I Cut Her Off, the Internet Exploded Chapter 1

Sylvia Raine, the underprivileged college student I have financially supported for seven years, turns around and puts me on the trending topics right after I lose my job and stop sending her money.

She makes a post, crying about how I only supported her because I had ulterior motives and how I maliciously cut off her financial support after she rejected me, driving her to the brink of starvation.

The Internet condemns me as a pervert, and a netizen even shows up at the construction site where I work as a laborer to cause a scene.

Sylvia smugly sends me a voice message. "Wire me 50 grand, or I'll ruin your reputation!"

She assumes I'll pay up to protect my reputation and keep being her long-term ATM.

Instead of calling the cops, I let out a soft chuckle and transfer her a single cent. I casually leave a single sentence in the transfer remark.

Ten minutes later, she starts calling me frantically. I don't answer a single call.

An hour later, the Internet blows up.

* * *

After transferring the last allowance to Sylvia Raine, I had all of 27 dollars left in my bank account.

That night, I was sleeping in one of the temporary prefab cabins at the construction site when my phone suddenly started blowing up.

The first call I received was from Sylvia's mother, Gwen Foster.

I glanced at the time. It was 1:17 am.

The moment I answered, Gwen's shrill voice came through the phone. "What's the meaning of this, Mr. Smith?"

"I told you, this is the last time. I can't support her after this."

Gwen sounded as though she'd just heard a joke. Her voice abruptly rose an octave. "How can you stop whenever you please? You're driving my daughter into a dead end! Are you even human?"

I sat up in bed. Quite a few of my coworkers, who were sleeping nearby, were stirred awake. They turned over and went right back to sleep.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and lowered my voice. "I've already transferred this month's money. I need to keep what's left to pay my rent and buy food."

Gwen's cries ground to a halt. "Sylvia's still in college. She's just a young lady; how is she supposed to survive without any living expenses? Mr. Smith, you've been sponsoring Sylvia since she was in sixth grade!

"What did you promise us back then? You promised you'd support her until she finished college. Now that she's finally made it into college, you're suddenly cutting her off?"

I didn't make a sound.

…

Three months ago, I was still working at a company with a monthly salary of 13 grand. At the time, I transferred 25 hundred dollars to Sylvia every month and bought her clothes and other necessities during the holidays.

25 hundred dollars wasn't much for me then.

However, just last month, the company carried out a round of layoffs. My entire project team was dissolved overnight, without so much as an explanation.

The severance package I received was less than 20 grand. I had to pay for rent, social security, and daily expenses. It wasn't enough to last me very long.

I had thought about hanging in there. Yet, I had to survive first.

…

"Sylvia's already in college, Mrs. Raine. It's time she learned to find a way to support herself."

The other end of the phone went dead silent.

I hung up on her, feeling as though a massive boulder was weighing on my chest.

I grew up in an orphanage, so I was all too aware of what it felt like for a child to have no one to rely on. Volunteers would come to the orphanage on certain days, bringing us schoolbags, stationery, and fruit.

A man named Raymond Scott once gave me a pair of secondhand sneakers. There were still a few mud stains on the uppers that couldn't be washed out.

However, they were the very first pair of sneakers I could call my own. I wore them and ran around all summer.

Before he left, he stroked my head and said, "In the future, when you have the means, lend others a hand, too."

I never forgot those words.

Hence, after I started working, I did not buy a car, nor was I in a rush to buy a house. I saved a portion of my salary every month and regularly donated to several charitable causes.

Sylvia was one of the most special cases. Her father had left home to work and eventually lost contact with them, whereas her mother had spent years working away from home, leaving Sylvia and her grandmother behind.

Sylvia had good grades, and her essay had even won an award in the county. At the end of her profile, it stated that her greatest wish was to study hard and one day leave the small town.

I had only joined the workforce at the time, and my salary wasn't high. I could only send her 500 dollars a month.

After she received the money, she sent me a long message. "Thank you for believing in me, Mr. Scott. I promise I'll study hard and won't let you down!"

I didn't tell her that I, too, had once been a child with no one to look after me. I merely replied. "Study hard, and let me know if you ever run short on money."

Then, she advanced from elementary school to middle school, then on to high school. Every time her test scores improved, she would take a picture of her report card and send it to me.