8.

SUMMER'S POV

Dark Bird!! Are you seeing this group chat right now?? Girl, people are dragging you BADLY. Saying you seduced the big shot and that's why Noel gave him to you. Some of them are saying you've been doing that for months — stealing clients and getting special treatment. It's getting messy. You need to see this."

A screenshot followed.

I slowly opened it.

It was the club's internal staff group chat — the one Mr. Noel ran for scheduling and announcements that had quietly become a gossip channel after hours. Message after message, name after name. Girls I had worked alongside for over a year, some of whom I had covered shifts for, all of them talking about me like I was a stain they'd been tolerating.

"Dark Bird thinks she's special.

"Always disappearing early. Where does she goes to?"

"Noel gives her the big ones because she does extras. You know what I mean."

"Someone should just tell him what she actually does in those rooms."

That last one sat in my stomach like a stone. Fear ran through my veins.

I typed back to Amanda: "I'm coming in."

She replied immediately, "Dark Bird no, wait till it dies down—

I was already grabbing my jacket.

The club looked different in daylight. Smaller and shabbier. The neon signs were off, and without them the building was just a building — concrete and a heavy door and a smell I'd stopped noticing months ago.

I went in through the staff entrance.

The first person I saw was one of the girls from the chat. She looked away the moment our eyes met, and that told me everything about how the next few minutes were going to go.

I found Mr. Noel in his office, which was a generous word for the small glass-walled room at the back that smelled permanently of cigars and cheap cologne.

He saw me through the glass before I knocked. His face was unreadable.

I knocked anyway.

"Come."

I stepped in and closed the door behind me. "Mr. Noel, I know about the group chat. I want to explain—"

"There is nothing to explain." He didn't look up from the papers on his desk.

"Sir, those messages aren't true. I have never—"

"I said," he set down his pen, "there is nothing to explain." He finally looked at me. His expression wasn't angry. It was worse — it was done. "You were warned about coming in late. And now there are complaints from staff. Serious ones."

"From people who are jealous because—"

"Dark Bird." He said my name like a door closing. "I run a clean establishment. Reputation is everything in this business. I cannot have stories circulating, whether they are true or false." He folded his hands on the desk. "I'm letting you go."

The words landed like something physical.

"Mr. Noel—"

"Your final pay will be processed by end of week. I am sorry, Summer." And oddly, he did look it. Just not sorry enough. "You may collect your things."

I stood there for a moment. Then I nodded once, turned around, and walked out.

Amanda was hovering near the dressing room door, her face crumpled with guilt. "Summer, I swear I didn't know he was going to—"

"It's okay," I said. My voice came out strangely calm.

"It's not okay! Those girls lied and now you're—"

"Amanda." I touched her arm briefly. "It's okay."

I collected the few things I kept in my locker. A spare lip gloss, a charger, asmall photograph of Clyde that I'd taped inside the door on a night when I needed to remember why I was there.

I peeled the photograph off carefully, tucked it into my pocket, and walked out.

It was only when I stepped back into the heavy rain back onto the street, the heavy door swinging shut behind me, that the full weight of it landed.

No job. Rent due in four days. An unknown number with a photograph of my brother. And somewhere out there, a group of masked people who had told me, calmly and without flinching, that my life was in their hands.

My phone buzzed. It was George.

"Where are you?" He texted me. I read it and put off my phone.

I was slowly inside the rain, getting more and more drenched. But I suddenly felt covered. I slowly looked up. It was Kingsley. He was with an umbrella, that was over us.

"Summer, what the hell do you think you are doing in the rain?" He yelled at me.

I just stared blankly at him, like he was some ghost.

"Summer, are you okay?" He asked, with genuine concern written all over his face. "Let's get out of the rain." He grabbed me, to take me away from the rain. I pulled out violently.

"What the hell do you think you are doing here?" I screamed at him.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"You want to watch me ruin the more, that why you are here, right?" I grabbed his shirt. The umbrella fell down, and the rain slowly poured on us adding to my misery. It wasn't enough that I almost lost my house, not I had lost my job. And the one person, that I never want to show my weak side is standing right in front of me.

"What the hell are you doing at my work place?"

"Summer!!" he yelled. "Come back to senses!" He grabbed my hands that was on his shirt.

"Clyde is sick!" He screamed.

"Who is sick?" I slowly picked my words.

"Clyde."

I laughed out, like a mad woman, because I'm very sure that the universe is my greatest enemy, at this point.

"George has been trying to reach, to let you know. But you haven't be picking your call." He slowly said.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"At Saint Peter's Hospital."

I immediately ran, not caring about the heavy downpour of rain. I cared less at the moment. All I could think of was the safety of my brother. Tears streamed down my face, mixed with the heavy downpour.

"Wait Summer, let's take my car." Kingsley said. He drove his car, and we both headed to the hospital.

I don't have hope again, but if Clyde dies, I'm surely going to be ending this wretched life of mine.