Transported back to age eighteen, I was forced to drop out of school and ended up tightening screws in a factory.In the middle of the noisy factory floor, the owner’s son stood with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked around with a reckless, arrogant smirk. "I'm starting my own tech company," he announced. "Who’s crazy enough to come with me?" Dead silence. Then, one hand went up. Mine. My coworkers said my brain was fried. My cousin laughed at my delusions. My parents screamed that I just needed to shut up and keep screwing bolts for minimum wage. I just smiled. They didn’t know anything. Twenty years later, that arrogant guy would be sitting at the top of the Forbes billionaire list. 1 I was eighteen again, and I had just been handed my expulsion papers. In our cramped living room, my father’s roaring voice was deafening. "Stealing from other students! You’ve completely dragged our family name through the mud!" My mother chimed in, equally furious. "You couldn't just go to school and be normal? Look at your cousin Emily. Thank God she put in a good word for you, or you’d be sitting in a jail cell right now!" The memories of my past life rushed back. I had been framed for theft by a classmate. The teachers didn't care about the truth; they pinned it on me and dragged me to the principal's office. The school was having a crackdown on stealing, and the principal wanted to make an example out of me. He threatened to call the cops. That was when my cousin, Emily Carter, stepped in with tears in her eyes, begging for mercy on my behalf. In the end, the principal let it go—on the condition that I voluntarily withdraw from the school. Back then, I treated Emily like my savior. It wasn't until years later, when I was working a dead-end retail job and ran into an old classmate, that I found out the truth: the entire setup was orchestrated by Emily from the start. Seeing me space out, my dad raised his hand. I didn't dodge. I took the heavy slap straight across the face. My whole body ached. This wasn't the first time they had hit me today. "Pack your bags and get out tomorrow morning!" my dad yelled. "Whether you live or die out there is your own damn problem!" I nodded, silently turning and walking back to my "room." It was barely a room—just a tiny, partitioned closet next to the kitchen. The light was dim. I had zero privacy. Right on the other side of the thin wall was my brother Kyle’s room. He had a massive bed and, a true luxury for a working-class family in the late 90s, a brand-new desktop computer. A birthday gift from our parents. Sitting on my cot, the reality of my rebirth finally washed over me. In my past life, I always thought that if I could just go back in time, I’d fight tooth and nail to prove my innocence and stay in high school. But the damage was already done. Right now, I had no money, no power, and no way to fight back against awful people. But that was fine. School wasn't the only way out. Early the next morning, I left "home." I had one duffel bag and twenty bucks I had scraped together. I hopped on a Greyhound bus heading straight for the industrial side of the city. In my previous life, after I was expelled, I was weak and defeated. My parents beat me and berated me daily until they got sick of looking at me and found me a job. Emily’s mother, my Aunt Susan, worked as an accountant at a local manufacturing plant. She dragged me in to be a factory girl, screwing bolts on the assembly line all day with room and board included. That soul-crushing, repetitive, dirt-cheap labor stole four years of my youth. This time, I didn't wait for her introduction. I went straight to the factory myself. Following behind the floor manager, I pulled on a pair of work gloves, grabbed my tools, and walked onto the familiar, deafening assembly floor. Because in this life, I had a very specific target. "Damn it, who the hell stepped on me?!" The low, annoyed growl made me jump. I quickly pulled my foot back. I had left a dusty boot print right on top of a perfectly shined leather shoe. I followed the shoe up to the face, and my breath hitched. The young man had frosted blonde tips, a dragon tattoo winding down his forearm, and a furious scowl on his face. He looked like a thug. But I wasn't scared. I had seen him in financial magazines, wearing tailored suits, his eyes sharp and his smile warm. The contrast with the guy standing in front of me was jarring. "Boss," the manager said, turning to me nervously. "She's new... apologize, now!" I looked right into his eyes. "Sorry." He stared back. After a few seconds of dead silence, he asked, "You aren't scared of me?" I shook my head. "Interesting." Caleb Vance ran his tongue over his teeth. "Little factory girl, you'd do well to stay out of my way." He turned on his heel to leave. "I'm not a factory girl," I called out to his arrogant back. "My name is Chloe." 