"Hello, who is it?"

His voice sounds tired. Regardless, a surge of warmth rises inside my chest. I take a deep breath and clear my throat. "Edgar, it's me."

Silence.

"Hello? Ed-"

"Cedar?!" he screams, and I instinctively move the telephone receiver away from my ear. When I bring it back, I hear him saying, "–you? It's really you?"

"Uh, yeah, it's me . . ."

"Tha- Wha- I-" A pause. This is so weird. I expected him to mutter a series of extremely creative curses right after hearing my voice, but he sounds way too shocked to do that. "It's really you?" he asks again.

"Edgar? Are you really that shocked? It's me, Cedar Lockwood. The nerd. Horrendous Remake of Squidward. Do you believe me now?"

"Holy fuck," he says. At least that sounds normal. But then he asks something I never expected him to ask. "Dude, are you okay? Are you, like, hurt somewhere? What the fu- you're not in a hospital or something, right? Fuck," he lowers his voice, "did you get kidnapped?"

"What?" I frown. "Dude, pessimism is my character trait. Stick to your role."

"For fuck's sake, are you okay or not?!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay. God. And no, I'm not in a hospital, nor have I been kidnapped. I'm totally fine. Calm down."

I hear a long, loud sigh of relief on the other hand. I can't help but smile. The bastard really was that worried about me.

"You were supposed to call me three days ago. What the fuck happened? Do you know how worried I was? And over here Lexi kept spilling her oracle prophecies saying she has a bad feeling about you right after the last phonecall. She was especially fidgety yesterday. What the fuck happened?"

"Eh? Really?" This is quite strange. After all, it was soon after that phonecall that I got lost in the forest. And yesterday is the day I was only a minute away from my death. How did Lexi . . .?

"Hello? You there?"

"Ah, yeah, um. Actually, something bad did happen yesterday."

"What? What happened?" His voice holds mild fear.

"I, uh, I fell from a 20ft cliff."

Once again, silence.

"But don't worry, I'm fi-"

At that moment, I hear the loudest wheeze ever, as if Edgar is spilling his lungs out through his nose. Then he bursts into a hysteric fit of laughter, to the point I hear his phone drop to the ground. I am so baffled that I feel my jaw hang open. He continues laughing like a madman for the next few seconds, then says, "Jesus-", then laughs some more, takes a deep breath, then laughs again.

"Edgar, I almost died!" I say with utter dismay.

"This is so funny! Just the image of your scrawny ass falling down a cliff is so fucking funny!" Then I hear him say, "Hey, second child! Guess what? The rich bastard fell from a god-damned cliff!"

In a distance, I hear brother Eden burst into a fit of laughter that sounds way too identical to Edgar's, and I'm even more baffled. In between laughs, he says, "Holy fuck, he fell from a cliff?  Hey, dad! Did you hear that shit? Middle child's rich-ass friend fell from a fucking cliff."

In a farther distance, I hear another burst of laughter, this one deeper to prove that it is indeed Mr. Conway laughing. What the hell is wrong with this family's sense of humor?!

"I can't believe this shit," I tell him, "I was dying, Edgar. I literally passed out for 5 hours after being rescued."

"But you didn't die and somehow that's even more funny!" More chortles erupt from the other end of the receiver. I shake my head with a sigh. All the energy I got back from my beekeeping adventures earlier has totally disappeared within 2 minutes.

"You don't know what you've got until you've lost it," I say, pretending I'm mad.

"Alright, cut the bullshit, Aristotle. Anyways, are you okay now?"

"Anyways?"

"I said, are you okay or not?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I can't help but roll my eyes.

"But what the fuck happened, dude? Like how the hell did you go up a cliff, how did you fall, who rescued you- like what the hell is happening over there?"

It just dawned on him that the whole situation is very absurd? I can't believe this. Regardless, I explain the whole thing to him starting from the time my phone got stolen and I got lost in the forest, carefully keeping out the name of the town and my dead companion. He listens quietly, occasionally inputting some "Woah" and "The fuck" here and there.

After I finish, he says, "Wow." A pause. "I'm not even the slightest bit surprised that your phone and money got stolen. Makes total sense, man, makes total sense. But like, to be honest, if someone else was saying all these to me, I would've never believed everything you said is true. There's no way real life can be that adventurous."

Yeah, that's kinda the point. But I say, "You'd be surprised."

"Wow, this is crazy. Like, seriously, you're having lots of fun, aren't you?"

Thinking about everything's that going on right now, I sigh. "It would seem like so to a second person."

"Why? Did something else happened?"

