Fero arrived at a shopping mall dressed in extremely plain clothes. He wore a simple T-shirt, a pair of faded pants, and shoes that looked like they had been worn for years. Among shoppers dressed neatly and carrying branded goods, Fero stood out sharply, but he didn't care in the slightest.
Fero walked toward an old car parked some distance from the entrance. Its paint had lost its shine, and several parts of the body were covered in scratches, but the interior was still fairly well maintained, especially the spacious trunk. He opened it and began loading the boxes he had been carrying from inside the mall.
"Don't let this one get crushed." Fero moved the box of toys to the very top, then placed several bags of clothes and snacks on the other side. After making sure everything was arranged properly, he checked the trunk once more. "Looks like that's enough."
Fero closed the trunk and was about to get into the car. At the same time, two female college students had just walked out of the mall. One of them was Vina, Fero's classmate, who stopped in her tracks when she recognized him.
"Vina, why'd you stop?" her friend asked.
"That's Fero, right?" Vina pointed toward the old car in front of them.
Her friend watched for a moment before nodding. "I think so. What is he doing?"
"How should I know?" Vina looked at Fero again. Her eyes then settled on the old car and the boxes filling its trunk. "Look at that. His car is a wreck, he's carrying nothing but boxes, and he's handling everything by himself. Have you ever seen him carrying anything expensive?"
Her friend thought for a moment. "I don't think so."
"Exactly." Vina seemed to have found the explanation she had been looking for all along. "Fero is so quiet in class. He never hangs out with us or talks about his family. Just look at him now. If he's not poor, why would he go to all this trouble to haul so many boxes by himself?"
"But they could just be his own things."
Vina immediately shook her head. "That many things? What would he need them for? Maybe he really does work part-time hauling goods. No wonder he always looks like that."
Her friend began to look doubtful. "But he's a student at our college."
"Are students not allowed to work?" Vina shrugged. "I'm just saying it's a possibility."
Though she claimed she was only speculating, Vina herself was beginning to believe her conclusion. Everything she knew about Fero seemed to support it.
"Take a picture," Vina said as she pulled out her phone.
Click.
She managed to snap a picture just as Fero opened the car door. He didn't notice at all. Vina looked at the photo for a few seconds, then opened the student group chat.
"Guys, you know Fero from our class? I just saw him hauling boxes by himself at the mall. His car is ancient too. Maybe he works part-time as a delivery guy."
The message immediately drew responses.
"Seriously? Fero, the guy who's always alone?"
"The one who barely talks to anyone?"
"His car is really old, huh."
Vina quickly sent the photo she had just taken.
"Yep, that's him. I've suspected it for a while. I've never seen him use anything nice."
More comments began appearing.
"So he's actually poor?"
"No wonder he never hangs out with us."
"Maybe he can barely afford his tuition."
"If he can't afford it, why does he go here?"
Vina read all the comments without stopping the conversation. She even sent another photo showing Fero standing beside his old car with the trunk open and packed full of boxes.
"Do you guys think he really works hauling goods?"
"Looks like it."
"That's kind of sad."
"What's so sad about it? We never asked him to be friends with us."
"Exactly. He better not be using the college's name to get sympathy."
The conversation grew busier. Some students began making Fero the butt of their jokes, while others deliberately called him the "poor student" and the "delivery guy." The photo then spread to several other groups, and more and more students heard the story without ever asking Fero directly.
Not everyone truly believed that Fero worked hauling goods. However, since almost no one knew anything about his personal life, most of them chose to believe the rumor that had already spread.
"If he didn't need the money, why would he drive a car like that?"
"He never goes to campus events either."
"Maybe his family has nothing."
"Then he should know his place."
The bullying continued to grow without Fero's knowledge. The young man everyone was talking about had left the mall some time ago and had no idea that his photo was circulating among the students.
Fero never opened the campus forum or followed the students' conversations. After class, he usually left immediately to take care of his own business. To him, college life was simply part of a routine he had to follow, not a place to seek recognition.
He had never felt the need to explain his family's circumstances to anyone, either. If a student didn't want to be his friend, Fero never forced the issue. Most of the students at his college came from well-off families, but Fero had never tried to join their circles.
After leaving the mall, Fero drove his old car to an orphanage. The farther he got from downtown, the fewer high-rises there were, and the quieter the streets became. A short while later, the car stopped in front of a modest orphanage.
As soon as Fero got out, several children who had been playing ran over to him.
"Fero!"
"Fero's here!"
"What's in the car?"
Fero smiled at their excitement. "Easy. Don't push each other. There's enough for everyone."
One of the children pointed toward the trunk. "Did you bring food?"
"I did."
"Toys too?"
"Those too."
The children immediately cheered and ran circles around him. Not long afterward, the orphanage director came out of the building and greeted Fero with a delighted expression.
"You came again."
"Yes, ma'am." Fero nodded. "I brought clothes, snacks, and some toys."
The director sighed. "You brought too much."
"There are a lot of children here too." Fero opened the trunk, and several caretakers quickly helped carry the items inside.
Fero usually came at least once a month. Besides bringing the children what they needed, he always made time to talk with them. However, among the children who came to greet him, one little girl was standing alone near the door.
Nayla.
The five-year-old girl clutched the hem of her shirt tightly. Her eyes were slightly swollen, and her face looked gloomy, as if she had just been crying. Fero immediately went over and crouched down so they were at eye level.
"Nayla."
The little girl looked up. As soon as she saw Fero, she ran over and hugged him tightly without saying a word. Fero let her, gently rubbing her back.
"What's wrong? Did someone make you sad?"
Nayla shook her head without letting go.
"You still don't want to tell me?"
The little girl shook her head again. Her arms only tightened around him.
Fero didn't force her. He sat on the porch step and let Nayla remain beside him until her sobs gradually subsided. From a distance, the director watched them before finally walking over.
"Nayla is always calmest when you're here," she said.
Fero looked up. "She's been crying again?"
"Almost every night for the past few days."
"Why didn't you call me?"
"You have classes. I didn't want to bother you."
Fero shook his head. "If Nayla has a problem, just call me. I'll come."
The director gave him a small smile. She had known Fero for quite some time and knew that he never refused when the children needed his help.
Once all the items had been carried inside and Nayla began playing with the other children, Fero took a thick envelope from his bag. He handed it to the director.
"This is for the orphanage too."
The director accepted the envelope. As soon as she felt how thick it was, her hand stopped.
"Fero..."
"Please take care of it as usual."
"This is too much."
"Use it for the children's needs."
"You don't have to give this much every month."
Fero shook his head. "I can usually only come once a month. At the very least, I want to make sure they have everything they need while I'm away."
The director was still clutching the envelope. She looked at it for a moment, then watched Fero walk back into the yard and sit with the children.
"All right," she said at last.
Fero merely nodded. He then helped one of the children open a toy box while the others busily showed off what they had received.
Amid the children's laughter, Fero's phone suddenly rang.
Fero took the phone from his pocket. As soon as he saw the name on the screen, the smile slowly faded from his face.
"Why is she calling?"