2 Working the line was brutal. Two days in, I had three massive blisters on my hands. Worse, Aunt Susan spotted me. She put on a fake, overly warm smile. "Well, look who it is! Your parents didn't even tell me you came down here. You should have said something, sweetie, I could have found you a decent position." I sneered internally. Wasn't this the exact "decent position" you threw me into in my last life? But I kept my face blank. "I wouldn't want to bother you, Aunt Susan. We can catch up later." I didn't expect to see Emily the very next day. "Chloe! Where have you been hiding? I was so worried about you." She grabbed my hands. Her fake sincerity was even more polished than her mother's. I really couldn't blame my past self for not seeing through her. "Screwing bolts," I said flatly. "Oh, I really don't know much about that... I just came to share some good news! I scored in the top thirty on the state mock exams. My guidance counselor says if I keep this up, I'm guaranteed a spot at a top-tier university!" She came all the way to the factory just to rub this in my face. How "sweet." "Is that so?" I smiled faintly. "Have you figured out your major yet? If you pick the wrong one, even a fancy degree won't get you a good job." Emily bristled. "That's impossible!" "Why is it impossible?" I shot back. "Look at Mr. Henderson from our neighborhood. He went to a big state school, and now he’s running a dusty corner store. Who knows, maybe you'll end up—" "It's still better than being a factory rat!" Wow, the mask slipped fast. Her face turned ugly. She paused, threw down a sharp "I have to go," and spun around to storm off. "Damn it!" That familiar low growl echoed. I looked up to see Emily had crashed right into someone's chest. She stumbled back. "S-sorry..." Caleb stood there, looking absolutely murderous. Emily squeaked in terror and practically jogged away. Caleb crossed his arms, tilting his head to look at me. "You know about college majors?" "A little." He seemed amused. "Alright then. What major guarantees a good job?" "Computer Science." It was the late 90s. The internet boom was just a faint rumble in the distance, but Caleb would be diving into the tech world very soon. His eyes lit up. But he quickly masked it with a lazy smirk. "The little factory girl has some vision." I looked at him squarely. "My name is Chloe." He chuckled. The fierce, thuggish aura melted away instantly, leaving something much softer. "Got it, little factory girl." He stared at me, his eyes brimming with amusement. He was definitely teasing me. Suddenly, he reached out and flicked me right on the forehead. "I'm Caleb." 3 After that, whenever I had free time, I found myself looking for Caleb around the plant. I vaguely remembered from my past life that Caleb had left the factory to start a business not long after I arrived. He had tried to recruit from the floor, but because he looked like a gangster and acted like a slacker, nobody wanted to follow him. But I knew that the handful of outsiders he eventually hired ended up incredibly wealthy. Reborn, I didn't care about becoming a billionaire. I just wanted to catch the wind of the era so I wouldn't have to scrape by in my middle age. After watching him, I realized Caleb wasn't the deadbeat he pretended to be. Most of the time, he was sitting in front of a heavy CRT monitor, reading thick books and typing lines of code. The factory workers didn't know anything about computers; they all assumed he was playing video games. People loved to gossip with me. "Don't let Caleb's attitude fool you. He acts tough, but when his older brother comes back from studying abroad, Marcus is taking over the company. Caleb will be left with nothing." It was true. Caleb had an older brother. In my past life, everyone—myself included—thought Caleb was going to end up a tragic washout. But I knew better now. "No," I argued back. "He’s going to be untouchable." One night after my shift, I intentionally dragged my feet, taking the long way around past Caleb's office. The light was still on. He was typing away. I watched for a moment, then turned to leave. Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind me. "Hey." I froze. In the dim hallway, Caleb was leaning lazily against the wall, head tilted. "The dorms are the other way. You don't need to pass through here." Caught in the act, I panicked. I dropped my gaze, scrambling for an excuse. Caleb walked toward me, stopping when he was dangerously close. I could smell a clean, masculine scent mixed with faint tobacco. I instinctively looked up. His eyes were smiling. His handsome face was relaxed, completely free of the aggression he wore during the day. In the low light, he suddenly leaned down, his lips hovering right next to my ear. "This isn't the first time I've caught you sneaking around, kid," he whispered. His voice was husky, a low vibration in his chest. "Don't tell me you've got a crush on me." 4 I stumbled back. "N-no. I don't." