Irene stared at the woman in front of her, shock coursing through her veins. It felt like looking into a mirror—similar features, same piercing gaze, but a world of difference in how they carried themselves. The woman recovered from her initial shock almost instantly, her expression twisting into disgust as her eyes raked over Irene’s stained uniform and tired face.
Irene shifted uncomfortably, instinctively trying to cover the bloodstains on her shirt with her hands. This is crazy. This can’t be real.
“Do I… know you?” Irene blurted out before she could stop herself.
The woman scoffed, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off her designer coat. “I don’t know how the hell we look alike, but I’m certain I don’t want anything to do with the likes of you.” Her voice was ice, cutting through the air like a blade.
Irene barely had time to process the words before the woman turned on her heel, ready to leave. Panic surged in Irene’s chest. She couldn’t let this moment slip away. Without thinking, she reached out, lightly grabbing her arm.
The reaction was instant.
“How dare you put your filthy hands on me?” The woman snapped, her voice sharp enough to draw attention.
Irene flinched at the venom in her tone, but before she could say anything, the door burst open, and a woman in a sleek black suit rushed in.
Miss Giselle! Are you okay? I heard you—” The woman’s words faltered as her eyes landed on Irene. Her brows furrowed, and she glanced between the two women, clearly struggling to process what she was seeing.
“Miss Giselle…” she hesitated, then asked in disbelief, “Are you two… twins?”
Irene’s breath caught in her throat. Twins?
Giselle’s entire body stiffened. “Let’s go,” she muttered, brushing past the security guard without another glance at Irene. But Irene caught it—the slight tremor in her hand as she reached for the door handle.
She was scared.
The security officer took over, opening it for her. Without sparing another glance at Irene, Giselle strode out of the restroom.
Irene just stood there, her mind racing.
A twin? No. Her mother never mentioned one. But then again, there were a lot of things her mother never mentioned.
Or maybe it was just a coincidence? A doppelgänger?
A sharp buzz from her pocket yanked her back to reality. She pulled out her phone and squinted at the screen—her high school group chat. Not again. No matter how many times she left, someone always added her back.
This time, the message was about a reunion.
"For those in town, let’s meet up at Luxe Bar tonight. It’s been too long! Drinks on me!
Irene exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. Yeah, drinks on them while they show off their wealth and talk about how my family fell from grace.
Her fingers hovered over the "exit group" button, but then she paused. Wait.
A bar full of rich former classmates…
People who love throwing money around…
The gears in her head turned. She hated the idea, but she was desperate. If I go, maybe I can borrow some money before Badur and his gang come knocking again.
She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, straightening her shoulders. “You got this,” she whispered to herself. “Swallow your pride.”
She went back to work, and when her shift ended, she borrowed a dress from Jules.
“Oh my God, I love it when you let me dress you up!” Jules twirled around her, admiring the look. “You look like an heiress.”
Irene let out a dry laugh. “If someone hears you, they’d think I’m dripping in diamonds. It’s just a simple dress.”
Jules grinned. “Well, my dear Irene, you make everything look glamorous—even our ugly uniform.”
Irene laughed harder this time. “Now I know you’re teasing me.”
“Nope, just facts.” Jules winked.
Irene checked her phone—it was time. As she grabbed her purse, Jules smirked. “Hope you find a sugar daddy who throws money like confetti.”
Irene burst into laughter. “Me too.”
******
The moment she arrived at Luxe Bar, nerves crept up her spine. The music was loud, the air thick with perfume and alcohol.
She hesitated at the entrance. She could still turn back.
No. She inhaled deeply. I have to do this.
Plastering a fake smile on her face, she stepped inside, scanning the room for an easy target.
But then she saw him.
Joe.
Her stomach twisted.
Back in high school, there had been… something. A connection. It never became anything, but they had liked each other. Then her family lost everything, and she never saw him again.
She immediately looked away, pretending not to see him.
Instead, she focused on a table where a group of girls sat, sipping on expensive cocktails.
The cheerleaders.
She recognized most of them—some she had been close with, some she had barely spoken to.She started toward them but stopped short when she heard a familiar voice.
May.
Her stomach clenched. Of all people…
Before she could turn away, May spotted her. “Irene! Oh my God, come sit with us!”
Irene forced a polite smile and walked over. “It’s nice seeing you all again.”
May’s smile was all teeth, her voice dripping with fake concern. “After everything you’ve been through, I’m so glad you’re doing well.”
Irene clenched her fists under the table. Fake bitch.
May reached for her hand dramatically. “I was so devastated when you left school.”
Devastated my ass. May had been thrilled to have Irene out of the picture—everyone knew she wanted Joe.
May was thriving on her downfall.
But if she wanted money, she had to play along.
She swallowed her pride and forced the words out.
“May… could you lend me some money?”
Silence.
The whispers started immediately.
“I knew she was here to beg.”
“She has no shame.”
Irene ignored them. “Three thousand dollars,” she continued. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. Please.”
May’s smile widened.
“Oh, darling. Of course, I’ll help.” She leaned in, squeezing Irene’s hand. “But you’ll have to work for it.”
Irene’s nails dug into her palm.
“Fine. I’ll do anything.”
May’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “How about this? If you drink this entire jar of wine and give us a little dance, I’ll make it five thousand.”
Irene stared at the enormous jar.
Laughter erupted around the table.
“Scared?” May taunted. She raised an eyebrow, then smirked and pulled out a stack of cash. "Deal?”
Irene grabbed the jar and started drinking.
The table exploded with cheers.
“Chug! Chug! Chug!”
The first sip burned.
By the third, her vision blurred.
By the time she reached the bottom, the world was spinning.
The crowd banged the table, chanting. "Dance! Dance!"
Irene stumbled to her feet, wobbling.
The music pounded in her ears.
But she danced.
Laughter. Flashing cameras.
She didn’t care.
She just needed the money.
She was mid-spin when she tripped, falling—
Strong arms caught her.
She blinked up, her vision hazy.
Joe?
His voice was sharp. “Irene, stop this nonsense—”
She yanked her hand away.
“Let go.”
He did.
She turned back to May, swaying on her feet.
“I did what you asked.”
May smirked, pulling out the cash and handing it over.
Irene clutched the bills, shoving them into her purse.
She stumbled toward the exit.
Joe tried to follow, but she shoved his hands away. “I’m fine.”
The cold night air hit her as she staggered outside.
The world tilted beneath her.
She was falling—
Until she crashed into something solid.
No.
Not something.
Someone.