The pain in her ribs had faded, but the ache in her chest remained. Rose sat quietly on the edge of her small bed, the springs beneath her creaking as if echoing her thoughts. Her fingers twisted nervously around the hem of her faded blue gown—her only decent nightwear. Her eyes, dull and tired, stared at the wall in front of her. Blank.
She had finally returned to the Moonlight Bar after two weeks of bed rest from the accident. She wasn't fully healed, but she needed her job. Or so she thought.
"Rose, you didn't show up for two weeks, not even a call," her manager barked. "This is a business, not a charity. I'm sorry, but you're fired."
Fired.
Just like that.
No explanations. No concern. Just an erasure of the five years she had given to that place—serving drinks, handling drunks, dealing with harassment—all gone in seconds.
She walked out without a word, holding back tears. It wasn't the bar she was sad for. It was what it meant.
No income.
And without income, how would she take care of Mama, whose hospital bills kept piling up? How would she pay kelvin's school fees—her 10-year-old baby brother who still believed in her like she was a superhero?
She had dreams once. To go to the university. To wear a graduation gown and make her mother proud. But poverty had clipped those dreams before they ever took flight.
Now, at twenty-three, all she had was a broken body, a fired job, and an empty fridge.
She hadn't eaten all day. Again.
Just as she was about to collapse into silent tears, her phone buzzed beside her.
Lisa.
Her best friend. Her only real friend.
Unlike Rose, Lisa was doing well. A university graduate with a decent job, an apartment with running water and electricity, and a wardrobe full of actual options. But despite the difference in their lives, Lisa had never once looked down on her. She was kind, real, and loyal to the bone.
Rose quickly answered, trying not to sound too broken.
"Hello?"
"Rose!!!" Lisa's voice chirped through the speaker, full of excitement. "Guess what?"
"What?" Rose asked softly, her voice flat from exhaustion.
"I got you a job!" Lisa squealed.
Rose blinked. "Wait—what? What do you mean?"
"I mean I found something online, applied for you, and they got back to me. It's a waitress job at LMD Bar and Suites!"
Rose froze.
"LMD? The LMD?" she gasped.
Lisa giggled. "Yes, the one you see on TV. The one you drool over every time we pass it by. Girl, you're going to be working there!"
Rose screamed.
For the first time in weeks, her voice was filled with joy. She jumped up, nearly knocking over her stool.
"Lisa! Are you serious?!"
"One hundred percent. You start in a month. That's their process. Paperwork, clearance, orientation—all done. Just be ready to shine."
Tears of gratitude pooled in her eyes.
"I don't even know how to thank you," she whispered.
"Then don't. Just succeed, Rose. That's all I ask."
---
A month passed slowly. Rose counted every day like it was gold.
And then, the day came.
Her first day at LMD Bar and Suites.
She stood in front of the magnificent glass building, jaw slack. It looked even more beautiful than on TV—massive, sleek, and polished like the future she had only dreamed of.
As she stepped inside, the scent of vanilla, roses, and luxury hit her nose. The marble floors gleamed like stars under her shoes. Crystal chandeliers hung from above. Laughter, music, and the distant clatter of expensive cutlery filled the air.
She blinked.
Pinched her cheek.
Was this real?
She stood in the center of the lobby, overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, until—
"Hey, are you the new girl?"
A voice sliced through her daze. She turned sharply.
A woman with fiery red hair, a figure that could stop traffic, and a red silk mini dress stood before her with a clipboard.
"Rose Adams, right?" the woman asked, her glossy lips curled into a teasing smirk.
Rose nodded, dumbfounded by how flawless this stranger looked.
"So, this building isn't just beautiful—the people inside are goddesses too?" she mumbled to herself.
"Yes… I'm Rose. I cam—I mean, I came—"
"Follow me. The VIPs will be arriving soon," the woman cut her off briskly and began walking without waiting for an answer.
Rose hurried behind her, stunned.
VIPs? What did that even mean?
The woman led her into a golden hallway and opened a side door. Rose stopped in her tracks.
The room sparkled like a movie set. There were at least twenty young women inside, each sitting before tall, glowing mirrors as professional makeup artists worked on them with brushes, glitters, and lashes. The girls were her age, maybe younger, but looked like models. Their skin gleamed, their nails sparkled, and their hair shimmered like silk.
Before she could catch her breath, the red-haired woman tossed a silky red dress at her.
"Put this on. You'll be attending to the VIPs tonight."
"VIPs?" Rose echoed, still processing everything.
"You're lucky. Some of these girls have worked here for over a year and haven't gotten this chance. But you? First day? You must be a lucky bitch," she said with a laugh, flipping her hair before walking off.
Rose stood there, stunned, dress in hand.
She didn't feel lucky.
She felt lost.
What exactly was she stepping into?
She made her way to the dressing room. As she opened the closet door, two girls were locked in a kiss, their hands roaming each other.
She gasped and quickly turned her eyes away, murmuring, "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
They giggled and didn't even bother stopping.
Her cheeks burned as she shut the door behind her.
This was not the world she was used to. Not even close.
But one thing was clear.
This place… this job… wasn't going to be ordinary.
And maybe neither was her life from now on.