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with mischief. I awkwardly looked away. "I was just curious about what you were doing..." "Is that right?" He stood up straight. "And did you figure it out?" I shook my head. He smiled again. For some reason, he seemed to smile a lot tonight. He jutted his chin toward his office. "Well, I guess I'll be generous. Come on in." I obediently followed him. The monitor was glowing, surrounded by stacks of programming textbooks. "What kind of books are these?" I asked, playing dumb. Honestly, I was genuinely curious. With Caleb's intelligence, he could have easily gone to a top university. There was no reason for him to stay stuck in a factory teaching himself, letting everyone look down on him. He leaned against the desk, picking up one of the books. "If you went to college for Computer Science, this is the stuff they’d make you read." I stared at him. He let out a soft scoff. "You used to be a straight-A student, didn't you?" I blinked, surprised. "Yeah." "So why'd you quit?" I bit my lip. I hadn't planned on hiding it. After a moment of silence, I told him everything—the framing, the expulsion, the betrayal. He didn't get dramatically angry. He didn't demand I go fight for my honor or seek revenge. He just listened quietly. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Then he let out a low, self-deprecating laugh. "When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong." The warm yellow bulb overhead flickered. Caleb leaned by the window, the shadows hiding his expression. I really wanted to say something. Something like, I believe you. Or, When are you starting your company? Can you take me with you? Before I could speak, he crushed his cigarette in an ashtray. The arrogant, reckless aura snapped back into place. "Little factory girl," he said, looking at me. "I'm giving you half the day off tomorrow. You're coming with me." I opened my mouth to correct him about my name, but he cut me off. For the first time, he used my real name. "Chloe." Even though his face looked impatient and awkward, I found it kind of endearing. Even without knowing where we were going, I smiled. "Okay." 5 It was almost lights-out by the time I got back to the dorm. Jessica Miller, the girl on the bottom bunk, suddenly spoke up. "Where were you?" "Just walking around." She was a few years older than me, an assembly line veteran. She had a massive ego and almost never spoke to me. She paused for a few seconds. "Why do I keep seeing you sneaking around the boss's office?" I froze. I refused to give her anything. "You must have seen wrong." "You better hope I did." Jessica snapped her bed curtains shut. After the lights went out, her words echoed in my head. In my past life, I hadn't interacted with her much, so I didn't understand what her problem was until I was drifting off to sleep. Then it hit me. When Caleb's older brother, Marcus, came back from overseas, Jessica wasted no time hooking up with him and moving out of the dorms. Everyone thought she was going to marry him, but even up until I left the factory, they were just messing around. Later, I heard Marcus married a wealthy executive's daughter but kept Jessica on the side. Eventually, the rich wife found out. She forgave her husband, but absolutely destroyed Jessica's life... Thinking of that, I understood why she hated me. She probably thought we were the same kind of people. She saw me as competition for the Vance family fortune. So now, she was taking every opportunity to tear me down. But I didn't feel the need to jump out of bed and defend myself. Caleb was right. When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong. I was going to leave this place soon anyway. My history with these people would end here. I rolled over. The girls on the bottom bunk suddenly went quiet. I sneered internally and closed my eyes. 6 The next day, I only worked a half shift. Caleb must have tipped off the foreman, because the second I asked for leave, he waved me off. I hadn't brought many clothes from home. I stripped off my greasy uniform and threw on a simple cotton dress. Walking out of the factory gates, I spotted Caleb waiting in the distance. He was dressed sharp today—a green bomber jacket, dark jeans, his frosted hair styled. He looked like a movie star. Seeing me, he paused, looking me up and down with a roguish grin. "Well, look at you. Playing the schoolgirl today?" I nervously twisted the hem of my dress. He stomped out his cigarette. "Let's go." We got on a city bus. It was mostly empty. He sat one row behind me, leaning across the aisle. I stared out the window, keeping quiet. About twenty minutes later, Caleb draped his arm over the back of my seat. "Kid." I looked back. He was squinting, wearing that same dangerous look from the hallway last night. "Aren't you going to ask where I'm taking you?" I kept a straight face. "Where are we going?" He leaned closer. I caught the faint smell of tobacco. His husky voice was right next to my ear. "A motel." My brain short-circuited. My first reaction was No way. But then I remembered how unhinged and unpredictable he acted. Would he actually... "We're here." His eyes were crinkling with suppressed laughter. I shot up out of my seat and looked out the window. It was early summer. The breeze rustled through the lush green trees lining the street. We weren't at a motel. We were standing in front of the grand iron gates of the state's most prestigious university. 