After what felt like an eternity of humiliation, I finally found someone who agreed to hear me out, but only under one condition.
“You have to eat this slice of mango cake,” the person said smugly, placing the dessert in front of me.
“I’m allergic to mangoes,” I explained, keeping my voice calm despite the knot tightening in my chest. “I can’t eat it.”
Their expression instantly darkened. Without a moment’s hesitation, they slammed the cake onto my head, the sticky frosting smearing across my face and dripping into my eyes. The laughter that erupted around me was deafening, ringing in my ears as though the entire room had become a cruel circus.
Margot walked up to me before I could even process what had just happened. Her face was a mixture of disdain and annoyance as she handed me a towel as if she were doing me some kind of favor.
“Frank,” she said in exasperation, “why do you keep doing this to yourself? Why humiliate yourself like this?”
Before I could answer, Steven chimed in, his voice dripping with faux compassion.
“Margot, let it go. Forget about making him apologize. Just let him leave already. He looks pathetic enough as it is.”
Margot turned to him, her lips curling into a pleased smile.
“You’re so considerate, Steven,” she said, her voice soft and admiring. Then, she turned back to me, her expression hardening.
“Alright, Frank,” she said flatly. “You can—”
“No!” a loud voice interrupted. The crowd parted slightly as one of Steven’s fans stepped forward, pointing a finger at me. I recognized him immediately—another loyal supporter of Steven who had no qualms about making my life hell.
He addressed Margot directly, his tone loud enough to ensure everyone in the room could hear him. “Margot, this guy just rejected Mr. Roberts's kind offer right in front of you. Isn’t that, like, a slap in your face?”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Another voice added, “He needs to be taught a lesson. He needs to understand that this party isn’t for just anyone.”
Margot’s gaze lingered on me for a long moment. Her lips twitched slightly before she raised a hand, signaling her bodyguards. A moment later, they wheeled out a massive three-tiered cake and placed it in front of me.
“Frank,” she said, her tone cold and detached, “eat the whole thing, and I’ll make sure they listen to what you have to say.”
The crowd erupted into laughter and cheers.