Mira kept staring and blinking. As if this had to be some sort of a joke.
Or more acceptably, a nightmare.
"Okay, okay! Calm down, Mira. Calm down. Maybe she keeps nothing in this one. Let's try the other cards." She muttered to herself crazily.
And then she tried another card. Yet the screen glowed with $0:00 again.
She slapped the side of the machine like it was a broken vending machine. "Work, you stupid thing!"
She then tried another card only to get the same result.
And another.
Each beep of rejection felt like a punch to her gut.
From behind her, the cab driver blared the horn at her. "HEY! Are you gonna pay me or what, princess? I don't got all day!"
But Mira's mind was reeling!
Wasn't this the same woman on every red carpet just months ago? The one paid to wear the biggest designers?
Where on earth did all the millions go? Did they just evaporate?
Mira could not believe it. It was so impossible that such a famous and rich woman had not even a penny in her account.
"Even I managed to save a few bucks despite all my bankruptcy!" She muttered to herself.
"But the Lorena Sanders has nothing?"
Had she been reborn into a famous and beautiful woman only to be broke yet again?
The cab driver blared the horn a second time behind her. "Hey! You better not be wasting my darn time! Celebrity or not!" He yelled.
"The… the system is broken!" She yelled back, even though her voice was squeaking.
The driver laughed in a loud and ugly manner. "Yeah right! The system is always broken for rich girls like you who can't pay! Hurry the fuck up!"
Already panicking, Mira dove back into the fancy purse as her fingers scrambled past lipsticks and keys.
Finally, in a hidden zipper pocket, she felt it. A pathetic crumpled wad of cash.
She pulled it out and it was mostly small bills. Bills that were enough only for a few meals. Not nearly enough for anything else, not even a roof for a night.
The cab driver honked again, longer this time. "I'm calling the cops!"
"Ugh! Here!" She snapped, stomping back to the cab and shoving the entire wad of money through his window. "Take it and just… go."
He snatched the cash and counted it quickly with a sneer. "Cheapskate!" He snapped and then slammed the car into gear and zoomed away.
The tire spun on the wet pavement and intentionally splashed a wave of dirty street water all over her expensive silky pants.
Mira stood there, alone on the curb, soaked and humiliated.
A deep, gnawing ache in her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten in… how long? Since she died? Aside from what they would have been passing into her at the hospital.
"Damn, I should have at least eaten the hospital food before leaving," she muttered to herself as she clutched her stomach. "Even if it would be tasteless, at least it would be free."
She checked the purse again, desperately hoping that she'd missed a hidden hundred dollar bill at least, but there was nothing.
There were only makeup and a bunch of useless loyalty cards for stores she'd never be able to afford now.
Mira did not know how long she remained close to the ATM stand and tried several hundred times again and again until she noticed that the day was almost morphing into night.
She was also getting so dizzy and was starving. Her fancy clothes were now sticky and dirty. Yet she had nowhere to go. She couldn't even think of what to do.
Then her eyes caught a flickering neon sign up the road. RED OWL MOTEL.
The "O" in OWL was burnt out and it looked less like a place to sleep and more like a place people went to get murdered.
"Well, at least, I might be able to afford to sleep and eat something here," she mumbled as she pulled the scarf she had used at the hospital over her head once again and even higher around her face.
She was sure she looked less like an disguised celebrity and more like a bank robber right now.
She soon got to the motel and behind the counter was an old man with yellowed teeth and a stained shirt that was already half asleep, even though he was pretending to be lazily flipping through a well-worn magazine.
Mira walked up to the counter and slapped down a few bills and coins she had left from the purse and they made a sad pathetic clinking sound.
"One night and dinner," she said, trying to sound confident even though she was failing miserably at it.
The old man glanced down at all she dropped, then back up at her with a snort. "Is that a joke? These aren't even enough for a meal, much more a room?"
The man said it loud enough for attention from the few people in the lobby to pile on Mira.
She moved even closer to the man, hoping he would take the hint and reduce his voice. "Uhm, can I pay the rest later? I would never run away with your money," she whispered while looking around nervously.
"This ain't a charity, lady. Not even politicians get discounts here. It's always cash. And upfront. Or nothing."
The man responded loudly yet again.
Mira felt like the room was tilting. Dizziness from hunger, exhaustion, and every single thing she had faced in only hours crashed over her.
She gripped the counter to stay upright. "Look, it's me, Lorena Sanders. I'm in dire need and would never run with your money. I honestly don't even need hot water," she bargained, her voice getting desperate. "And you can keep the blankets or whatever. I don't mind a basement even!"
The old man squinted at her, his eyes lingering on her face, and for a second, it looked like he recognized her and would take the offer.
But he just shook his head and snorted again dismissively. "Yeah right! And I'm the King of England!"
Just as she was about to plead again, two men in greasy stained work uniforms shuffled in.
They smelled like a mix of sweat, cheap beer, and engine oil.
One had a huge beer belly stretching to its limits and the other was skinny and mean-looking with a few teeth missing.
They both stopped dead when they saw her.
Beer belly elbowed his friend. "Well, I'll be damned. Look what the cat dragged in. Isn't that Lorena Sanders?"
The skinny one's nasty grin widened. "No fucking way!"
Every pair of eyes in the tiny lobby was now on her, including the old receptionist's who was suddenly very awake.
"What's a star doing in a dump like this?" Beer belly jeered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Hollywood kick you out?"
"Heard you got dumped by every brand and you're getting sued. Who could have thought you indeed went broke like they say?" The skinny one added, stepping closer.
"You must be looking for new ways to make money now, huh?"
Mira's blood ran cold. Why did these psychos know so much about Lorena's scandals?
The skinny man then suddenly leaned in too close, actually sniffing her hair. "So you can't even pay for a room in this cheap motel? Damn, sweetheart. Guess that pretty face finally downgraded so much."
Beer belly suddenly moved to block her path to the door. "Don't worry," he leered. "You can still earn money the old fashioned way."
He then reached out as his dirty fingers grabbed her arm. His grip was tight and almost bruising.
"How about you give us a taste of what you sell to those rich men?" Beer belly said again with a disgusting smirk. "And in return, we'll cover your stay here for a week, uh?"