LYRA’S POV
The days blurred into a rhythm of early alarms, stiff office clothes, and the quiet hum of Blackwood Capital. I didn’t go back to Onyx. I was too tired, my mind too full of spreadsheets and meeting notes and the careful, distant politeness of my new colleagues. But a part of me missed it. Missed the loud music, the anonymity of the stage, the simple transaction of a look for a tip. Here, every glance felt loaded. Every word felt like a test.
It was late, past ten. I’d been in my room, trying to read a textbook for a class I was already falling behind in. My eyes kept closing. I gave up, deciding to go to the kitchen for some tea, something to settle the restless, empty feeling in my chest.
The hallway was dark, thick carpet swallowing the sound of my steps. As I neared the cl
