Today is Friday, the day before our rest day. I happily turned the sign from “Closed” to “Open” at the restaurant. I was in a good mood, swaying my hips while dancing to the song playing before the customers came in. There was no one watching, so I enjoyed grooving with the music—footwork and beats following my hand movements. I have been in love with dancing since I was two years old. I’ve followed many dancers around the world, but my very first coach was my mom. I inherited these skills from her, and if she were still here, we would be a happy family, and maybe I could have continued my passion.
The music was at a moderate volume, so I could still hear everything around me. The only thing watching me right now was the CCTV, but I bet the operator wouldn’t give a damn. I always do this whenever I’m in a good mood.
Suddenly, customers came in. I greeted them with a smile and helped them take a seat.
“Good morning, please have a seat,” I greeted warmly.
“Thank you. You seem to be enjoying your day, honey. You’re actually great with your moves!”
The customer exclaimed. She must have seen me dancing earlier, which made me feel a little embarrassed.
“Oh my God, that’s not me! Hahaha!” I laughed out of embarrassment.
“No, dear. You’re actually amazing. Keep it up!”
Those simple words pinched my heart. Like… yes, I am into dancing. Well, I was…
Sometimes I ask myself if I can still dance while surviving my daily life, but I know dancing requires a lot of determination, overtime practice, discipline, and workshops. I don’t have time for that. Instead of doing it, I would rather spend my overtime hours earning money.
“Thank you,” I simply replied.
I took their orders and served them. I knew they were enjoying their time, with the soft ballad music I played creating a calm restaurant vibe.
24 Karat is the name of the restaurant where I work. It has been running for over 32 years. The original owner died due to cardiac arrest and passed his wealth and the business to his son. Now, it is managed by Mr. Donny. He is a businessman, a model, and also a ballerina trainer. Yes, even a strong man can have a passion for things often associated with women.
He has openly said that he prefers ballet more than hip-hop, and his heart is also 50/50. What I mean is, he is attracted to both men and women—a bisexual man in the LGBTQ community. No wonder Mr. Donny is very talented and professional in handling things differently.
As more customers came in, the room almost filled up. There were only five staff members serving at the moment since Stella and Samantha had both been fired. It was so busy that we couldn’t even take a moment to talk to each other.
The only thing I noticed was Mr. Henry, our manager. He seemed depressed. He wasn’t the happy-go-lucky person we usually saw every day. His aura felt heavy, and his shoulders seemed to be dragging down.
Because of the hectic schedule, I hadn’t taken my lunch break yet. Even going to the restroom felt impossible. When the number of customers dropped to about a quarter, I immediately went to the bathroom. The moment I relieved myself, I felt a sense of comfort.
When I went out, I saw Mr. Henry heading upstairs.
The restaurant has three floors. The first floor is for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The second floor is for snacks, tea, and shakes—something ideal for students. The third floor is for party-goers, with drinks, light snacks, and loud music in a soundproof room. Each floor has a separate entrance. Then there’s the rooftop, where you can enjoy the city view—the noise of cars and people passing by below. It’s high, so every step must be careful.
There are also separate restrooms. You can use the indoor ones, or go outside if you want more privacy. That’s when I saw Mr. Henry again. Something felt off, so I followed him. I didn’t mind the busyness anymore—I had a bad feeling.
When I reached the rooftop, I saw him climbing onto the edge… like he was about to jump.
My heart dropped.
“Mr. Henry, no!” I shouted, running toward him.
I grabbed him just in time and pulled him back. I held onto him tightly, refusing to let go.
After I pulled him away, he broke down. He cried like a father who had lost everything—full of pain and anger toward himself. It was the first time I had ever seen a man cry like that in front of me.
He hugged me tightly, like I was his daughter.
Our co-staff arrived shortly after, shocked by what they saw. They rushed up quietly so the customers wouldn’t notice.
“Act like everything is normal, guys,” I told them.
Some of them started crying. Mr. Henry was too kind to deserve this kind of pain. I told them to go back to work. After all, I was the senior staff member—I had to take control.
I looked at Mr. Henry and handed him my handkerchief. It was a gift from Audrey when I turned 18. She had saved money just to buy it for me. It even had a small unicorn design.
Now, I offered it to him.
“I don’t fully understand what you’re going through right now because I’m not in your shoes,” I said gently. “But I feel you. I know you’re hurting. You’re tired. Your heart is heavy. I see it every day—you just don’t show it. I feel you because that’s what I do too. We leave our emotions at home and bring a smile to work.”
He sobbed harder.
“You can cry, Mr. Henry,” I added softly. “It’s okay to let it out.”
He looked at me, wiping his tears.
“My wife…” he said, his voice breaking. “She cheated on me.”
I wasn’t surprised. I already knew.
“I want my children,” he continued. “I don’t know if my family will still be whole, but she chose another man. And now she wants to take the kids. All I want… is my children.”
“Mr. Henry…” I whispered.
“I just need evidence,” he said firmly. “So the court can decide if I’m worthy of having custody of my kids.”
Now I understood everything.
“I’ll help,” I said.
He looked at me in confusion.
“No, it’s not your problem,” he replied. “I just want to disappear.”
“We’ll help you,” I said again. “I know this isn’t easy to hear… but I saw Mrs. Julian with another man. I have a video recording. She wasn’t waiting for you—she was meeting someone else.”
His eyes widened in shock.
“You knew all this time?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Like you said, I didn’t want to interfere with your personal life,” I explained. “I didn’t want to hurt your relationship. But now that you know the truth… it’s time, Mr. Henry. Fight for your children.”
He stood up slowly.
“Thank you,” he said. “For saving me.”
For the first time that day, I saw determination in his eyes.
He asked if we could be witnesses in court.
I smiled. “Of course.”
We went downstairs as if nothing had happened.
Customers greeted him normally.
“Oh, Mr. Henry! Good to see you. I’d like to talk business with you,” one customer said.
He smiled and agreed.
I stepped away and gathered my co-staff. They were still in disbelief. Everyone agreed to support him in court.
We watched him from a distance, talking to customers again—with confidence.
Like a father.
Like a leader.
And like someone who chose to live.
One thing I realized in that moment… it’s okay to stand firm in your decisions. If you know something that can hurt others, sometimes it’s better to keep it—until the right time comes.
Because time…
is the ultimate truth teller.
Mr. Henry is like a father to us. He gave me a feeling I had long missed—a sense of being cared for like a real daughter. When my biological father left us, someone else filled that empty space.
And that’s why…
I will help him get his children back.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.