Chapter 2 - Homeless

11:58 PM – Aria’s Foster Home, South L.A.

Aria barely made it off the night bus before her phone started ringing again.

“Unknown Number” but she already knew who it was.

She answered, breathless. “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you, Aria?” barked Maureen, the woman who’d raised her since she was thirteen. “You think you’re grown now? You’re needed at home!”

Aria frowned. “Needed for what? I just got off work. It's midnight, Maureen.”

“Well, your shift ain’t my business, is it? Your foster daddy is in trouble.”

Aria stiffened. “What kind of trouble?”

“Just bring cash. And hurry. I ain’t explaining over the phone.” Click.

She sighed and Just like that, she started walking. The night air was cold, and her thin jacket didn’t do much. She gripped the envelope in her bag tightly tips she hadn’t even counted yet.

When she got to the worn-down house, Maureen was already waiting on the porch, arms folded.

“You’re just getting here? You took your sweet time,” she spat.

“I came straight from work,” Aria said through clenched teeth. “What’s going on?”

Maureen didn’t answer. She just pushed open the door.

Inside, the house smelled like stale beer, sweat, and cheap cologne. Frank, Maureen’s unemployed boyfriend, was sprawled on the couch, face red and voice slurred.

“Ariaaa!” he slurred. “My little breadwinner.”

Aria’s stomach turned.

Maureen snatched the envelope from her bag like it was hers by right. “We need this.”

Aria blinked. “That’s my rent. I’ve been saving—”

“He lost everything tonight,” Maureen snapped, jerking her head toward Frank. “Poker went sideways. They’re coming back to collect. You want them to break our legs?”

“Our?” Aria said bitterly. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t sitting at the table.”

Maureen narrowed her eyes. “You ungrateful little bitch.... after everything we’ve done for you. This is how you talk to us?”

“You didn’t raise me. You fed me so I could work and send you money,” Aria said, voice shaking.

Frank stood up suddenly, staggering toward her. “You better watch your mouth, girl.”

“I’m leaving,” Aria said, backing toward the door. “I have to be up in four hours anyway.”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Maureen hissed. “Not until we’re square.”

“You already took the money!” Aria shouted.

Maureen didn’t flinch. “Then let me make it easier for you.”

She grabbed the small duffel bag from the corner of the room... That was Aria’s only real possession and threw it at her feet.

“You’re done here.”

Aria froze. “What?”

“You heard me. Get out.” Maureen sneered. “We don’t need your attitude. And we sure as hell don’t need your sob story.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go…”

Frank chuckled from the couch. “Try those rich guys who gives you tips. Bet one would take you in for a night.”

The words hit like acid.

Aria’s throat closed. She turned, grabbed her bag, and walked out... she isn't begging anyone.

---

1:21 AM – Cold Sidewalk,

She sat on the curb outside a closed laundromat, hugging her bag to her chest. Her phone battery blinked at 8%. She had no apartment, no family, no future plans.

She opened her bag and stared at the black card.

Royalton Hotel. Room 807.

She had sworn not to go. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She’d never done anything like it before.

But she was cold and currently Homeless. And carrying a $35 tip in quarters.

She looked up at the sky and whispered, “God, are You watching this? Do You even care?”

The silence answered.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, wiping her face. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone and called a cab.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

She hesitated. Then finally said, “Royalton Hotel. Downtown.”

---

1:57 AM – Royalton Hotel, Room 807

She stood outside the room, heart pounding. Her reflection in the polished hallway mirror showed a tired girl in a wrinkled jacket, eyes wide and afraid.

She raised her fist. Paused.

Just knock.

But what if he laughs? What if he changed his mind? What if she was making the worst mistake of her life?

She didn’t knock.

The door opened on its own.

He stood there. Shirtless, barefoot, his pants hung low on his hips, and he didn’t look vulgar though. He looked... tired. Still sharp and unreadable.

He looked at her.

“I—I wasn’t sure if I should come,” she whispered.

He stepped aside, holding the door open. “But you are here.”

Aria didn’t move.

“I won’t touch you unless you want me to,” he said softly. “You can leave anytime.”

Her voice cracked. “Why me?”

He paused. “Because when I saw you tonight, it occured to me that I needed a companion... and you were good”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

And she walked inside.