felt suffocated and intoxicated, yet hungry.

The "soup" he’d been served earlier that had started all of this was surely poison.

Making one mistake, or rather, failing at something, was one thing. Atlas didn’t want to make another by driving himself home when he knew he wasn’t capable. So, he quickly found a motel to spend the night.

Finding one was not hard, especially in an area like this.

A motel was not a place he would usually be seen. He had never been in one before and never planned to be. There were simply too many other options for him to sleep, but not tonight.

After finding a decent place to spend the night, Atlas locked himself in the shower for a long, cold one to lower his growing body heat. It helped... for a bit. Deep down, however, he knew it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to do; he just refused to do it, even for his own survival.

He stayed under the cold shower for as long as he could remember.

But then, walking out of the shower with only a towel clinging to his hips, he stopped.

"???" Deep lines appeared between his brows as he lifted his gaze to the bed.

There, someone was lying down.

Atlas glanced at the door; it was closed. Just to be sure, he approached it and checked the lock. It was still locked. He then walked back to the bed, eyeing the person sleeping on it.

"This is why motels aren’t for me," he whispered, approaching the bed and staring at the person as if she were some species that needed to be studied.

She was plump, and her colorful attire was enough to show her strange taste. He tilted his head to the side, poking what looked like her double chin.

It bounced.

"..." He blinked, about to walk away, when he noticed a tear rolling down the side of her face.

Her eyes slowly parted, revealing the tears that had been pooling underneath her eyelids. Her vision was blurry, and she was hiccupping from either crying or the drinks she’d had tonight. She stared at the face hovering over her, blinking her tears away.

Just as her vision cleared slightly, he spoke.

"Wrong room," he drawled. "Go away."

Yet, the woman bit her quivering lips as her eyes widened. To his surprise, she suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him down. Before he even knew what was happening, his back hit the soft mattress.

The bed made a slight creak as a weight pressed down on him.

"Why don’t you leave me alone?" She whimpered, sitting on his leg, her chubby hands on his bare chest. "And you even came topless this time!"

He gazed at the woman on top of him with wide eyes. "???"

"Damn it," she hissed, wiping her tears with her arm. "This is so frustrating."

"You’re heavy."

She hiccupped and gazed down at him, bitterness filling her heart. "And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine."

"It’s your fault!" she barked, still crying out of frustration. "You made me depressed! I said I’ll drink to make myself feel better, but damn it."

Confused, Atlas just stared at the crying lady on top of him. He wasn’t well himself and was suffering from the aphrodisiac he had consumed, but now a woman was crying on top of him.

Was this how people seduce others nowadays?

"Just say it if you want to sleep with me," he muttered flatly.

The woman hiccupped, raising her brows at him. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, biting her inner bottom lip. Instead of answering him, she cried even more and buried her face in her palms.

"I am really hopeless," she muttered to herself. "So, so pathetic!"

"Why?" he asked curiously. "Is sleeping with me pathetic?"

She peeked at him through the gaps in her fingers. "No," she hiccupped, her voice quiet. "It would be amazing to sleep with Atlas Bennet—hehehehehe."

His mind buzzed as he listened to her sudden devilish giggle.

"But I’m saying the real one—that guy’s just... goodness." She sighed heavily, dropping her hands to her side. "That guy’s just amazing, then and now. No matter where I am in the world, I keep hearing things about him."

Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "Yet, here I am, being the pathetic fool I am—I’m so angry at myself, I will kill them all!"

"You’ll go to jail if you do."

"!!!" She winced and narrowed her eyes at him. Wasn’t this a little too realistic?

Shaking her head, she slowly wobbled and melted onto his chest. "What do I do?" she whispered. "I feel like I’ll go crazy."

"What’s the problem?"

She looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. She frowned, tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes once more.

"I am. I am the problem," she breathed out. "I’m just... too stupid. How can I make terrible decisions when I should be making good ones? Why is my life so hard? And how come no matter what I try, I’m just a loser?"

"I’m ugly, fat, foolish, so damn pathetic, and after chugging all the drinks I can, here I am crying to an apparition of the man of my dreams," she added. "Isn’t that pathetic?"

He blinked, staring at her as if studying her face. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, "Want to sleep with me?"

"God..." she sighed heavily. Was she just going to have a wet dream now too?

The bitterness in her heart swelled even more as she snapped her eyes up at him. "Will you even sleep with a fat, ugly person? You’re not crazy—"

The rest of her words stopped as his hand suddenly reached for the back of her head, pulling her down. Her eyes dilated as something firm and hot pressed on her lips. However, thinking it was just a realistic dream, she slowly closed her eyes and let him help her forget.

Even if it was just in a dream—a wet dream—she let him help her... again.