"You'll never get rich by being an online writer. Look at you, Olivia—you still owe me money." Bianca, Olivia's old college friend, sneered with that familiar superiority.
Olivia, twenty-seven years old and already exhausted with life itself, let out a frustrated sigh. "At least I always pay you back on time," she said.
Bianca folded her arms, tilting her chin high as if she was some queen. "For how long? You've been living like this every month. Barely surviving with your so-called writing. Why not get a proper job? Writing online novels barely pays! Unless you're lucky and go viral, you'll stay poor forever."
She should know. Bianca used to be an online writer herself. But she quit after realizing how brutal the competition was. Readers preferred steamy CEO romances over horror or mystery stories—the very genres both Bianca and Olivia loved. Instead of fighting on, Bianca chose a steady paycheck as a corporate slave, and ever since, she had looked down on Olivia for still clinging to her dream.
Olivia clenched her fists under the table, her lips pressed into a thin line. Every time she borrowed money, Bianca's words cut deeper than the debt itself.
"Oh, right," Bianca smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "What's your pen name this time?"
"I can't tell you," Olivia replied flatly.
Bianca narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me… you're writing smut now? Eighteen-plus, with all the dirty scenes?"
"No!" Olivia snapped, then quickly lowered her voice. "Anyway ... thanks for this money. I'll pay you back next month."
Bianca chuckled, clearly entertained by her misery. But Olivia didn't bother to argue. She had no strength left for pride.
***
Life for Olivia was nothing but survival. She juggled two jobs—writing web novels and working as a private English tutor. Yet neither brought her wealth. Her writing income wasn't even enough for a bowl of meatball soup unless readers unlocked her chapters. Her tutoring pay only covered rent and daily necessities.
Lying on her narrow bed one night, she groaned, "What else can I do to earn more money?"
Her thoughts hit a wall. Asking her mother back in the countryside was out of the question—too humiliating. Her mother had already spread tales to the entire village that Olivia was "successful" in the city.
"Mom really is a storyteller," Olivia muttered bitterly. "Too bad she passed down her talent instead of wealth."
Her gaze fell on her laptop screen, where her newest novel was displayed on the platform. A cold CEO romance—the very kind of story she despised. Olivia loved horror and mystery, but desperate times forced her to bow down to trends.
"Ugh! If it wasn't for money, I'd never write trash like this under a fake pen name," she hissed.
Still, her CEO novel earned her slightly more than her horror stories. Slowly, her income climbeb, but not nearly enough to lift her from poverty.
Olivia rolled on her side and stared at the cracked ceiling of her tiny rented room. Only one thought consumed her mind: What job will finally make me rich?
***
The next morning, Olivia trudged down the dusty road toward her tutoring job. She had chosen this boarding house because it was cheap and only a kilometer away. But even a single kilometer felt endless when you had to walk every single day.
"When will this poverty finally leave my life?" she muttered.
Just then, a sleek black car stopped beside her. The tinted window rolled down, and a little boy, no older than five, leaned out. His face lit up when he saw her.
"Hi, Miss Olivia! Why are you walking? Where's your car?"
Olivia blinked. "Car? Miss Olivia doesn't have a car, Jayden."
The boy tilted his head innocently. "Oh, so you're poor?"
Olivia's fists clenched so tight her knuckles turned white. In her heart, she screamed, "If you weren't a kid, I'd smack your head right now! Taking a deep breath," she forced a smile.
***
By the time Olivia reached the tutoring center, she was already in a foul mood. But things quickly turned around when her coworker, Riana, pulled her aside.
"Miss, at 12 o'clock, you'll have to go to Vanessa's house. She doesn't want to come here for lessons."
"But why?"
"Her mom prefers private lessons. Vanessa's a bit shy. Her mom will pay extra—two hundred and fifty thousand rupiahs per visit."
Olivia's eyes widened. "Two hundred and fifty rupiahs?"
"Yes."
Her lips spread into the brightest smile she had worn in weeks. Normally, she earned only one hundred to one hundred fifty rupiahs per session. This was double! "Okay, I'll take it!"
***
That afternoon, news of the solar eclipse dominated every TV and social media feed. A total eclipse would pass over the city at exactly noon. Everyone seemed excited, except Olivia.
Money was still her top priority.
"Miss…" A soft, timid voice tugged her attention.
It was Vanessa, the five-year-old student. "I want to swim first."
"Swim? Did your mom allow it?"
"Yes. But she said you have to watch me."
Olivia sighed but nodded. "Alright, I'll keep an eye on you."
***
While Vanessa splashed in the water, Olivia sat by the poolside, scrolling through her phone. Her novel stats stared back at her, the numbers barely moving.
"I think i got wrong genre again," she muttered. "Why am I stuck at this point?"
Suddenly ....
"Miss! Help me!" Vanessa's panicked cries echoed across the pool.
Olivia's heart leapt to her throat. "Oh my God, Vanessa!" She bolted to her feet and jumped into the water without hesitation.
Her arms sliced through the cold pool as she swam toward the flailing child. With a desperate push, she grabbed Vanessa and pulled her toward the edge. Servants rushed over, gasping in horror.
"Here! Take her!" Olivia shouted, shoving the little girl into their arms.
She herself tried to climb out of the pool, but at that exact moment, the sky darkened.
The moon slowly devoured the sun.
"Miss, wear this!" A servant thrust a pair of eclipse glasses into her wet hands.
Olivia slipped them on and tilted her head up. "Whoa! So this is what a solar eclipse looks like?"
The air grew strangely still. The world dimmed into twilight.
But before she could marvel longer ...
Something tugged at her legs. Hard. From beneath the pool.
"What the hell!"
She gasped, thrashing. But the pull grew stronger, dragging her down.
She looked around desperately. Strangely, no one noticed. The servants, the child, everyone ... it was as if they couldn't see her struggling.
Help! Someone help me, please!
Her screams were swallowed by water.
The force yanked her deeper, her lungs burning as she fought.
Am I really going to die this young? No! Please! I haven't even gotten married yet!
Her vision blurred. Her last thought was bitter, desperate, and absurd.
If only I could rewrite my life. I'd be the heroine, not some broke side character.
And then—darkness swallowed her whole.
***