Chapter 2

Kayla's POV- 

The silence of my tiny apartment was louder than Sarah’s shouting had been. I sat on the edge of my bed, the air thick with the smell of old noddles and the cold, lingering scent of anxiety. My phone sat on the floor, its screen dark, but in my mind, I could still see the countdown clock ticking down the hours until my mother would be discharged into the harsh reality of the city streets.

I stood up, pacing the three steps from my bed to the kitchen, my legs trembling. I pulled open my junk drawer, the place where I kept the "emergency" cash, though it hadn’t been an emergency since three months ago. I emptied the contents: 

A few crumpled single dollar bills, 

A handful of coins, 

And a shop slip for a necklace I’d already sold to cover last month’s rent. 

The total was less than twenty dollars. It was an insult.

I let out a dry, laugh that quickly turned into a sob. I looked around the room, desperate for something else to sell off. 

My laptop? It was outdated and slow; a secondhand shop would laugh at it. 

My clothes? Old, and worn out

There was nothing left to sell. I was standing in the wreckage of a life that was slowly falling apart, and a realization hit me with the force of a physical blow

*sigh* 

Sarah was right, I had no choice 

My phone buzzed, vibrating against the floorboards. A notification from the hospital:

“Ms. Williams, your mother’s scheduled surgery deposit is due within 24 hours. Please contact the billing department to finalize payment.”

Twenty-four hours. The reality of it stole the air from the room. If I did nothing, my mother would be thrown out of the hospital, If I stayed home, I was choosing the easy path of "dignity" while my mother suffered. Was that really dignity? Or was it just a selfish way to keep my own hands clean while my mother paid the price?

I stared at the wall until the shadows stretched across the room. My ego, my pride, my fear none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the monitor I had heard earlier that morning

I reached for my phone, my thumb lingering over the contact for Sarah. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped it. I deleted the draft of the text I had been mentally writing for hours—“I can’t do it” and instead, typed three words that felt like a death sentence for my old self: “Are you working?”

I didn’t wait for a reply. I grabbed my bag, put on my worn out sneakers, and left the apartment. I didn’t look back. I caught the late night bus, staring out the window at the city lights until they blurred because of my tears. 

When I finally arrived at The Velvet Room, the bass music vibrated through the pavement and into my bones.

I stood outside the entrance, the scent of expensive perfume and cheap cigarettes filling the cool night air. The bouncer looked me up and down with a bored expression, but I didn't care. I pushed past him, walking into the noise.

The air inside The Velvet Room was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, sweat, and cigarettes. I then saw sarah who was currently perched on the lap of a man in a tailored silk shirt, laughing at a joke that clearly wasn't funny, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. 

Then, her eyes scanned the crowd and locked onto me. Her smile didn't fade, but her posture sharpened.

"Excuse me for a second, darling," Sarah told the man, sliding off his lap with a wink that promised a return, though they both knew better.

She twisted through the crowd of bodies, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor, until she stood directly in front of me. The neon lights cast tired shadows over my exhausted face.

"You look like hell, sweetie," Sarah said, though her voice lacked its usual bite. She led me toward the quieter shadows near the back bar. "Why are you here? Did you finally come to your senses, or did you just miss my delightful company?"She winked 

I gripped my bag so tightly my knuckles turned white. I looked at the dancers on the stage, and then back at Sarah. My voice in a whisper. "I can’t believe I’m even saying this... but I... I want to do it."

Sarah’s eyes flashed with a mix of triumph and something softer like a pity. She leaned in, her voice in a little bit of sass. "Well, look at you, finally coming to your senses, don't act so tragic, babe, you’re about to be the highest paid girl in the city for one night. And Trust me, the billionaire won't even know what hit him, and by tomorrow morning, your mama's hospital bill will be just a memory."

Sarah pulled out her phone, her thumb moving across the screen with practiced speed. "I'll text him right now. He’s picky though, but he’s been asking for a fresh face for weeks. You’re lucky I’m good at marketing."

Everything after that moved in a terrifying blur. Sarah didn't give me a chance to back out. She led me into a dark slick sedan car and the driver drove and arrived at a luxurious Hotel and we went to the sterile, intimidating lobby of the Hotel.

The elevator ride to the top floor felt like a trip to the moon. When the doors finally slid open, the carpeted hallway was silent, lined with heavy doors that felt like VIP entrances. Sarah checked her watch, squeezed my shoulder, and pointed to room 2401.

"Go on," Sarah whispered, her sass replaced by seriousness. "Don't look back!."

I walked toward the door, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. Every step felt heavier than the last. I reached the door and raised my hand, my knuckles just inches away from the door. My heart was racing so fast I thought it might actually stop, and as I stood there in the quiet of the hallway, I realized there was no going back. So I knocked.