Episode2
1438 Words
Maya woke up before her alarm.
For a few seconds, she stayed still beneath the thin blanket, staring at the faint c***k running across the ceiling above her bed.
The house was quiet.
Not peaceful.
Just sleeping.
There was a difference.
She turned her head toward the window. Early morning light spilled through the curtains in pale streaks, softening the small room enough to make it feel less lonely than it usually did.
Then her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
6:12 AM.
A text from Vanessa.
«Coffee. Extra oat milk. And don’t burn the eggs again.»
Maya closed her eyes briefly.
No good morning.
No please.
Just another task waiting for her before sunrise.
She sat up slowly, tying her hair into a loose knot as she reached for the oversized hoodie hanging off the chair nearby. The floorboards were cold beneath her feet.
Downstairs, the mansion smelled faintly of stale champagne and expensive perfume left over from the party.
The cleaners wouldn’t arrive until later.
Which meant the kitchen looked like a disaster zone.
Maya moved through it quietly anyway, collecting empty glasses as she waited for the coffee machine to finish brewing.
Outside the windows, Manhattan was beginning to wake. Cars slid through wet streets below the hill. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed briefly before disappearing again.
The eggs sizzled softly in the pan.
Maya leaned against the counter while the toast browned, exhaustion still heavy behind her eyes.
She hadn’t slept much.
Every time she closed her eyes, she kept replaying last night in flashes.
The spill.
Vanessa’s voice.
Adrian asking if she was okay.
Her stomach tightened a little at the memory.
Not because it was romantic.
Because it was strange.
People like Adrian Vale didn’t notice people like her.
And yet he had looked directly at her like she was an actual person standing in front of him.
Not staff.
Not background.
A person.
It unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
“Why are you standing there like a ghost?”
Maya looked up quickly.
Vanessa entered the kitchen wearing silk pajamas and oversized sunglasses despite the fact that it was barely morning. Her hair was messy in that deliberate way rich girls somehow made fashionable.
“You took forever,” she muttered, dropping onto a stool.
“It’s been ten minutes.”
“Well, it felt longer.”
Maya slid the plate toward her without responding.
Vanessa picked at the eggs absentmindedly while scrolling through her phone.
Then she smirked.
“Oh my God.”
Maya poured herself coffee. “What?”
Vanessa turned the screen around.
A blurry video from last night filled the display.
The moment Maya spilled champagne on Adrian had somehow made it online already.
The caption read:
«MYSTERY GIRL spills drink on Adrian Vale at Vanessa Bennett’s private party.»
Comments flooded beneath it.
«“Who is she?”
“Wait she’s actually pretty.”
“Adrian looked concerned omg.”
“Vanessa seemed annoyed 😬”»
Maya felt heat crawl up her neck immediately.
“People seriously post everything,” Vanessa scoffed, clearly more irritated than embarrassed. “This is why I hate random staff being around industry events.”
Maya’s fingers tightened slightly around her mug.
Random staff.
Vanessa didn’t even glance at her while saying it.
The weird part was that it still hurt.
Even after all these years.
Vanessa refreshed the page again.
“Somebody literally commented that you and Adrian looked cute together.” She barked out a laugh. “The internet is so embarrassing.”
Maya turned toward the sink before Vanessa could see her expression.
“People say stupid things online.”
“Exactly.” Vanessa stabbed at her avocado toast. “Besides, Adrian barely notices anybody. He’s allergic to emotional connection.”
Maya almost smiled at that.
Not because it was funny.
Because somehow, she didn’t think Vanessa knew him at all.
“Anyway,” Vanessa continued, “I need you to come to rehearsal today.”
Maya blinked. “Why?”
“My assistant canceled.”
“You have three assistants.”
“And all of them are useless.” Vanessa finally looked up. “So congratulations. You’re being promoted.”
Maya leaned against the counter. “Doing what exactly?”
“Carrying my things. Keeping people away from me when I’m changing. Getting coffee. Normal stuff.”
“Vanessa—”
“Oh, relax. You should be grateful. Most girls would kill to be backstage at the Aurora rehearsals.”
Maya looked down into her coffee.
That wasn’t entirely untrue.
A small part of her immediately pictured the stage.
The dancers.
The music.
The feeling of being close to something she had wanted her whole life.
And she hated herself a little for how quickly hope rose inside her.
Vanessa noticed the hesitation instantly.
A slow smile curved her lips.
“Wait,” she said. “You actually want to go?”
Maya’s expression closed off immediately. “I didn’t say that.”
Vanessa laughed softly and stood, carrying her plate toward the sink without bothering to rinse it.
“Don’t get too excited,” she said lightly. “People like us belong onstage.”
She glanced at Maya then.
“People like you don’t.”
The kitchen fell quiet.
Vanessa walked out before Maya answered.
The silence she left behind somehow felt louder than the insult itself.
Maya stared at the untouched coffee in her hands.
Then slowly set the mug down.
---
By afternoon, the Bennett mansion buzzed with post-party cleanup and nonstop phone calls.
Maya spent most of it organizing Vanessa’s rehearsal outfits into garment bags while trying not to think too hard about anything.
Which was difficult.
Because her mind kept drifting.
Toward the stage.
Toward Adrian.
Toward the version of herself she only allowed to exist after midnight inside empty dance studios.
A knock sounded against her bedroom door before she could spiral too far into thought.
It opened without waiting for permission.
Jordan Reyes leaned against the frame holding an iced coffee and a camera bag.
“You look tragic,” he announced.
Maya let out a quiet laugh despite herself. “Nice to see you too.”
Jordan stepped inside, taking in the room with familiar eyes. He’d been one of the only people allowed into her space for years now.
He held out the coffee. “Peace offering.”
“You’re my favorite person.”
“I know.”
She took the drink gratefully while he dropped into the desk chair near the window.
Jordan studied her for a second.
“You didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did the internet apparently.”
He grinned immediately. “Oh, you saw the Adrian video?”
Maya groaned. “Please don’t start.”
“Too late.” Jordan pulled out his phone dramatically. “Social media has spoken. You’re officially ‘mystery girl with sad eyes.’”
“Jordan.”
“What? That’s literally one of the comments.”
She threw a pillow at him.
He caught it easily, laughing.
The sound softened something tight in her chest.
Jordan had always been like this—warm without forcing it, teasing without cruelty. Being around him felt easy in a way most things in her life didn’t.
Then his smile faded slightly.
“She made you feel bad again, didn’t she?”
Maya looked away toward the window.
That was answer enough.
Jordan sighed quietly.
“One day,” he said, “I’m going to say exactly what I think to your cousin.”
“She’d survive it.”
“Barely.”
That earned another small laugh from her.
Jordan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Seriously though. You okay?”
Maya hesitated.
Then shrugged lightly.
“I’m used to her.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s okay.”
The room went still for a moment.
Maya picked at the sleeve of her hoodie.
“I’m going to the rehearsal with her today.”
Jordan blinked. “Wait. Really?”
“She needs another assistant.”
A look crossed his face immediately.
The kind that said he understood what she wasn’t saying out loud.
“You’re excited,” he said softly.
Maya opened her mout
h to deny it.
Stopped.
Then sighed.
“A little.”
Jordan smiled slowly. “Good.”
“She’ll ruin it somehow.”
“Probably,” he admitted. “But maybe not all of it.”
Maya looked down at her coffee.
Hope was dangerous in that house.
Still…
for the first time in a long time, something inside her felt awake
- Writer
