Elena's shoes scraped against the cracked sidewalk, each step heavier than the last. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet, but the tears refused to stop.
She tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand, but they kept coming, stubborn like her life's misfortunes.
Rent. Food. Medicine. No job.
The weight sat on her chest like a stone.
She dropped onto a public bench, ignoring the peeling paint and the smell of roasted corn from the nearby vendor. People walked by, laughing, holding hands, living lives that looked so much easier than hers.
She hugged her arms around her knees, her face buried, and whispered into the hollow air:
"Why me? Why always me?"
Her parents' faces floated into her mind. The accident. The twisted wreckage of the car. She had been too young to understand, but she still remembered the pain.
She had promised herself she'd make them proud one day. And now? She could barely keep a roof over her aunt's head.
She gave a hollow laugh through her tears. "Look at me, Mama. Look at me, Papa. Crying on a street corner like a rejected tomato."
Her stomach growled. The sound made her laugh harder, almost hysterically, until people glanced her way. She covered her face, muttering, "Great. Now they think I've gone mad. Maybe I have."
She forced herself up and dragged her feet to her second job—a small printing shop where she sometimes typed and filed for the owner.
The bell above the door jingled weakly as she entered. "Good evening, sir," she said softly, her voice polite despite the storm in her chest.
The owner, a balding man in his fifties with a beer belly and greedy eyes, looked her up and down in a way that made her skin crawl. "Elena," he said with a grin that made her want to run. "You're late."
"I—I came as fast as I could."
He waved his hand dismissively and leaned against the counter, telling her to come to his office, she followed behind.
"Forget the work today. I've been thinking… if you really want to keep this job, there are other ways you can… cooperate."
Her blood turned cold. "Sir?"
He stepped closer, his hand reaching for her arm. "Don't act innocent. You're a pretty girl. Lonely. I can pay you more than typing ever will. Just give me a night."
When his fingers brushed her sleeve, something inside Elena snapped. She slapped him across the face with all the strength she had. The crack echoed through the empty shop.
The man staggered, clutching his cheek. His face turned red with anger. "You little witch!" he spat. "You're fired! Get out—before I call the police and tell them you tried to seduce me!"
Elena blinked in disbelief. First shock. Then laughter bubbled out of her throat—high, bitter, broken. She laughed until she cried again.
"Perfect," she whispered, wiping at her face as she stumbled out. "Two jobs in one day. Fired for being too poor and for not being… easy."
The night had swallowed the city by the time she reached Eclipse Club for her final shift. Her heart pounded with dread.
The whole day had been a nightmare. She just wanted to clean, collect scraps of money, and go home.
But the moment she entered, the manager was waiting, wringing his hands nervously.
"Elena," he said quickly, pulling her aside. His voice was too eager, too desperate.
"Listen, I have an opportunity for you. Cooperate with me, and you'll be paid double… no, triple!"
Her brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
The man's eyes darted around before he leaned closer, whispering like he was offering gold. "One night with Mr. Volkov. Just one. Do it, and you'll never have to worry about rent again."
Elena's stomach dropped. She stumbled back a step. "What?!"
"Don't be stupid, girl. Do you know how many women would kill for this chance? He wants you. Just… agree.
Think of your aunt! Think of the money!" His voice grew frantic, his hand reaching as if to grab her arm.
"Stop it!" Elena cried, shaking her head. "I'm not for sale. I'd rather starve than—than"
The manager's face twisted. "Ungrateful little brat! Do you think you'll survive in this city without help?" He took a threatening step forward.
Elena didn't wait. She shoved past him and bolted, her heart thundering in her ears. She didn't stop running until she was outside in the cool night air, gasping, clutching her chest.