Chapter 4: Hell for the Poor

After dinner, the two little ones were watching cartoons in front of the TV, arguing loudly over who the main character was. Their mother, Carmela, sat on the couch with the ledger, calculating the debts. After their cheap father died, he left behind a lot of credit card debt. Every month, they had to pay several bills, or else face the risk of being sued.

Just like the Brown family who used to live next door; after a quarrel, their youngest son hit someone. They couldn't afford a lawyer, so they were assigned one by the court. But the lawyer was useless, and the judge sentenced the son to prison for reform. The family also ended up with a hefty compensation bill.

Most of the prisons in the U.S. are private, and the family couldn't even afford the prison fees. After the son was released, he was burdened with another loan from the prison.

Two loans weighed them down, and when they missed payments, the prison took them to court again.

The evidence was clear, with nothing to argue about, so he went back in again, to the same private prison, with the same loan.

And along with the loan came high interest. The family sold their house and disappeared without a trace.

If things continue this way, the youngest son will likely end up in a cycle of release, repayment, and being sued, over and over again.

Until one day, he might just snap, grab a gun, and start shooting up some place like a madman.

Ethan was shocked when he heard this and realized that America really is a paradise for the rich, and hell for the poor.

This society doesn't talk about conscience, only interests.

So Ethan had to find a way out of this terrible situation as soon as possible.

"Hey, buddy, any updates on what we talked about last time?" Ethan was standing on the balcony, dialing his friends one by one in the cold wind.

"What? The investor pulled out? The movie's dead? Alright, man, hang in there. Let's grab a drink sometime!"

"Jack, long time no talk, how's it going? Any gigs?"

"You're quitting too? Moving to Chicago? What for? Are you planning to join the mafia? Come on, man, you're too scrawny to handle a bullet!"

"Alright, alright, I won't interfere with your decision, but make sure you pay your taxes!"

"Hey, Judy, does your magazine need anyone right now? Lighting, photography, anything."

"You got fired? Why?"

"Just because you insulted a Black person, and now they're calling you a racist? That's crap. You should've told your boss that you identify as male and are a biologically female lesbian!"

"FXXK America!"

After talking to a few old classmates, Donde sighed in frustration. This damn world is tough for everyone.

He graduated from a third-rate university, so naturally, the classmates he knew didn't have much success either. Most of them were busy with drugs and parties, and the few who were trying to be ambitious were now being squeezed by society's political correctness to the point where they couldn't live normally.

On one hand, anti-racism has become an absolute political correctness, and on the other hand, this discrimination is everywhere.

The upper and lower classes are almost like two different species, making America a surrealistic experimental base.

Although Ethan wasn't Black, his mixed white identity was only slightly better, but he still couldn't compete with real whites for many job opportunities.

That's why he had to search for opportunities every day through newspapers, magazines, and phone calls.

Just as he continued to flip through his contacts, a familiar number suddenly called him.

"Jimmy!" Ethan quickly answered the phone. Jimmy was his best friend from school, who studied directing but ended up working as a production assistant in various film crews.

He had told Jimmy before that if there was ever a good job opportunity, to call him right away.

Ethan Listen, buddy, we're gonna make it big! We're gonna make it big!" Jimmy's voice was excited, almost shrill.

Ethan put the phone down until he finished his outburst and then calmly said, "Slow down, don't rush, buddy. Do you want me to go deaf before we hit it big?"

"The opportunity is here! Really..." Jimmy swallowed and finished his sentence, "I've been working with this super amazing assistant director lately, really amazing, and he knows all kinds of Hollywood stars. He really values me, you know? He keeps saying I have potential, just like he did when he was young. We drink together, do drugs together, and it's really awesome! Those chicks are all over me, like they're high or something."

"Get to the point, man!" Ethan was a bit exasperated; this guy was still so long-winded.

"The point is, during one of our drinking sessions, he told me about a rare opportunity!"

Ethan couldn't help but urge, "What kind of opportunity? A movie? Or an ad or something?"

"An ad! Yeah, an ad." Jimmy laughed, "He's directing an outdoor ad for Domino's tomorrow. They're short two people on set! You know, as a good buddy, I thought of you right away!"

"Wow, that sounds good."

"Of course! Ethan, we're really going to make it big!" Jimmy was completely lost in his excitement.

"So what's the job, man?"

"Lighting! Lighting tech!" Jimmy explained.

Donde nodded; he was pretty familiar with that job. After all, a photographer who doesn't know lighting isn't a good director!

"Thanks, Jimmy."

"Hey, no need for that between us. Remember, Ethan, we're good buddies, and good buddies help each other out, right?"

"Exactly. What time tomorrow?"

"Eight in the morning. I'll drive over to pick you up." Jimmy's family was relatively well-off, and he even had a Jeep.

"No problem, see you then."

Ethan hung up the phone. Though the wind was cold, his heart was burning.

He turned back into the house and saw the two little ones jumping on the sofa. Ethan walked over and patted their butts, playing around with them amidst laughter...

The next morning, at dawn.

Ethan had a sandwich made by Carmela in his mouth and walked out of the house wearing a brown jacket.

The morning air was colder than any other time of day. The homeless on the streets had built their homes out of cardboard, still curled up among piles of trash and motionless.

Around here, it might take days before anyone notices if someone dies. After all, there are too many homeless people, and no one cares what happens to them.

Unless the stench of decay bothers someone, or a friend finds them stiff when they come to visit.

And those who come to take away the bodies don't have any sympathy either; they just see them as a nuisance.

"FXXK America," Ethan watched coldly, feeling both a sense of sorrow and an unstoppable drive surging from within.

"Opportunity, I need an opportunity to get out of this terrible life." Ethan sighed, and the next second, he saw a green Jeep speeding toward him from a distance.

After a screeching halt, a familiar face popped out of the car window.

"Hey, Ethan!" It was Jimmy, a typical white boy.

He was wearing a red and white jacket, with blond hair and faint freckles on his face.

Ethan opened the door and got into the passenger seat, smiling as he reached out to shake Jimmy's hand tightly, "Hey, Jimmy!"