CHAPTER 1
959 Words
Carolina's POV:
It was Friday evening. After an unsuccessful job hunt, I returned home and found my mother, Lilian Edmond, standing at the front door.
"Carolina, you useless girl! You're 26 years old, yet you have no job or boyfriend. You can't keep eating in this house with us. Get out!" my mother shouted, glaring at me.
"Mom," I said, standing speechless in front of her as she refused to let me inside.
My mother was a 48-year-old, chubby woman. She wore a blue dress that fell past her knees, while I was dressed in an old, faded brown skirt and a yellow top, a brown bag slung over my shoulder.
"Carolina, you're not entering this house tonight. Go back out and look for a job. If you don't find one, then don't come home again. If your father and I had known that sending you to university would be a waste of our hard-earned money, we wouldn't have spent it—we could have saved it for your younger siblings. How do you expect us to keep feeding a grown woman like you? If you don't want to work, then stay outside!" My mother slammed the door in my face and retreated into the rented apartment we shared in the neighborhood.
Sighing, I stood outside in the compound, staring at the closed door while neighbors peeked at me from their windows.
I had graduated with a degree in business administration, but so far, I hadn't been able to secure a decent job. The city was tough, and my job search had been fruitless.
My parents had five children, and I was the eldest, with two younger sisters and two young brothers. At 26 years old, I had nothing serious going on in my life.
I turned and walked out of the gate, heading back to the road. My mother shouldered all our family's responsibilities, while my father was just a deadbeat who didn't truly care. He came home only to eat, and we might not see him for days.
As I stood by the roadside, watching the busy traffic and the cars speeding by, I pulled out my phone and saw that it was after 8 p.m. I had visited every employment agency I could find, but nothing had panned out.
Shutting my eyes against the painful reality, I dialed my best friend, Lucy Campbell. She worked at a club, and I was sure she could help me find a way to pay my bills.
"Hello, Lucy," I said when she picked up.
"Carolina? What's wrong?" Lucy asked, her voice urgent.
"I'm homeless. Can I come stay at your place?" I asked, fighting back sobs.
"Why? What happened with your family this time? Your mom threw you out? It's 8 p.m.—how can she send you away at night?" Lucy demanded, and I tried not to sniffle.
"I can't blame her. The economy is too hard right now, and Mom is doing her best. I need to get a job. If I can find one tonight, I don't mind," I told her, finally letting the tears fall.
"It's alright, Caro. Actually, I'm at work right now. Can you come to The Blues Clubhouse? It's the biggest club in town. I'll talk to my boss and see if he'll hire you. But you have to speak like a professional—like me. That way, he'll be more likely to employ you. Also, you need to be friendly with the male clients. You'll have to endure their touches and how they interact with you."
"Really? I have to do all that just to get the job? Will it involve kissing or anything?" I asked, my heart pounding.
"No! What's wrong with you, Carolina? You'll just have to put on a smiling face. Well, you know you're a pretty woman, so some of the men might ask you out," she said, and I thought about it.
"I don't have a problem with that. What matters is that I earn some money, even if it means selling my body. I feel like such a failure right now," I told Lucy as I sobbed.
"It's okay, Caro. You're not a failure. Where are you? Start heading over. Do you have transport fare, or should I send you some money? I don't have much to spare right now—my sister's wedding is next month, and I need to save for it."
"Alright. I'll pay you back. Please, help me, Lucy. You're my only best friend," I told her, and she laughed over the phone with her contagious laughter.
"Don't mention it. I'm sure I'm not your only friend. Anyway, I'll send the money now. Get here quickly." Lucy's words felt like a final push, and she knew how desperately I'd been trying—and failing—to find work.
I sighed and paced along the road until my phone buzzed with a message alert: 5,000 units. I smiled; it was more than I needed, but I knew I had to pay Lucy back.
Looking down the road, I hailed a taxi and told the driver, "To The Blues Clubhouse."
The taxi driver eyed me from head to toe. "Are you sure you're going to the Blues Club dressed like that?" he asked suspiciously, and I frowned.
"Why? I'm just going to meet a friend," I replied, and he shrugged.
"Get in. That's not my problem. But your fare is 1,500."
"Why? Isn't it 500?" I asked, and his eyes darkened.
"You can walk if you want. Why take a taxi?" he said coldly, and I frowned.
"It's fine. Take me to the club," I told him, getting into the car. He nodded, started the car, and drove off toward The Blues Clubhouse.
- Writer
