Jake, a once cheerful class clown hiding deep emotional scars, finds himself homeless after years of failure and rejection—banished by his family, haunted by a past love, and unsure of his worth. Sleeping at bus stops and eating cheap meals, Jake’s path crosses with Alex, a silent, muscular gym owner carrying wounds of his own.

Alex offers Jake more than just a roof—he gives him purpose.

As they clean up the dusty gym and begin rebuilding their lives, the unlikely friendship blossoms into something powerful. Jake uses humor and heart to promote the gym, while Alex becomes the mentor Jake never had. Together, they begin healing from their pasts—until a passionate baker named Alya enters their world with dreams of sweetness and success.

In a quiet corner of the city, through barbells, buttercream, and broken hearts, three people discover that sometimes, the recipe for healing starts with a little laughter, a few reps… and a whole lot of cake.

The night air was cool as Alya walked alone, her hands tucked in her jacket pockets, her bag light after giving away the last slices of her cake. The streetlights flickered gently above her, and the laughter from the party still echoed in her mind.


But now, with each step away from the warmth of the gym, the silence crept in.


Alya was 16, holding her mother's hand under the soft yellow lights of their humble cake shop. The sign was old but lovingly polished, and the smell of butter and sugar always lingered in the air.


Her mother worked tirelessly—early mornings baking, late nights serving. Alya would watch her fingers crack from burns and frostbite. Watch her collapse into bed, only to wake again before dawn.


"You should go to university," her mother would say, smiling. "Live a bigger life."


But one night, Alya turned to Lisa, her closest friend, and whispered:


"I'm not going. Mom needs me. The shop needs me."


Another memory surfaced—a confrontation outside the bakery.


Kram and his gang lingered, trying to flirt with her, touch her, push her boundaries.


Her mother stormed out of the shop with a rolling pin in hand, fire in her eyes.


People had gathered. The punks backed off—but not before Kram whispered:


Alya had just finished frosting a cake when the noise hit—the shatter of glass, the slamming of shelves, the cruel laughter.


She screamed, tried to stop them—but she was alone.


She sat amid the wreckage, hands shaking, tears streaming down her face, heart shattered like the glass on the floor.


Alex, standing tall beside him like an unshakable wall.


But in that moment, she smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.


Back in the present, Alya paused near a narrow lane just blocks away from home. She looked up at the stars and whispered:


"Thank you… for giving me a reason to smile again."


Five silhouettes blocked the street ahead.


Kram stepped out from the center, a smug grin carved into his face like a scar.


The others fanned out beside him—Luke, Remy, Suk, Ted.


Chapter 45 - The Weight She Carried