The Rise of Millwal

Chapter 55: “You are the deceiver!”

Chapter 55: “You are the deceiver!”

Aldrich bit his straw, his eyes fixed on Melanie Chisholm, who was smiling radiantly in the sunlight. Slowly, he released the straw and lightly licked the juice at the corner of his mouth, saying, "Melanie, slander can get you locked up."

Melanie covered her mouth and laughed, "You said it would rain in Manchester today, but I just called a friend there. Aldrich, there's no rain, and it's sunny!"

Aldrich slapped his forehead in frustration, catching a glimpse of Victoria, the young bombshell who was cheerfully chatting on her phone, speaking in a boastful yet slightly ditzy tone, "Guess who I am..."

Turning his attention back to the cunning smile on Melanie's face, Aldrich shrugged and said, "It's only three in the afternoon. Can you really guarantee that it won't rain in Manchester before midnight?"

Melanie shook her head with a smile, "I can't."

Aldrich smirked, "So, you're still slandering me!"

"But I have a feeling you're just a liar! I'm going to expose your lies today!"

With a flourish, Melanie raised her phone, clearly indicating that if it rained in Manchester, she would know.

Aldrich pondered for a moment, then smiled and said, "Got it. I've got a new sidekick today. Let's go!"

He lifted his right elbow slightly, prompting a confused Melanie to ask, "What do you mean?"

"Just look at the people on the street," Aldrich said, nudging his chin toward the bustling Bond Street.

Melanie glanced around and noticed that the street was filled with couples. She sheepishly covered her mouth, took a deep breath, and, with a sense of bravado, faced Aldrich confidently, wrapping her arm around his.

After walking a few steps, Melanie was captivated by a dress in a shop window. However, just as she was about to go in, she noticed the clerk peeking out with a nervous look, quickly shutting the door.

"Do we look like robbers?" Melanie asked, astonished, as her foot was already on the store's threshold.

Aldrich chuckled, pulling her forward. "Probably just a celebrity went in there. That's how things are on Bond Street—if you see a store suddenly close, it means a big star just showed up."

"Oh, I see! Let's go check it out! The shop's window isn't covered up."

"Can't risk that!"

After an hour of window shopping on Bond Street without spending a dime, boredom struck. Melanie tugged Aldrich to a gym in London.

Inside the boxing ring, Aldrich was surprised to see Melanie wearing a sports tank, her fists gloved, staring at him defiantly.

He quickly donned gloves himself, and Melanie playfully jabbed at him, saying, "Mr. Liar, I've heard you're a coach. Show me what you've got."

Though Aldrich didn't have much athletic talent, he kept up with his fitness regimen and was in good shape. He figured Melanie was just playing around, so he indulged her antics. Just watching her in that outfit was enough to keep him entertained.

What he didn't expect was that Melanie had some real experience. She moved with skill, blocking his jabs and showing hints of a boxing pro as they exchanged blows in the corner of the ring, forcing Aldrich to protect his head.

"Hey, Aldrich, is that all you've got?" Melanie taunted, stepping back and spreading her arms, lifting her chin with a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

Aldrich cracked his neck, playfully saying, "What are you talking about? I'm just toying with you. It'd be easy to take you down."

"Yeah, right!"

Melanie threw another punch but was taken aback as Aldrich swiftly ducked, grabbed her waist, and pushed forward. Suddenly, she found herself in mid-air, landing back-first on the ring, with Aldrich on top of her.

"Hey, give me a smile!"

Aldrich looked down at the startled Melanie but noticed her cheeks flushed and her eyes darting away as she exclaimed, "Pervert!"

"Aldrich exclaimed, 'Hey, if I really throw a punch, do you still want to take your shot at debuting? If that pretty face gets messed up, you wouldn't care? I'd feel sorry for you!'"

Melanie shot back, blushing, "Your arm is pressing on my chest! Pervert!"

Only then did Aldrich realize what was happening and jumped up, laughing nervously. "That was totally unintentional! I'm not a complete jerk who would take advantage of a situation like that."

Fuming, Melanie stood up and rushed to change clothes, insisting Aldrich leave with her.

Later in the evening, as the sun set by the Thames, Aldrich and Melanie were seated side by side, facing off against London's famous Taylor Gallery.

"Melanie, feeling a bit tired, asked lazily, 'Do you go there often?'"

"Aldrich scoffed, 'Of course not, and I haven't been there even once. What a joke! How could a vulgar soul like mine appreciate masterpieces of masterful art? But what if I somehow had an epiphany and my soul was elevated by such art? If from then on I started speaking without any profanity, my life would be over. After all, I'm destined to be completely disconnected from elegance for the rest of my life.'"

Melanie rolled her eyes, turning to him. "You really have no shame. It sounds like you're just bragging. Do you think stepping inside will magically transform you into a saint?"

Aldrich replied with a straight face, "Who knows? Only God knows, and I don't believe in Him."

"I don't believe in that either! Come on, let's go inside. If you come out without wings or a halo, I'll knock you down!"

As Melanie started pulling Aldrich toward the Taylor Gallery, he calmly rolled up his sleeves and checked the time. "No chance today; two minutes left, and the gallery is closing. Look, the security guard is already shutting the doors."

Melanie glanced back, and sure enough, the gallery was locked.

She slumped back down, frustrated. "Aldrich, why are you so sneaky?"

"It's a job requirement."

"Aren't you a football coach?"

"Why do you keep doubting my profession?"

"You win. I'm hungry. Let's eat. Since it didn't rain in Manchester, as punishment for your deception, you owe me dinner."

Aldrich gazed at the darkening sky, serious. "But it's still hours until midnight."

"I'm hungry already..."

"Fine, you win. What do you want to eat?"

"Guess."

"Let's wait a bit. Maybe Manchester will rain in an hour."

Melanie pouted, glaring at Aldrich, challenging him. "What I say goes for dinner."

"No, it's what you want to eat that I'll accompany you. If you say you want to eat poop, I'm not that dumb. But if you insist, I'm not going with you."

"Ah! Aldrich, you're disgusting! Let's get Chinese food. Hmph, you probably won't like it; my mom's Chinese cooking is fantastic."

Aldrich was taken aback, turning to her with surprise. "You love Chinese food? Correction: 'cuisine' is what the Japanese say. Authentic Chinese people wouldn't call it Chinese cuisine."

"Huh? Oh, are you scared?"

"Ha, ha, ha, sorry, but you've probably never had the real deal—there are so many variations in Chinese cuisine! Ever heard of the sweet dishes from the south, salty from the north, spicy from the east, and fresh from the west? Mentioning Chinese food in front of me? You're still a rookie."

Melanie's eyes lit up, grabbing Aldrich's arm and smiling brightly. "Looks like you have experience! What a rare find to have a friend with similar tastes. Come on, let's go eat a feast!"

After a day of fun outside, Aldrich returned home that night, taking a shower while listening to the radio news.

He was in a good mood—strolling around with Melanie and having a hearty dinner made him feel light as a feather, even humming a tune in the bath.

"Manchester has had two rain showers today. This weather is expected to last through the weekend. As the Premier League title race heats up, a rainy match at Old Trafford isn't something Coach Ferguson would like to see..."

Aldrich's singing abruptly stopped, and his previously relaxed expression froze.

In the bathroom, his groan echoed, "F-ck! Melanie, you're the biggest liar!"

Meanwhile, in her London apartment, wearing pajamas and lying on her single bed, Melanie hesitated as she hovered her thumb over the call button, staring at the phone number on the screen.

She ultimately shelved the impulse to call, reflecting on the day's events and burrowing into her blankets, her cheeks feeling increasingly warm.