Chapter 107 — Penny's "Embarrassing" Situation
The rain had stopped, but the streets were still damp. Streetlights reflected off the asphalt, turning the road into a slick ribbon of light.
Ethan had just picked up some Chinese takeout from a nearby restaurant and was heading back to his apartment.
He was driving slowly.
The navigation had already said "Turn right ahead" three times.
Now it had given up entirely.
"Make a U-turn ahead."
But his hands never moved the wheel.
His thoughts were still stuck back in the consultation room.
Diabetes came in two main forms: Type 1 and Type 2.
Type 2, for Ethan, was relatively manageable.
Because the core problem wasn't a lack of insulin—it was insulin resistance. The body's cells gradually stopped responding properly to insulin.
To compensate, the pancreas worked overtime, pumping out more and more insulin to brute-force blood sugar control.
For a long time, this "human wave tactic" kept things barely within acceptable limits.
But eventually, the pancreas burned out.
And that was when diabetes truly began.
For Ethan, this kind of problem was straightforward.
The system was still intact—it was just out of rhythm.
A full round of healing spells could restore balance: reduce insulin resistance, ease pancreatic strain, and bring everything back into a normal range.
But Type 1…
That was a completely different story.
The issue wasn't rhythm.
It was destruction.
The immune system mistakenly identified insulin-producing beta cells as enemies—and wiped them out.
The result was simple:
No insulin.
No injections.
Death.
His healing magic could fix part of the problem.
It could reset the immune system. Stop the body from attacking itself.
But it couldn't conjure an entire factory out of thin air.
Beta cells were workers—ones that could die, fail, and disappear.
The body could regenerate them… slowly.
Painfully slowly.
Like grass growing back through ruins.
And that—
That was exactly the girl's situation.
Her immune system had been corrected. The attacks had stopped.
But the insulin-producing "factory" was still far from rebuilt.
So for a long time, she would still need injections.
Daily.
Not optional.
The good news?
Her body was no longer destroying itself.
Given enough time, she could recover.
Just…
Very slowly.
Ethan suddenly remembered her question:
"If I ration it… how long can I last?"
That question itself made him uncomfortable.
He did a quick calculation in his head—
Before today's treatment, even with the most basic regimen, her condition would cost around $1,300 a month.
In America.
In New York.
In a place proudly labeled "the world's best healthcare system."
And yet—
Someone still had to calculate how long they could survive by rationing medicine.
He pressed the brake, slowed down, and turned into the parking garage.
A thought—immature, yet impossible to ignore—quietly surfaced:
If I started a charity fund…
Would fewer people have to "calculate survival" just to stay alive?
---
When Ethan pushed open the apartment door, the living room was already full.
Penny and the gang—Sheldon, Leonard, Howard, and Raj—were all there.
The table was covered with takeout containers.
And the air carried that unmistakable Friday smell—
Indian food.
Everyone looked up the moment he entered.
Sheldon stood immediately, his gaze locking onto the bag in Ethan's hand.
"Ethan," he said calmly, "today is Friday."
Ethan nodded. "Yes."
"According to our weekly dining schedule," Sheldon continued, "Friday is Indian food night."
Ethan lifted his bag. "I know, but—"
"There is no 'but.'" Sheldon cut him off. "'But' is the breeding ground of chaos theory."
He stared at the bag, frowning.
"That is Chinese food."
"…Yes," Ethan admitted. "Fried rice, kung pao chicken, and soup."
Sheldon inhaled deeply.
"So you have returned on a Friday evening—with Chinese food—to an apartment where Indian food has already been ordered according to plan."
He turned to the group.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have just witnessed a violation of the dining agreement."
Raj whispered something to Howard.
Howard relayed it: "He says… he actually wants Chinese food too…"
Sheldon snapped his head around.
"You're Indian, and on Indian food day, you want Chinese food? Do you have no respect for your homeland?"
Raj whispered again.
Howard sighed. "Yeah, he's giving up."
Leonard jumped in quickly. "Hey, relax, maybe Ethan just—"
"Got off work late," Ethan said.
Sheldon stared at him for two seconds.
"That is not a valid excuse for disrupting universal order."
He paused, then reconsidered.
"But… given that you are a doctor—and you're either punctual or absent entirely—being this late suggests something unpleasant happened."
He nodded solemnly.