"Forget it. So that day, I was supposed to call you later because you had something to tell me. What was it?"

"Ah, that . . ." I hear him click his tongue. "Are you busy right now?"

"Not at all." After I had dinner at an awfully early hour of 9pm, I requested Aunt Sayra to let me use the telephone to talk with my friend. I told her that it might take a long time as my friend is a chatterbox, and she laughed and said I can talk for as long as I want. She only told me to go to sleep in time so that I can have a good night's sleep and feel better tomorrow.

"Okay, so . . ." He pauses, perhaps arranging his thoughts. "I've been thinking a lot about . . . stuff these days. You know, we're at that age. We have to suddenly start thinking about the future very seriously right?"

"Yeah." Even Edgar is thinking, and here I am, always postponing it when so many things depend on it.

"So I thought. A lot. And, well, I decided that I'm not gonna be telling Lexi about my feelings for her, even if she feels the same. It's of no use at all. Even if we do date now, we will have to break up right after high school graduation, because . . . because I won't be going to university. I will start working seriously right after graduation." 

Brows furrowed, I raise my hand in a stop gesture, though he can't see it. "Wait wait wait, hold on a sec. You're going too fast here. What do you mean you're not gonna tell her? There are few people in this world who get the privilege of having their feelings reciprocated. You're gonna let it go like that?"

"Oh my God, dude. Let me fucking explain? This is real life, not a Wattpad love story."

"I know, but . . ."

"Exactly." He sighs. "Look, I didn't tell you anything about this 'cause you already had a lot on your plate. So . . ."

I listen to him explain. In short, things aren't going well between his sister and her in-laws because they are extremely old-fashioned, don't want her to do jobs, and are pestering her for a baby. Her husband is a really nice guy and genuinely loves her, but he can't go against his parents. A lot of other problems mashed up, now things are potentially heading towards a divorce. But since the only reason why the Conways have been living well the past year is because the husband generously gives them financial support, a divorce would mean going back to square one.

"So yeah," Edgar continues, "on one hand, we won't be able to afford my university fees, and on the other, I need to start earning properly. Or we won't be able to afford sending Edith and Eve to school properly. My grandparents need a lot of money for their medicines. Right now, I don't care about anyone but my family."

I feel a deep exasperation gripping my limbs, along with a sense of sadness. This is so unfair. I decide to try and say, "Edgar, I told you before that if you have a university degree you'll get way better jobs and earn a lot more than you ever will with a high school diploma."

"I know that. But we need the money now. I can't let Edith and Eve's childhoods get ruined, I can't let them grow up in malnutrition and with diseases we can't afford to treat. Eve . . . she is two, man. She doesn't deserve this."

"You don't deserve this either," I further argue, "Edgar, you don't realize this, but you have a good brain. A great brain, in fact. I tutored you for two hours and you got a B in Physics. That's crazy. You have the names and traits of hundreds of phobias memorized. Imagine if you become a Psychiatrist? You can memorize hundreds of medicines easily. You have so much potential, Edgar. You can't let it go to waste."

After a short silence, he says, "Wow, thanks man. Didn't expect to hear praises from you. But this was never about what I deserve. This is about what I have to do for my family. My fate was written the moment I was born in a poor family. There's nothing I can do about that. And yeah, the only subject I can probably do well in is Psychology. But I don't have enough empathy or understanding towards others to become a psychologist. As for psychiatry, I would have to go to med school, which means more money. Hell fucking no. Instead, if I start doing two part time jobs from now, and then try to get a decent low-pay job after graduation, that would be enough contribution to the family income."

"That-" I bring my legs down the chair and begin to tap my foot on the ground. I have no arguments left, because this is indeed the only path he has. At least, until some miracle happens. But how often do miracles happen? In the end, I ask, "How will you do two part time jobs? You can't work after 7 pm."

I hear a chuckle on the other side. "Dude, did you forget I'm turning 18 next month? I will be an adult. And then I can work after 7 pm. Crazy, right? Just a few months ago, we had nothing to worry about, and the future was like a country on the other side of the sea. And now? We're all suddenly supposed to grow the fuck up and be responsible adults. And all our dreams . . . pushed under the rug."

My heart clenches hearing him talk like this. I don't think it would have hurt so much if the same words came from someone else, but it hurts hearing them from Edgar, who always comes across as an immature guy. It's so painfully unfair how so many dreams get buried under the ground simply because of poverty, so much talent wasted, so much potential lost, so much happiness unattained.

"Are you sure about this, Edgar?"

He doesn't reply for a while. When he does, I hear a slight strain in his voice. "Doesn't matter anyway, Cedar. It's not like I have a choice."

