Chapter 2

DRASA'S POV

“Table 11.” Amelia barely looked at me as she shoved the tray into my hands. “Be quick. And don’t mess up.”

I nodded, gripping the tray tighter than necessary. The glassware clinked together, threatening to spill, but I steadied them. This was my first night at the club, and I couldn’t afford a single mistake or I wouldn't get paid or worse…I'd be fired.

Talk about overwhelming.

As I moved through the dimly lit space that smelt of stale cigarettes, the bass of the music thumped against my skull making my head pound, this was not my type of environment. 

The air was heavy with the smell of perfume, sweat, and the sickly sweet scent of alcohol. Men lounged in plush booths, their hands lazily draped over the women perched beside them.

I kept my head down, determined not to make eye contact.

Weaving through the tables, I ignored the occasional brush of a hand against my arm or the way eyes followed me. It wasn’t because of my uniform, it was because of my hair. The silver strands stood out like a beacon under the club’s neon lights, drawing attention I didn’t want.

I finally reached Table 11, a group of four men deep in conversation.

“Here’s your order,” I said, carefully setting down the drinks.

One of them, a man with slicked-back hair and a half-unbuttoned shirt, barely glanced at me before snorting. “Didn’t know they hired kids now.”

My fingers twitched around the tray, but I kept my expression neutral. “I’m just here to serve drinks.”

Another guy leaned forward, his gaze sweeping over me lazily, his eyes droopy. “What’s with the hair? You trying to look like some kind of moon priestess?”

A few of them chuckled, and heat crawled up my neck in embarrassment. I fought the urge to snap back. I was used to people staring, whispering, but it never failed to piss me off.

“Just how I was born,” I muttered, stepping back, my hands on my waist.

“Sure, sure,” the first man scoffed, picking up his drink. “You look lost in thoughts, kid. Try not to spill anything next time.”

Mother fucker. I didn't spill anything now. A

Kid? Kid?!

I didn’t reply. Instead, I turned on my heel and walked away, my heart pounding in my chest.

Calm down, Drasa, he's not worth it.

Back at the bar, Amelia smirked at my return. “You survived.”

I exhaled sharply, placing the empty tray down. “Yeah. This is hectic”

She laughed, shaking her head as she wiped down the counter. “You’ll get used to it. Just don’t start crying or something.”

I ignored her and grabbed the next order.

The night dragged on. I delivered drinks, dodged unwanted attention, and tried not to think about how sore my feet were from walking out. Occasionally, I caught glimpses of the stage; women dancing under flashing lights, their bodies moving in a way that made the crowd roar and men leer.

The idea of resorting to something like that made my insides churn with fear.

Eventually, my shift ended. As soon as I stepped outside, the cool night air hit me, and I let out a shaky breath, finally taking in fresh air.

Amelia shoved an envelope into my hands as she walked out, her hair pulled up in a pony tail. “Your pay.”

I nodded, taking it without a word. When I opened it, my fingers trembled slightly.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

It was my money.

The next day, I felt like a zombie as I walked into class, my body aching from the late shift.

Sliding into my seat, I let out a slow breath and tried to focus, but the exhaustion from the previous night seemed to settle on me. The teacher droned on, her voice blending with the hum of the environment around her, her monotone sending me into another place.

I zoned out.

Firstly, I thought about the boy I had bumped into yesterday… I hadn't seen him today and I had found myself peeking about the hallways for a glimpse of those blue ethereal eyes but nothing.

Damn it, Drasa. Snap out of it.

My thoughts drifted back to last night. This place…was a lot for me to handle and I had to think of a way to get my shit together so I would survive my years here. Mrs Lyra's words came rushing back and I adjusted in my seat. I barely noticed the classroom anymore.

“Miss Drasa.”

My head snapped up. The teacher’s sharp gaze was locked onto me, the entire class turning to stare.

I stiffened. “Uh…yes?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you can enlighten us. What was the key takeaway from today’s discussion?”

My mind was blank.

Shit.

A few students snickered, and I could feel my face heat up. I scrambled to remember anything, anything at all, but my brain was blank. Shit, I didn't know what we were talking about.

“I, uh…”

Elara, the girl sitting a few seats over, coughed lightly, her lips barely moving as she whispered, “Civil rights movement.”

I latched onto the words. “The… civil rights movement?” I turned to look at Elara discreetly before facing the teacher again.

The teacher eyed me for a long moment before sighing. “At least you were listening to something,” she muttered. “Try to stay present, Miss Drasa.”

I nodded quickly, sinking lower into my seat as the class resumed.

Elara smirked at me from the side, but it wasn’t mocking. “You owe me,” she whispered.

I exhaled slowly, thankful she hadn’t let me flounder or embarrass myself but it didn't mean anything, she was just like the others here which left me with the question…why did she even help?

As soon as the bell rang, I grabbed my bag and tried to slip out unnoticed.

“Hey!”

I tensed and froze.

Elara stepped in front of me, blocking my exit. She was taller than me, with short, dark curls and an easy confidence that I envied. Unlike most of the students here, she wasn’t dressed like she had a designer sponsor; just jeans, sneakers, and a leather jacket but still I knew she was part of the elite with how expensive her clothes looked either way.

“You’re new too, right? I noticed you yesterday when you bumped into someone” she asked.

My eyes widened slightly. “The blue eyed boy?” I asked hopefully and her eye twitched but she nodded.

“Yeah” Her tone was a little bit cheery. “The blue eyed boy if that's what you know him by”

I nodded, unsure where this was going.

She grinned. “There’s a party tonight. You coming?”

I blinked, confused. “Party?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of a thing for new students. Everyone goes.” she explained.

I hesitated. “I don’t really do parties.”

“Neither do I,” she admitted, “but skipping it will just make you stand out more.”

I pressed my lips together. She wasn’t wrong. It definitely would. Still, something about it felt… off. I didn’t belong at parties. I barely belonged here.

“I don’t know—”

“Just come for an hour,” she cut in. “If you hate it, leave. Also the blue eyed boy will be there” she clicked her fingers at me.

I hesitated because I wasn't sure I could trust an elite.

Mrs. Lyra’s warning echoed in my head. Find an ally or you won’t make it out.

I didn’t know if Elara was an ally, but she was the first person to talk to me like I wasn’t some weird outsider.

“What's his name though?” I found myself asking.

Once more, her grin widened. “Why don't you come for the party and I'll tell you after the party, hm? You may even meet him again”

“…Fine,” I muttered. “I’ll go.”

Elara grinned. “Good. I’ll text you the address.”

As she walked off, I exhaled sharply, already regretting my decision.

Shit.