Reality Check

Sunlight streams through the fluffy curtains of my window, casting a golden glow across my room. Its rays pierce through my eyelids, disrupting my peaceful sleep.

I groan, raising a hand to shield my face from the sun's brutality. It works for as long as I can hold my hand up. However, my muscles soon tire out, and I peek my eyes open.

I stretch, feeling the softness of my sheets rubbing smoothly against my skin. A gentle ache in my muscles reminds me of last night's draining events.

"I think I had too much to drink last night,", I rasp, massaging my scalp to ease my throbbing head.

The memory of my first client from last night lingers. His intense gaze and chiseled features are still fresh in my mind. I can't help but feel drawn to him, both physically and intellectually.

There's just something so mysterious about him that intrigues me. It's somewhat satisfying. Our encounter was more than just a transaction; he wanted me to enjoy it too.

"This would have been a wild dream,", I murmur to myself, shaking my head to ward off the vivid memories.

But the memory of his husky voice, whispering "Please me," still sends shivers down my spine. I sit there for a while in stunned silence, trying to collect myself and get on with the day.

Then, my phone buzzes, snapping me back to reality. I reach over and grab it from the bedside table. Kiki's name flashes on the screen.

“Hey, girl!", is the first thing Kiki shouts.

“Did you go home with that rich dude from last night?",she sings playfully. Kiki's voice is bubbly, a hint of teasing in her tone.

My face burns in embarrassment, grateful that Kiki's not there in person to torment me. I chuckle at Kiki's eagerness, trying to mask my growing unease.

If word goes out about my steamy encounter with the rich man, there'll be chaos all around the club. So, I try to play it off.

“What are you talking about? You're being really dramatic?", I say, playing dumb.

A knowing smile plays on my lips as I wait for Kiki's response.

“The rich guy from the club!" Kiki exclaims.

“Rachel said you left with him. Come on, Stella. Spill!", Kiki presses.

My mind starts to race as the memories come flooding back. Luca's tattooed chest, his fingers grazing my smooth skin, the way he tasted...

"Girl, I'm blanking on last night,", I say, laughing nervously. "I don't know what happened,", I admit, frustration creeping into my tone.

“Where were you anyway? Couldn’t find you last night”, I ask.

She laughs, “Girl, don't remind me of the scolding I got from her. I came late!”

As I'm indulged in our conversation, my gaze drifts around my room. It stops on a black credit card sitting on top of my desk. It’s perched comfortably on a document.

My eyes snap wide, and my heart skips a beat. I jolt upright, swiftly tossing away my covers and rise from the bed. I squint, examining its luxurious design and solid feel.

“Oh, God,", I whisper, my heartbeat quickening.

Kiki's voice cuts through the unsettling silence, "Stella, you there?"

“Yeah, I'm here,", I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I...I think I did go home with him.", Kiki's squeal pierces through the phone, making me cringe.

"Ohmygod! Details, please! Tell me everything!", My fingers instinctively tug at my hair, tucking it behind my ear as I pause.

I'm unsure of how much I need to reveal. So I just make up an excuse, my cheeks burning from embarrassment.

"Gotta go, Kiki. I need to check my emails."

“Okay, but you owe me!", Kiki says, laughing.

I end the call, cautiously approaching the study table. I carefully pick the black card up and set it aside, my hands going for the paper . The paper resembles something picked straight out of the rumble of a burnt building, with its hard surface and burnt jagged edges. Judging from the deep lines and jagged lettering, the scribblings on the paper seem to have been carved in.

Everything is written in red ink. Written in bold letters at the top of the paper is "CONTRACT." It glows with intensity, its gold and red colors blending together like the flames of lava. My gaze skips the fine print, zeroing in on the familiar scribble in the bottom left corner - my signature.

It is unmistakably mine. My breath catches in my throat as I jerk back. What kind of sick joke is this? Who is Luca, anyway? Why is this contract here, paired with that black card? This has to be a prank, right? But the black card, the name... it's all too real.

Panic sets in as I wonder what I've gotten myself into. What had I signed away? And why? Then I remember his words. The memory is faint but I’m pretty sure he said “Good girls get paid”

After I had just given him the best nut job he’s ever had.

While questions pile up in my head, my laptop by my side hums. The screen glows to life, a noticeable icon hinting at an email. My heart thumps as I open my inbox to reveal an unexpected surprise.

"Job Interview Confirmation: Designer Position at Démon & Co."

A thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness swirls in my chest as I gaze at the email. Weeks and weeks of waiting and finally...

However, my excitement is short-lived as my eyes drift to the paper on my desk—the contract with the name, Luca and my signature. I've refused to read the actual content for fear of knowing what it actually entails. I'll deal with that later.

I quickly fold the paper and tuck the card away in my closet, deciding to focus on the interview for now. I take a deep breath, pushing away my lingering concerns. Then I head out of my room to begin my preparations for the day.

As I get ready, my mind wanders back to Luca and the mysterious contract. Who is he, and what have I gotten myself into? I push the thoughts aside, focusing on the interview, but the questions linger, haunting me.

I'll have to face the truth eventually, but for now, I'll pretend I didn't sign my life away to a stranger. The thought sends a shiver down my spine as I head out the door, ready to face whatever the day brings.