He despised pretty boys.
The kind who floated through life with nothing but their faces, while men like him — hard working, experienced, elite — were ignored.
He clenched his teeth.
Unable to hold it in any longer, raising his voice, he spoke with thick sarcasm.
"Is this the kind of professionalism I should expect from a top-tier brand like Luviton? Tch tch..."
"Hiring staff who ignore real customers just to drool over some random kid playing dress-up?"
The store suddenly went quiet.
All eyes turned to him, faces shifting from confusion to annoyance.
Salesgirls turned, their smiles fading. Customers exchanged glances, some frowning, others watching in growing amusement.
The salesgirls frowned. They had been nothing but professional—well, mostly—and this outburst was unnecessary. And standing in contrast to Rex’s natural, clean-cut charisma, the man’s appearance only amplified the difference. His presence, frankly, ruined the mood.
Even Rex paused, halfway through examining a blazer.
He turned to look, puzzled by the sudden quiet. He raised an eyebrow as he saw the man glaring at him, arms crossed, radiating disapproval.
Sensing the attention, the man puffed out his chest, assuming the air of someone terribly important. He stepped closer, gave Rex a deliberate once-over, and said loudly... loud enough for everyone to hear.
"Honestly, it’s sad to see a boutique of this caliber fawning over a pretty boy who probably can’t even afford a thing.Let me guess — he’s been saving up for months, working his ass off, just to buy the cheapest T-shirt here, right?" And yet, they ignore a real, paying customer like me."
He gave special emphasis to ass off, sneering with theatrical disdain.
The room froze for a moment.
Then whispers started. Customers rolled their eyes. One or two winced. A few laughed quietly. One woman muttered, "Jealous much?"
Even the staff looked disgusted, especially after witnessing Rex change outfit after outfit like a walking magazine spread.
Rex blinked, caught slightly off guard. He hadn’t expected to get caught in someone else’s tantrum. Pretty boy? That was new. He had been called many things before, but "pretty boy" was definitely first.
In his past life, growing up in rough conditions had given him a more hardened edge. This life, though? It gave him a face that could break hearts — and now, apparently, egos.
He wasn’t sure whether to be insulted... or flattered.
Still, he didn’t feel a tiny bit insulted.
Just... mildly amused.
He glanced at the man again, who was still huffing like a righteous crusader.
He considered responding—but then decided against it. Why bother? Some dogs bark just to hear themselves. Follow current novels on novęlfire.net
Anyway, There was no point in arguing with someone clearly offended by genetics.
One of the senior salesgirls stepped forward, her demeanor calm and composed,a far cry from the earlier giddy enthusiasm. Unlike the younger, more impressionable staff, veterans like her had weathered her fair share of temperamental customers.
She had seen everything from fashion-obsessed influencers demanding exclusive discounts to sugar daddies insisting their "niece" try on every dress in the boutique. Dealing with arrogant peacocks one? Just another regular day.
She knew exactly how to manage arrogant types one without letting emotions interfere.
"Hello, sir. Welcome to Luvita," she greeted smoothly, offering a warm yet professional smile. Her tone was even, calm, and unflinchingly polite. " We sincerely apologize if you felt overlooked. Is there something I can assist you with today? If you have any concerns, I’ll be happy to help to the best of my ability."
She made no mention of the man’s earlier rude remarks, nor did she acknowledge his sarcasm. A less experienced salesperson might have flinched or snapped back. But she simply handled it with grace, like a true professional, treating him as any other valued client.
"Hmph! I want that shirt—the one from last month’s Fashion Week," the man snapped, his voice sharp with impatience. Then, throwing another glance at Rex, he added with a sneer, " Unlike some people who haven’t even heard of top-tier designs like that. Not that someone like him would even know what high fashion is."
Rex, still perusing the rack beside him, didn’t even glance in his direction. The indifference was surgical. His lips twitched slightly—as if amused, not insulted.
The man scoffed, clearly annoyed at being ignored again. He turned to the senior salesgirl as if hoping for a more satisfying audience.
"Of course, sir. This way, please," she responded with a touch of brightness in her tone, as if she hadn’t just heard him insult another customer in her store. Her poise didn’t falter even for a second. She pivoted gracefully and began leading him toward the men’s designer section, her heels clicking lightly across the polished marble floor.
The man puffed up with self-satisfaction, strutting behind her like a peacock on a catwalk. He tossed one last triumphant glance over his shoulder at Rex before disappearing into the distance.
Around them, the onlookers—customers and curious staff alike—began to drift back to their own shopping. The earlier tension faded as quickly as it had flared. Murmurs turned into quiet chuckles, and soon, the store buzzed with normalcy once more.
Only one salesgirl lingered behind. The same girl who had first greeted Rex when he’d walked in.
She approached him hesitantly, hands clasped in front of her, eyes wide with nervous admiration.
"Sir, have you decided which one you’d like to purchase?" she asked, her tone respectful but tinged with something more personal now. "And... thank you for your patience. It’s not every day we get to serve someone so..."
She paused, cheeks reddening, then offered a sheepish smile.
"...so handsome. We may have gotten a little too enthusiastic because of our professional habits."
Rex chuckled softly, offering her a warm, easy smile. "It’s okay. I was also curious to see which styles suited me better. I’d say it was worth it."
The girl’s heart fluttered. Oh no. He’s kind, too?
"Thank you, sir," she said again, bowing slightly. But inside, her heart raced.
She could tell he was being considerate, likely trying to ease their guilt. Changing clothes repeatedly could be tiring, and his patience was rare—even among their wealthiest clientele.
She tried to remain professional, but her mind was spiraling into dangerous territory. Her heart was pounding in her chest, He’s perfect, she thought, cheeks warming. so patient. So composed. And so handsome it hurts... and clearly wealthy enough to shop here casually.
Her imagination, however, had no brakes.
If a guy like him became my boyfriend, I’d trade twenty years of my life without hesitation. No, wait—thirty. Maybe forty if he hugs me once a day.
But someone like him definitely has a girlfriend already. No—he probably has three. One rich, one supermodel, and one childhood sweetheart who he still sends goodnight texts to.
Still, despite the sobering reality, just imagining it made her heart pound and her mind veered into reckless fantasy.
If I could spend even a single night with him... Her cheeks turned scarlet. I’d pay my entire net worth! Even my life.
Ahhh, it’s a shame he’s not a male escort... she inwardly wailed, because that’s the only way someone like her can spend a night with someone this handsome.
If he ever became an escort... I’d spend my entire salary just for a night. Hell, I’d take out a loan. Sell my organs. My house. My neighbor’s dog. Anything.
Meanwhile, oblivious to the inner chaos his existence had triggered, Rex calmly continued browsing the nearest rack of shirts. flipping through shirts with quiet interest. He examined fabric quality, cut, and color, genuinely trying to decide what looked best on him.