The Man I Should Hate Is My Sponsor

~Maria Pov~

I knew I was living a happy life when unexpected misfortune struck. It was my twentieth birthday.

Being on set had always been my dream, and as an upcoming actress, I'd finally landed my first real gig. It was only a side role, but it was my first drama.

Then my reality became a drama of its own.

Phones began buzzing across the set, one after another. At first I thought it had something to do with production. It wasn't. It was gossip — and behind it, I caught the sound of my family name.

It was like a hurricane. The Moore family, involved in slush funds, illegal drugs, and murder. Watching people talk, I could feel myself losing breath. Maybe it's a lie, I told myself. Then my phone rang — and I saw the one person who wouldn't call unless there was an emergency: my mother.

Picking up the phone, her voice was ragged, but one thing was clear.

"Maria, don't come home. Your dad and I will handle—"

She said something else after that, but I can't remember a word of it.

It's been a year since that day. Today was supposed to be my twenty-first birthday — not that anyone cared.

Walking into the run-down apartment I'd been barely managing to pay rent for, I could tell my father was home. I didn't want to go in, but I didn't have anywhere else to go.

My phone rang. It was a number I didn't know. I let it ring for a while before picking it up.

"Hello," I said, my voice still carrying the exhaustion I'd become so familiar with.

"Is this actress Maria?" a man's voice came through the phone.

"Yes, this is Maria."

"I'm the secretary of Halcyon Industries," he said.

"How may I help you?" I asked, wondering what business they had with me.

"Our CEO would like to meet you."

"CEO?" I repeated.

"He's interested in discussing a private sponsorship arrangement with you," he continued.

"Wait... what?"

I'd heard of things like this in this industry.

"Are you seriously talking about sponsoring me?" My voice rose.

"I can assure you, miss, this is a good opportunity. We'll provide every support you need."

"You expect me to be excited over a sponsorship deal?"

"I've sent the contract terms to you. Do give me a call if you change your mind." And the line went dead.

A beep, and a contract file appeared on my screen. I couldn't be bothered to read it. I locked my phone and walked into my apartment.

The reek of alcohol hit me, and I could've thrown up right there. My father was lying on the floor. I nudged him until he opened his eyes to look at me.

"There's my baby star," he said, a smile plastered across his face. You'd think a man who once held so much power wouldn't have been reduced to this — a gambling addict, a drunk.

"I told you not to sleep in the living room," I said, pulling him up and steering him toward his room.

"What would I do without you? Your mother abandoned me. You're my only hope," he said, laughing in between the words.

Mother left us after the misfortune. Her last call was the last thing I remembered of her — we hadn't seen her since.

I sighed, dropped him onto his bed, and made my way to my own room, collapsing onto the mattress.

The day's events came back to me. My conversation with the company head, his words the same as always — "Maybe next time, Maria. The important roles are already taken. Next project, I promise."

Should I quit acting? I wondered, opening my phone and staring at the contract. A sponsorship. That was my last thought before sleep took me.

There was a loud bang on the door — a sound that always made my skin crawl. I got up from my bed. This scene wasn't new anymore.

My father on the floor, Eric the loan collector's leg pressed over his neck. The first time this happened, I was scared. Now I was just tired.

"There's our actress," he said, as his boys laughed their way into the living room. "Though I wouldn't call you a proper one," he added, letting go of my dad and stepping toward me.

"I'm paying the debt off. What's the meaning of this?" I said, unable to hide the anger in my voice.

"You always had such a sharp mouth," he said. "That mouth could be used for something else." He glanced down at himself.

Bastard, I thought, staring straight at him. His hand found its way to my chin.

"Guess your face isn't unique enough to make it as a celebrity," he said.

"Don't say that about my daughter," my father said, still on his knees.

I couldn't tell if this man was stupid, or if it was just his pride talking.

"It's merely twenty thousand dollars. Maria will pay it off," my father said, with a confidence that made me turn toward him.

"Really now? Guess our actress made it," Eric said, letting go of my cheek and turning on my father, knocking him to the ground.

"He doesn't mean that," I said, and Eric kicked him.

"So you're saying the old man's lying?" he said, hitting him again and again.

"What the fuck — stop that!" I yelled, and a slap cracked across my face.

"Just because I like you a bit, you and your father take me for some kind of joke," he said, grabbing me by the throat.

"Our actress, do well to pay up, okay? You don't want us to go the harsh way." A knife pressed against my stomach, my body trembling. My father lay on the floor, blood pooling around him.

Eric let go of me, and I fell to the floor, gasping for air. The sound of their footsteps leaving the apartment didn't stop the chills running down my spine.

I could only look at my father, not knowing what to do. But his breathing was steady.

The living room was a mess, and I was cleaning the wounds on my father's face. He was smiling at me, but I couldn't bring myself to return it.

A part of me blamed him. But this man loved me, and I knew that.

"Aren't you going to do it?" my father said. I didn't quite get what he meant.

"The sponsorship. I heard actors who do that make it," he said, and I paused to look at him.

I wish I could've seen what expression I was making, but that feeling of vomit was there.

"How do you know about that?" I asked.

"There was a contract sent over today, for you," he said, avoiding my gaze.

"Do you know what a sponsorship deal is?" I asked, hoping this was some kind of joke.

"Honey, it's just sex. Your body isn't going to change or anything. A lot of actors do that." His hand held mine, his gaze holding what I knew well: greed.

"It's really nothing new. We can't keep living like this."

I pulled my hands away from his. I knew he wanted the glory of the Moore family back — the respect, our name that once carried fortunes. I wanted that too. But this shouldn't be how, right?

"You're the last person I expected to hear this shit from," I screamed, getting up and heading to my room. I slammed the door, but it wouldn't close.

I stared at the contract until sunrise, and as ridiculous as it sounded, when morning came, I called the number.

I'd always been surrounded by tall buildings like this one, but it had only taken a year for me to feel intimidated walking into a place like this. It wasn't anything unique, honestly. But my head wouldn't stay up.

I was directed to an office. The door opened without a sound, and closed just as quietly behind me. Inside, a man sat reading over a file. The secretary who'd brought me stood by the door.

As I watched the man behind the desk, he looked about my age, yet carried an authority far beyond it.

"You've gone through the contract, I suppose," he said, setting the file down on the table.

His brown eyes looked impatient, and I could feel my body fidgeting.

I've come this far, I thought.

His sudden movement made me flinch, and I looked up properly. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I swallowed hard as he leaned back in his chair.

"Take off your clothes," he said.

My body trembled. I searched his face, trying to read him, but his expression gave nothing away. The longer he stared at me, the tighter my chest became.