Rejected No More: The Genius's Revenge

Chapter 4 4

Word Count: 721 | Released on: 22/01/2026

g was a physical weight, pressing

oving mechanically. Every time the phone

d. Arlis looked up an

ends with him, guys in boat shoes and pastel shirts wh

across his face, oily and satisfied. He walked

h disgust. "Dude, you really dragged

but carrying. "Just watch. This is ca

ng his fingers. "We need a menu. And

s face turning purple. Arlis int

to the table. Kyler looked up at

Hall thing. Don't you think you should focus on... this?" He

him. "What can I

And some advice. Give up. My dad kn

less concerned with my career and more concerned with the audit coming for t

on the table, curled into a fist, bunc

rri

r screamed. It was loud

second, her face draining of color. She

trembling. "It's for you. It'

Even the sizzling of the grill seemed to stop. K

able. He walked to the phone, his step

Arlis Z

ing your inquiry into Protocol 104. We have reviewed the

eld his

terview pool. Your interview is schedul

ike he'd been holding for forty

hone. He turned

tha whispered, cl

lis said. "I go

. Old Mr. Henderson clapped his hands. Frank let

," he spat. "You're just a filler candidate. The inte

ee," Arl

out, his friends trailing behind him lik

droom mirror. He wasn't looking at himself

weakness," he whispe

ticed the hand gestures-open palms, steeple fingers. He rehearsed the

ce she didn't recognize-confident, articulate, filled with words like "fiscal

it on the outside of the closet door, forcing himse

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Rejected No More: The Genius's Revenge

Eydie Pfefferle Modern

“I was sitting in a Starbucks, staring at a cold Americano, while the girl I thought was the love of my life looked at me with pure disgust. Hailee Baxter slammed her latte down and told me we were done, claiming she couldn't start her career at City Hall with a "diner kid" dragging her down. She wasn't just breaking my heart; she was trading me in for Kyler Craft, the son of a powerful politician who could buy her the future she craved. In my past life, this was the moment I shattered, beginning a twenty-year spiral into alcoholism, poverty, and watching my parents work themselves into an early grave while I failed at everything. I vividly remembered the smell of cheap whiskey and the obituary of my father that I was too broke to even attend. But as I looked down at my hands, they weren't the calloused, shaking hands of a forty-year-old failure; they were smooth, young, and steady. The silver Motorola flip phone in my pocket felt like a relic from a museum, and the girl in front of me looked like a shallow stranger rather than the woman of my dreams. The crushing pain in my chest wasn't a heart attack-it was forty years of bitter regret colliding with a twenty-two-year-old body. Hailee was waiting for me to beg for another chance, her napkin ready to wipe away the pathetic tears she expected, but all I felt was a cold, clinical clarity. How could I have been so blind to her greed, and why did I let one failed exam and a rich boy's bullying destroy my entire family's legacy? I glanced at the newspaper on the table: May 12, 2005. This was the day I supposedly lost the City Hall fellowship, but I remembered a secret about the "Supplemental Candidate Protocol" that no one else would know for another week. I stood up, ignored Hailee's insults, and dialed the number etched into my soul. "Mom," I whispered into the flip phone, "I'm coming home. And this time, I'm going to take back everything we lost."”