"If you did, would you choose this?"

"I would choose it any day for my family."

I feel a lump growing inside my throat, and I know, the reason isn't only the unfairness of it all. I find myself wondering how it feels to have so much love for your family that you will let go of everything for them. Will I have done the same, despite everything my family has caused me to go through?

I clear my throat, then ask, "What about brother Eden? Is he doing a job?"

"Yep, a small part time job. He's also a high school graduate so he can't get good jobs. And he's impatient so he gets fired often. Sis also couldn't complete university. So we're all stuck doing low jobs. The vicious cycle of poverty, as they say. Here in this side of the world, Cedar, what goes around always comes around. But I want to make sure this cycle breaks, that Edith and Eve both get to pursue higher education in whatever they love doing. And one day, get high-paying jobs. Become successful. If I live to see that day, I really don't want anything else."

I don't think that's entirely true, but I don't say it. I find myself at a loss of what to say at all.

"Hey, c'mon man," Edgar says, "I thought you were gonna be like, Oh wow Edgar that's such a matured decision take, I'm proud of you dude. But you're just discouraging me!"

"You . . . you don't have to think of such grown-up stuff right now, Edgar. You're only 17. 18, whatever. It's just- you sound like an adult making adult decisions, but you don't have to do that now . . ."

"But I do, Cedar. You don't understand, you never will. And I'm not blaming you for that. I just mean that it will always be hard for you to comprehend just how fucking poor we are. There's no time for me to be a child anymore. I have to grow up and take grown-up decisions. I don't-" His voice cracks, and I wonder if he's on the verge of tears. My heart shatters at the thought, the edge of my eyes getting wet. "I don't have a choice. When you're poor, you never have a choice."

I take a deep breath. I almost find myself wishing I called him another day, because this really is getting a lot for me to handle. But that too is a selfish thought, and I don't know why I always keep thinking about myself. Shaking my head, I say, "I still don't see what that's got to do with Alex."

"What do you mean, dude? I have nothing to give her. She will go to university, she will have a good life. I will go work in some shabby restaurant, living in poverty forever. Do you see where I'm going with this? Yeah but like, a part of me does hope that things will get to a better position in the future. If that happens, maybe I'll tell her, if she's still single."

"Why not just tell her now? Talk to her, tell her to wait and give you time. If she loves you, she will be willing to wait for you. You told me that."

"You fucking dumbass!" He lets out a laugh. "Why will I hold her back like this? She might get over me and find someone else in the future. She deserves happiness. If I tell her to wait, she will feel restricted."

"You deserve happiness too . . ."

"As I said, it's not about what I deserve, and it never will be, man. I've thoughts things through. If you took some time to do that, you'd see where I'm coming from. You're way mature than me. This is the future I have to chase, Cedar. And I wanted to let you know, 'cause- 'cause, well, I don't know."

"'Cause you love me," I say to lighten the mood.

He makes a vomiting sound. "Ew, fuck off." Both of us laugh a little at that. After a while he says, "Now will you tell me what's going on with you? Like dude, you sound hella drained and kinda on the edge. Obviously something happened."

A part of me wants to spill everything but the other part knows I can't. There's a limit to how much he will believe what I say. "It's nothing particular. It's just a lot of stuff happened the past few days and I'm drained. I just need a few days of break and I'll be fine."

"Hmm, makes sense. Well, the real world isn't supposed to be fucking easy, dude. I warned you."

"Yeah you did." I laugh. I'm glad he believed me. "How are things at school?"

"The same, pretty much. Some teachers asked about you, and the whole class collectively looked at me every single fucking time. And I had to lie and say you had to go on an urgent trip to the countryside with your family. I hate it here."

"Well, thanks, I guess?"

"Ungrateful bastard."

"I literally just said thanks."

"Pfft."

I lean back against the chair. My butt is starting to hurt. I wonder how long it's been since we've been talking. "Anything else going on?" I ask.

"Why don't you come back and see for yourself, nerd?"

"Edgar."

"Fine. Well . . . yeah, not that it concerns you much but you remember George?"

"Can't forget even if I try," I say rather distastefully. The memory of that day still haunts me.

"Yeah. He's in the same rehab center where my bro goes for his NA meetings. Apparently he's coming out for a day."

I frown. "Didn't he get in just a few days ago?"

"Yep, I guess he has something urgent to attend? I don't know. I'm kinda worried he will contact his drug dealer as soon as he comes out."

I bring my legs back up the chair and hug them with one hand, the other holding the receiver. "You know, I noticed this last time as well. I don't get it, why are you always worried about George? Like I'm not saying you're selfish or something. But I still feel like you worry about him more than normal."

