The Penultimate Man of the Apocalypse

In a corner café in New York's Chinatown, 26-year-old Vivian has just lost her job—and then gets humiliated in public by her ex-boyfriend. “Looking like that, the only guy you could ever marry is that loser from the library.” Angry and impulsive, Vivian turns toward the quiet man reading in the corner. His suit is worn, one arm of his glasses is held together with tape, but his smile is warm. “Want to get married?” he asks. “I'll treat you well.” Three months into the marriage, Vivian is working as a server at a luxury gala when her ex and his new girlfriend deliberately make a scene and pour wine all over her. The room erupts in laughter. Then the “useless husband” everyone has been mocking slowly walks onto the stage. He takes off his glasses, accepts the microphone, and says, “Thank you all for coming to celebrate my acquisition of this hotel.” The spotlight hits. Wall Street heavyweights across the room stand up to greet him. He slips an arm around a stunned Vivian and whispers, “I pretended to have nothing because I wanted someone who didn't care about my money. Now, my queen, may I clear the room for you?” A line of bodyguards walks in and politely escorts her ex's entire family out.