"To prevent emotional instability that might lead to global catastrophe, I will forgive you."
He sat back down in his designated spot.
Order was restored.
Ethan let out a breath. Years of "training" Sheldon were finally paying off.
He set the Chinese food aside.
"You seem off today," Penny said. Casual tone—but genuine concern underneath.
"Had a patient right before closing," Ethan replied, taking off his coat.
"Friday evening patient?" Leonard raised an eyebrow. "That's never good."
"Yeah… it wasn't," Ethan admitted. "But it worked out."
"Perfect timing then," Leonard said, clapping his hands. "Everyone's here."
He started handing out food.
"This is yours, Howard. You owe me two bucks—the cumin pork went up in price."
Howard paid with a sigh. "Being a rebellious Jew is getting expensive."
Leonard handed another box over.
"Here, Penny—shrimp in lobster sauce."
"Thanks. How much?"
Leonard waved it off. "Don't worry about it."
"No." Penny insisted. "How much?"
Leonard hesitated. "Ten… eleven…"
"Which is it?"
"…Fourteen fifty," Leonard blurted. "But really, it's fine—next time you treat."
Raj and Howard exchanged looks and laughed.
Penny narrowed her eyes. "What?"
Howard answered quickly: "He's wondering if tight jeans and a tank top would get him free shrimp noodles too."
Ethan patted Raj's shoulder. Leonard shook his head silently.
Penny's voice shot up:
"What's that supposed to mean? That I trade my body for dinner? Am I some kind of 'Indian food escort'?!"
The room went dead silent.
Howard instantly flipped: "Yeah, Raj! What do you mean?!"
"I support myself!" Penny snapped. "I don't rely on anyone, got it?!"
Raj shrank into himself and fled to the bathroom.
Penny watched him go, then turned back. "What's his problem?"
Howard shrugged. "He pees when he's nervous. Like a puppy."
Penny pulled out money and counted it.
"Here. Leonard. Ten… fourteen."
"Fourteen fifty…" Leonard corrected instinctively, then waved it off. "But it's fine."
Sheldon stared at her food.
"Wow. You're eating shrimp."
"Yes," Penny said sharply. "I'm eating food."
Ethan glanced at her.
Something was off.
Too tense.
Sheldon nodded. "Understood."
"Of course it's damn good!" Penny suddenly exploded. "I've been eating leftovers at the diner for four days! I just wanted something different—go ahead, sue me!"
"I apologize, Penny," Sheldon replied calmly, "but that is the textbook definition of frivolous litigation."
Penny took a deep breath.
"Sheldon, I'll pay you back as soon as I have money. Just give me some time."
Ethan frowned.
Leonard blinked. "Wait—you lent her money?"
"Yes," Sheldon said. "She needed it."
Ethan asked gently, "What happened, Penny?"
"Nothing." She looked away. "The diner cut my shifts. And my car broke down."
"I did point out months ago," Sheldon added, "that your 'check engine' light was flashing."
"It wasn't the light!" Penny snapped. "It was the damn engine! Cost me twelve hundred to fix."
Twelve hundred…
Ethan's mind flickered.
Sheldon said earnestly, "You seem stressed. Was my loan insufficient? I can lend you more."
"Oh, you love this, don't you?" Penny scoffed. "Playing banker to the poor girl who can't pay her bills?"
She grabbed her food and headed for the door.
"Penny, where are you going?" Leonard asked.
"Home. Before this turns into an interrogation."
The door slammed shut.
Silence lingered.
Ethan was still thinking—
Penny was struggling after a one-time $1200 expense.
But that girl earlier?
She needed $1300 every single month.
Same kind of job.
How had she been surviving?
"If any of you are planning theft," Sheldon said suddenly, "I've already removed the money from my emergency snake jar."
No one responded.
Ethan glanced at Leonard, then finally said:
"You should check on her."
Leonard stood immediately—then hesitated.
"I… don't know what to say. Can you go first? I'll follow in a few minutes."
Ethan sighed internally.
That last breakup really did a number on him.
"…Fine."
---
Ethan crossed the hallway and knocked on Penny's door.
No answer.
After a moment, he pushed it open.
The lights were off.
The room was lit only by candles.
Soft. Flickering.
Penny sat alone at the table, eating.
"Hey," Ethan said.
"Hey." She didn't look up.
He closed the door, glanced around.
