Chapter 3 Apologize on Your Knees

Max had always lived a life filled with relentless humiliation, as if he were born to be a target for others. One of his jobs was at a small café, where he worked three hours a day. But ever since he started there, not a day went by without Michael finding a way to make his life even more miserable.

After Lisa's betrayal and her accusations of blackmail against him, Max's life became harsher and more painful, especially with Michael escalating his humiliation and insults. Max worked diligently at the café, delivering orders, his eyes darting nervously in the bustling environment. He suddenly noticed Michael sitting at a corner table with a group of his wealthy friends. Instinctively, driven by the fear ingrained in him over time, Max tried to avoid them, but he had no choice but to serve them their coffee.

With trembling hands and a tray laden with hot cups, Max approached Michael's table. Just a few steps away, he felt something suddenly block his path. Looking down, he saw Michael's foot deliberately extended at the last moment. Max tripped and fell, sending the cups tumbling over him as hot coffee splattered across his body and face.

In the tense silence that followed, Michael burst out laughing, his voice echoing through the café. "You idiot! Is coffee your new shower now?" he sneered loudly, as though addressing a pet dog. "What have you done? Are you blind, or just dumber than I thought?"

The manager came running, his face a mixture of anger and disgust. "Max! What have you done this time?" he roared, as though Max had committed a crime. Bowing quickly before Michael and his friends, the manager apologized profusely, "I'm terribly sorry, gentlemen. I'll deal with this wretch immediately."

Then, without warning, the manager kicked Max hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling and writhing on the ground.

"You worthless fool! If I'd known you were this incompetent, I'd never have hired you!" the manager bellowed, grabbing Max by his shirt and forcing him to his feet. "Apologize now, or you're out of here!"

Barely able to breathe from the pain, Max hesitantly raised his gaze to meet Michael's. "I... I'm sorry, Mr. Michael. It won't happen again."

Michael smirked, his expression dripping with arrogance and malice. "It better not," he said, extending his foot once more to trip Max, sending him back to his knees before everyone.

The manager seized the opportunity to add to Max's humiliation. "Looks like you didn't apologize the right way, you idiot. Apologize on your knees."

Struggling to contain his emotions, Max scanned the café. The customers were all staring at him-some whispering mockingly, others looking on with disdain. In a trembling voice, he said, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Michael."

Michael nodded as if satisfied. "Good. Now clean up this mess. Don't make me warn you again."

As Max began mopping up the spilled coffee, Michael's friends didn't hold back their derisive comments.

"Look at this idiot. Is this his new profession? A human mop?" they laughed loudly.

But Max's day wasn't over yet. After three grueling hours of humiliation at the café, he had to head to his second job-a party for the city's elite, where he worked as a private server. Here, the humiliation took on a different, even crueler form.

Arriving at the lavish event, physically and emotionally drained, Max had no time to rest. The wealthy children at the party eagerly awaited their usual rituals of tormenting him.

"Hey, mop boy!" one of them called out. "Come clean this spot!" shouted another, their eyes filled with contempt. "Isn't this the genius from university? Seems like all he's good at is cleaning!"

The insults were relentless.

"Carry these drinks!"

"Polish my shoes!"

"Be my chair for an hour!"

One of them taunted, "I'll give you a hundred dollars if you become my chair tonight!" Max dropped to his knees, holding a drink above his head, trying to maintain his balance as laughter erupted around him.

At one point, someone deliberately tossed a bottle into his path. Max tripped and fell hard to the ground. Pain shot through his hand, making him suspect it was broken, but no one cared. He looked around and saw the crowd staring at him with indifference, as if he were nothing more than a source of amusement.

By the End of the Party

As Max was cleaning up after the event, Michael approached him once again. "You did well tonight, mop boy," he said with a sneering smile. "But don't forget, we've got another party tomorrow. See you there-if you're still able to stand."

Max left the party exhausted and defeated, his body battered with bruises and his heart weighed down by humiliation. All he wanted was to disappear from the world, even if only for a moment, to escape the endless cycle of degradation his life had become.

Yet Max knew one thing for certain: anger was building inside him. With every moment of humiliation, he vowed silently to himself that a day would come when everything would change, and he would avenge all who had wronged him.

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The Next Day

Max didn't expect things to get any better. What he didn't anticipate was that the humiliation would reach an entirely new level of cruelty. The next party was held in a grand villa owned by a wealthy family who happened to be friends of Michael. Max was there working as a waiter, serving food and drinks, doing his best to avoid being the center of attention.

But Michael wasn't about to let Max get through the evening without a fresh dose of torment. That night, the guests were celebrating the birthday of one of the rich kids. As the music grew louder and the night wore on, Michael decided it was time to up the ante.

As Max stood at a distance, waiting for any orders, Michael pointed at him and shouted, "Hey, you wretch, get over here!"

Max tried to ignore him, but Michael closed the gap, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to the center of the room, where everyone was dancing. "I want to celebrate a little differently tonight," Michael said, his voice dripping with malice. He looked around at the crowd with a sly grin. "No traditional cake tonight. Instead, we've got a special surprise."

Raising his glass, Michael called out loudly, "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Max, our loyal waiter, who also happens to be... the birthday girl's dance partner for the evening!" The room erupted in laughter, while Max felt shame rising like fire through his veins.

Before he could react, Michael shoved him toward the center of the room, where the birthday girl stood surrounded by her friends. "I'm sure you'll give us a memorable performance, won't you?" Michael said mockingly.

Before Max could process what was happening, the music shifted to a fast, pounding rhythm. The guests began clapping in time with the beat, all eyes fixed on him. "Dance!" Michael commanded, as the laughter around them grew louder.

Max stood frozen, his face burning with embarrassment. Before he could move, one of Michael's friends pushed him from behind, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. The room filled with jeers and mocking laughter.

"Is that your idea of dancing?" Michael taunted, standing over Max with a mocking grin as he pressed his foot against him. "Maybe we need to teach you some new moves!"

Suddenly, one of the guests pulled out their phone and began recording the scene. Another guest approached Max and poured cold water over his head. "Now dance properly!" someone yelled.

Shivering from the icy water and the humiliation, Max struggled to his feet. His body trembled, and his clothes clung to him, soaked through. But there was no escaping the eyes of the crowd, all watching, laughing, and waiting for him to break further.