7 I never expected Caleb to bring me to a college campus. Stepping off the bus, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked forward like he owned the place. The security guard at the gate took one look at him and clearly decided he didn't belong. He stepped in Caleb's way. Caleb casually pulled something out of his pocket. The guard checked it, nodded, and waved him through. Caleb looked back, signaling me to follow. The guard didn't even look at me. "What did you just show him?" I asked. He tossed it to me. "A student ID?" I stared at the plastic card. It had his photo and his name. I was stunned. "You're a student here?!" "Kid, don't be so gullible." He smirked. "I paid a guy ten bucks under an overpass to print that." "..." Fine. Caleb clearly knew his way around. He led me through a maze of pathways and into a massive brick building. Just as he was about to push open a set of double doors, I grabbed his arm. "We're going in there?" He nodded. Seeing my hesitation, he smiled. "Aren't you curious what a real college lecture looks like?" Of course I was. Whether in my past life or this one, I had never set foot inside a university. I took a deep breath and followed him in. College in the 90s wasn't exactly high-tech. The wooden desks, the chalkboards, the faded posters on the walls—it felt vintage. But to me, it was bright, expansive, and brimming with the hopeful energy of youth. No one paid attention to us. Everyone was doing their own thing. It was an atmosphere of open-minded freedom I had never experienced. Even when the professor walked in, I was still stuck in a daze. That was when I noticed Caleb pulling a book out of his bag. It was the exact same textbook the other students had on their desks. The same book he kept in his factory office. So what he was studying every day... was the actual university curriculum? For the next hour, aside from the professor's opening joke, I didn't understand a single word. Caleb, on the other hand, was dead focused. It was a rare look of total seriousness. The sunlight caught the edge of his desk. In that moment, he seemed to be glowing. When class ended, I followed him out. "So..." I couldn't help but ask. "You're just... crashing their classes?" Caleb looked back at me. "Kid, don't make it sound so cheap," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I had to buy a lot of beers to get these guys to let me copy their syllabuses." Honestly, I didn't like it when he called me 'kid'. It made me feel like just another naive girl in his orbit. I lowered my head and walked silently ahead of him. "What's wrong?" He caught up effortlessly, his tone casual. "You don't look too thrilled, ki—" "My name is Chloe." I stopped and looked up at him. He froze. Then, he smiled. He smiled a lot around me, but this was the first time it looked genuine. Not teasing. Not a smirk. Just a real smile. "My mistake." He raised an eyebrow. "So, would you do me the honor of grabbing some dinner?" He paused, his lips curving up. "Chloe." 8 We ate in the city and caught the last bus back to the factory. I knew absolutely nothing about computers, but I shamelessly asked to borrow his textbooks. If he was going to conquer the internet boom, I wanted to build my own value so I could ride the wave with him. Caleb looked amused, tossing me a couple of thick manuals. "These are just the basics, but they're dense. Don't come crying to me when your brain hurts." I rolled my eyes. Whether he was calling me "factory girl" or "kid," this guy still treated me like a child. But regardless, we were getting close. After that, whenever I wasn't on the clock, I found a quiet corner to read, and whenever I had a chance, I used the computer in his office. Even though it was just basic programming, every little step of progress made me incredibly happy. But inevitably, rumors about me and Caleb started spreading through the factory. The first time I heard them was in my own dorm. I had terrible cramps that day and called out sick, lying curled up in my bunk. My roommates came back. Thinking the room was empty, they sat down and started gossiping. The topic bounced around the factory before landing on me. "Has Chloe been spending a lot of time with the boss lately?" someone asked. "A blind man could see it," Jessica Miller scoffed. "I called her out on it and she played dumb." "What's her endgame?" another girl asked. "The factory owner hates him. Once his brother comes back, Caleb is nothing. With that slacker attitude, what kind of future does he have?" Jessica laughed coldly. "Who knows? She probably doesn't know the inside scoop. Just a pathetic girl trying to marry rich." I stared at the ceiling, listening to them tear us down. I didn't jump down and yell at them. Caleb was right. When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong. I’d be leaving this place soon enough. I rolled over, making the mattress creak. The voices below instantly vanished. I smirked in the dark and went back to sleep.
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