"Ah fuck, is it that obvious?"

"Dude . . . don't tell me you like him or something."

"Dude! Even if I wasn't straight as fuck I'd have better standards in men, for God's sake." I hear him exhale. "The thing is . . . I didn't tell you this before, but . . . remember my childhood bestie? The guy who stepped on me after finding out I'm intersex?"

Shocked, I ask, "That was George?" Shit, now I get it. How come I didn't realize before? No wonder he knew about Edgar's intersexuality. No wonder Edgar was so worried about him doing drugs. That day when George called me "Dawn-centered" freak, Edgar only said a single sentence to him and he stopped. And from what I know of George Presley a.k.a. the stereotypical bully, he doesn't stop just because someone tells him to.

He definitely still has a soft spot for Edgar like Edgar has for him.

"Hell yeah," Edgar says. "With some weird twist of fate, he ended up transferring to the exact school as me. I kinda recognized him immediately and he only recognized me after my name was called at class. As much as I fucking hate to admit this, a part of me still cares for him. Because my best childhood memories are with him, and no one else."

"But your worse childhood memory is also with him. And one of your worst teenage memories too, now."

"Yep, I know. But he was a child back then, and he was high now. He could've exposed me if he wanted to back in our freshman year. But he didn't, did he?"

I see his point, and to be honest, I would forgive him for the same reason. But it's just weird coming from Edgar. "Since when are you so forgiving?"

"Dunno, maybe I'm being biased. And it's not even about forgiveness, it's just being rational, you know?"

"I don't know, dude. Last time I checked, you weren't that rational . . ."

"Shut the fuck up." He lets out a grunt. "Anyways, don't make me hate myself more than I already do for still giving a crap about him. Anyways, I'm th-"

"You said 'Anyways' in two consecutive sentences. That's not legal."

"I know, what the fuck are you gonna do about it, huh? Anyways, I'm thirsty as fuck after talking so much, so I'm gonna hang up. Listen, call me every single day however you can. I don't care if your phone got stolen by a sexy girl or something, just call somehow."

"Alright, I'll try. Take ca-"

"Wait. Call me tomorrow at 10 am."

"Hmm? During lunch period? But why? I can just call you at night and talk for longer."

"Just do what I said, bruh. By the way, do you call your parents? Or your brother?"

"Huh? No, I don't. I don't think they care much anyway." If they did, they would've tried calling me at least once by the time my phone got stolen.

"You really think that, huh? You'd be surprised, man."

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Now fuck off. And thanks for listening to me. It's a weight off my chest. Now fuck off."

"You used 'now fu-" The line cuts off. I stare at the receiver for a while, sigh, then put it back on the telephone. I feel a mix of both happiness and sorrow inside me. I look at the clock in the dining room, striking around half past 10. I've only been talking to Edgar for less than 30 minutes? Felt like we had the talk of a lifetime. Maybe I missed him more than I realized.

I sit back on the chair with another sigh. I was hoping to get a good night's sleep today, but I don't think I will be able to, with how much Edgar has given me to think about. For some reason, I want to cry. Maybe the reason is simply that I'm sad about how fast Edgar had to grow up. It hasn't been too long since we've become friends, but the Edgar who bullied me for rejecting the girl he likes, grew up. Just like that.

I realize that the reason I am rich today is probably, in many ways, because of poor people like the Conways. After all, how much were the labourers who built the ships my father drives today paid? It's a strange and painful thought. I close my eyes and wait for the tears to drop. They don't. I've been wanting to cry since a while now, but I just can't. My eyes fill up several times, but not enough for the tears to break free.

They dry up where they're born, like all the families who have been living in the slums for generations, unable to break free of the vicious cycle of poverty.

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hello my loves 💕

hope you're all doing well. are you liking the fast updates? you'd be surprised at how fast i used to update TWFH back when i had like 1 or 2 readers lmao. i've come so far since then, it's crazy.

i've brought up an important topic in this chapter through Edgar. for those of you—for those of us—who are living in luxury or at least in comfort with no/few worries about money, i want you all to take some time to think about this.

P.S. did this chapter feel too boring or long? It's actually 3.8k words. I'm sorry 😭. If it's too much then I'll break it into two in the future.

thank you so much for reading. next chapter will be a side-story 👀 remember to take care of yourself. if you have the means, please do a lot of charity work, especially during this COVID when a lot of poor people have lost their sources of income. always be kind and respectful to them. chances are, the reason you're rich today, is because of someone who is poor.

— love, Poma