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He swaggered towards me and grabbed a chair near him. He sat while crossing his leg in front of me and said, "So, Shrimp, I told you to show me your worth. Do something in front of me before I get bored."

…

…

"Wait, are you serious?" I asked out of reflex. I didn't expect him to actually ask me to do something out of the blue. It got me spaced out for a moment. 

Logan shrugged, "I have things to do. But I'm not heartless enough to leave someone begging. Just do something interesting. I might keep you before I buy this place."

…

"What do you want me to do anyway…." 

"I don't know. You must've something to show. If you can't do anything, just strip or whatsoever," Logan replied nonchalantly. 

"STRIP!?" 

Okay, first, what an arrogant, rich, bratty, filthy jerk!

Second, we were underaged. Both of us were sixteen or seventeen at best. Did this jerk really asked me to strip!? I would fucking call child protection service on his ass!

I knew boys were always into that kind of stuff.

I felt insulted when he said that, so I grabbed a block of clay wrapped in plastic inside a box and then smacked it on the spinning table-thingy for pottery. 

"Oh? You're going to make something? I thought pottery is just 'this kind of thing' for you," Logan taunted me with a triumphant smirk on his smug face. 

Oh, of course, I really wanted to punch his face. 

The first day of our meeting, and I already wanted to choke him, what a wonderful partnership we would have in the pottery club later on. 

"Guess you were not lying when you said that you're passionate about this club," Logan commented. "Make me a small thing, like a simple mug."

I sat on a chair, staring at this spinning table thingy. I was acting rashly, I knew. It was something I did out of reflex when I got triggered.

I got heated once he told me to strip if I had nothing to show. So everything I did up until now was out of rage, and I regretted it. 

But I didn't want to look worthless in front of him. It was a matter of pride for me. So I started dripping some water on the clay and started kneading the clay cluelessly. 

…

…

"Pfft! Why are you giving a massage to that clay?" Logan was chuckling full of ridicule, laughing at my stupidity. 

I felt like an idiot playing in his hand, but I still didn't want to be seen as worthless. 

"Shut up. I know how to do it," I insisted.

Logan leaned on the chair and observing my activity, kneading clay like an idiot. He must've enjoyed this more than he should be. 

After having fun ridiculing me, he suddenly got up and walked towards the spinning table. He pointed at something under the spinning table, "This is called pottery wheel, and this one is manual. You need to press the pedal to spin the wheel. What a poor club. They can't even purchase the ones with machine."

Logan suddenly complained about stuff I didn't understand. He checked the clay inside a box as well, "Low-grade clays."

He continued checking on everything and telling the same thing repeatedly that everything was either low grade or cheap.

I sat like an idiot, watching him complaining over everything and sat right on his previous seat. 

I stared at him, and he looked at me back. 

…

"Since you can't do anything, I'll just kick you away after I bought this place," Logan dropped it so nonchalantly, I had no way to argue.

I didn't want to beg either, not after what he told me before. I still had some dignity on my own. 

Thus, I got up and picked my bag on the ground. 

"Wait, you're leaving just like that?" 

"What's more I can do here anyway? I have nothing and no time to impress a bratty kid like you," I snarked. I didn't expect my plan to use Pottery Club as my safe spot would fail because of this arrogant, good for nothing brat. 

But if I had to face random placement to a random club, then so be it. 

"You can beg, you know."

"I won't beg to you. Besides, I have no passion for playing with clay."

"So what you texted before were all lies?" Logan asked me again. 

I shed all my politeness and replied, "Why would I beg to a rich brat like you? Because I need your money, isn't it obvious?"

I walked past Logan, who was still sitting on the chair with a stunned expression. Since I had nothing to do here, I might as planned something to approach Leah. Using club visit as my guise was the best bet. Since I couldn't do it in Pottery Club, I would have to go the hard way in my new club later. 

As I was near the door, Logan suddenly dashed past me with his long legs. He stood at the door, intentionally blocking the door so I couldn't leave.

I glared at him without fear in my eyes. There was nothing scary with this person except his appearance.

"Step aside."

Logan peered on me as if he was deciding over something. He leaned his shoulder to the side, "You should've told me earlier about your true intention. You want to save yourself from getting placed in a crowded club, right?"

"Wha—"

How did he know my true intention so easily? 

Logan chuckled, "Your not-so-friendly aura has been reeking everywhere since the very start. It's so easy to read."

He said it so confidently, and I gulped out of shock and nervousness. 

I didn't expect someone to read me so easily. But I didn't want to look scared, so I steeled my will and said, "Then, if you already know about my intention, you should've known that I don't have any interest in playing with clay. I'll leave."

"Who said I need someone who can play with clay," Logan smirked and leaned in towards me, closing our distance. "I think we can arrange few things here."