"I never considered myself the most attractive or the most popular boy when I was a kid. In fact, I was lucky if a girl would talk to me and ask me out on a date. They all always wanted to be my friends or were just dates planned by my sisters... Since I lost my sight, they tell me I've become handsome, but I don't gloat about it. What's the point if I can't see myself? The point is that either in my childhood, when I was a loser, or now that I'm blind to confirm what they say about my appearance, I never felt like that. It's not a hit on my pride like the stereotype of a guy who thinks handsomeness is worth all his feet, and if he doesn't get it, he gets depressed or crazy and plots revenge on a socially complex narcissist. Or like when I was a kid, I just got rejected and felt like a failure... This... This really hurts so much here." Lincoln put his hand on his chest. "Why, Dad? This has happened to me before. But why does it hurt so much now?" Lincoln started to cry. For the first time in three years, his eyes filled with tears. "Dad... I... I... I'm crying. I can't see... but... I feel the tears."
Mr. Loud hugs his son and begins to cry next to him. "Listen to me, son. You are a very sweet, sensitive, and affectionate boy. You are a great catch, and whoever that girl rejected you is, she loses it."
Lincoln hugs his father. "Thanks, Dad."
"I love you, son."
"I love you, Dad."
Mr. Loud wiped his son's tears with a handkerchief. "Cheer up, champion. How about we cook a feast that will make Gordon Ramsay green with envy?"
"Wasn't that your high school classmate you always talked about who always beat you in cooking competitions?"
"I didn't always win. Sometimes I lost because they kicked me out of the competition. I know it was his fault!"
"Sure, Dad… and the fact that you always come in and bang your cowbell like crazy has nothing to do with it."
"This is called 'You Have an Entrance Song,' Lincoln. These judges didn't have good taste, neither for cooking nor for music."
"It's true, Dad; it's true."
Lincoln pats his father on the back. He was in a good mood again. He could even train, but now he has another commitment. So both men started cooking. What they didn't know was that someone was listening to them.
On the other side of the door was Leni. The seamstress girl felt the same way as Lincoln. She was crying too. "Linky... forgive me... but it's better that you don't love me anymore. I don't want you to put yourself in danger because of me."
Back with the Loud men.
Lincoln and Mr. Loud were unstoppable in the kitchen. Together, they prepared up to twelve different dishes. Thanks to the remodeled kitchen, the range held up to eight pots and pans.
"Phew. This was really hard work," Mr. Loud said, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Considering all the guests who will be attending the party, I think we are remiss, Dad."
"I hope not, son. Well, from now on, I'll take care of it. Go rest."
"Thanks, Dad," Lincoln left the kitchen when his cell phone rang. The boy left the house so that he could answer and so that his family would not hear him. "Hello, Professor. What can I do for you?"
"Lincoln. There's been a slight change in plans."
"What do you mean by slight? Aren't I going to fight anymore?"
"Of course, you will fight. But not with the competitor you had in the beginning. The original agreement was for exploration rights in a certain area where there was a lot of platinum. The original company you were going to fight wanted the rights to the land, but now there is a third party that wants it. A Russian company, a multinational called Petrovic Mining, The limousine will pick you up in the afternoon." Venomos ends the call.
"Damn it. I said that on the day of the battle that I had already scheduled, I would have already overcome my depression. But now I have to go to one today? Fuck... Oh my God... since when have I said so many rude things? "
Meanwhile, in Lucy's room.
The house goth was lying on her bed, talking on her cell phone with her friend Haiku.
"No, Haiku. I won't forget the annual ritual."
"Yes, I will be there."
"I'll get the blood pudding."
"No, it won't be like last year with the jet black sails."
"Yes, yes, I understand. Not jet black, not charcoal black. Not raven black. Night black."
"No, last year was Voris's fault. I told him we had to go the long way, but he wanted to get there sooner rather than later, and we took the short route."
"I don't have anything against his look. Quite the opposite. I like his look. But if you were like him and you were chasing an 11-year-old girl down a dark street in the middle of the night, heading to the cemetery, some nosy with bad intentions would call the police."
"What if I already have a candidate to join the club? Well... I have someone in mind."
Lucy pulls one of Lincoln's shirts from under her pillow and begins to sniff.
"I will ask if he is interested in joining and if he can attend. I will propose that he be accepted at the meeting tonight and put to a vote."