"Candlelight dinner," he said honestly. "Nice."
She finally looked up.
"Yeah."
"Because I didn't pay my electricity bill. Apparently, the power company thinks I'd enjoy the ambiance."
"…That's surprisingly thoughtful of them."
She took a sip of water.
"I used Sheldon's money to pay rent."
She paused.
"…And I had fourteen dollars left."
Ethan froze.
Ethan recalled the cash she had just handed to Leonard.
"Fourteen dollars? …Alright. I get it now."
Knock knock knock.
A head peeked in through the door.
"Hey," Leonard said cautiously.
Penny pressed her lips together and looked at him. Ethan, on the other hand, felt a bit helpless.
Buddy… your timing is terrible.
Ethan quickly gestured to Leonard—power's cut, don't mention the candles.
Then he turned back to Penny.
"Sheldon really doesn't care when you pay him back," Ethan said. "In fact, that's one of his few redeeming qualities—otherwise, people would've strangled him a long time ago."
Penny didn't laugh.
"Sheldon isn't the problem."
She walked over to the couch, grabbed a stack of bills, and spread them out.
"This is the problem."
Leonard stepped closer immediately, forcing an optimistic tone.
"You're just behind on payments. That happens to everyone."
"I know," Penny said quietly. "But this… this is nothing like the life I imagined."
Ethan asked, "And what did you imagine?"
"Waitressing for six months," Penny said matter-of-factly, "and then becoming a movie star."
Leonard paused.
"…Do you have a Plan B?"
"Yes. Becoming a TV star."
Ethan and Leonard exchanged a look—and wisely said nothing.
Leonard picked up the bills.
"Maybe it's not as bad as it looks. Let's see where we can cut costs."
He pointed at one line.
"For example, if your electricity is off—technically, you don't need to pay for internet."
Ethan and Penny stared at him.
Leonard looked up and immediately backtracked.
"…Just a suggestion."
Ethan flipped to another page.
"Acting classes—$170 a month?"
"That stays," Penny said instantly. "I'm not giving that up. I'm a professional actress."
"Do you have any acting jobs that actually pay?" Leonard asked.
"That's not how you define 'professional.'"
"Actually, that's exactly how—"
"Moving on," Ethan cut in decisively.
He scanned further.
"New York Superior Court—$1,800 fine?"
Penny clearly didn't want to talk about it. She turned away and started tidying the table.
"It's nothing."
"Nothing?" Leonard said. "If the fine scales with speed, you must've been driving at like 4,000 miles per hour."
"Remember Kurt?" Penny said.
Leonard gestured. "Your ex?"
"Yeah. He got arrested for peeing on a police car."
Ethan and Leonard: "What?!"
"He was drunk."
"…I hope so," Leonard muttered.
"He had a bunch of tickets and fines," Penny continued. "So… I paid them."
Ethan asked, "Did he pay you back?"
"No." Penny shrugged. "But he will."
Leonard inhaled deeply.
"So your financial plan is based on a guy who's unreliable, drinks too much, and urinates on police vehicles?"
"Leonard." Penny looked up. "I'm not calling him to collect."
"Then what are you going to do?" Ethan asked.
Penny fell silent for a moment.
"…I might have to find a cheaper place."
Ethan nodded. "Yeah, Upper West Side rent is—"
"No."
Leonard cut him off immediately.
"You don't want to do that."
Penny and Ethan both turned to him.
"Why not?"
"Moving is expensive," Leonard said seriously.
"You have to buy storage boxes. And if those boxes aren't clean—your books will smell like cantaloupe."
Ethan & Penny: "???"
Leonard paused, then tried again.
"…Why don't you get a roommate?"
Penny spread her hands. "Do you know anyone suitable?"
Leonard didn't hesitate.
"I'm pretty sure anyone who's lived with Sheldon wouldn't mind moving in with you."
Penny turned to Ethan.
Ethan just smiled—didn't deny it.
She turned back to Leonard.
Her tone suddenly shifted—soft, teasing, a little dangerous.
"Leonard, sweetheart… if we lived together, I'd be glued to you 24/7."
Leonard's eyes lit up.
"Really?"
Penny crossed her legs, glanced at Ethan, then looked back at Leonard.
Her smile widened—playful, confident.
"What, you think I've been wasting money on those acting classes?"
(End of Chapter)