Chapter 2 – Employment Walls
971 Words
**[Morning – City Newspaper Stand]**
Aileen stood in front of a kiosk, fingers smudged with ink as she circled help-wanted ads with a borrowed red pen.
“Dishwasher. Night shift. No experience required," she muttered, drawing a hopeful circle.
The vendor glanced at her. “You'll want to skip that one."
“Why?"
“Owner don't take ex-cons. Especially not... high-profile ones."
Aileen's shoulders tensed. “They know who I am?"
“Everyone in this city does," he said gently. “Your face was on the front page for weeks. Still is, sometimes."
She offered a strained smile. “Thanks."
“Good luck," he said. But he didn't sound like he meant it.
---
**[Job #1 – Pancake Palace]**
Aileen waited in the diner's cramped office while the manager flipped through her resume.
“You've got experience," he said. “Dishwashing, food prep. This could work."
Her heart fluttered. “Really?"
“Yeah, just gotta call the number on your form—your last supervisor, uh..." He squinted. “Graystone Industrial Kitchen?"
Her voice barely held. “Yes, sir."
He dialed. Listened.
His face changed.
“I... I'm sorry," he said, hanging up. “Actually, there's been a miscommunication. The position's already filled."
Aileen stared at him. “They warned you, didn't they?"
He didn't meet her eyes. “Please leave."
---
**[Job #2 – Lily Boutique]**
Inside the boutique, sunlight danced across pastel dresses and glimmering jewelry.
Aileen approached the front counter. “Hi. I'm here for the sales associate opening."
The blonde girl behind the register gave her a once-over. “You're Aileen Keller?"
“Yes."
The girl paused. “I'm not supposed to talk to you. Our owner said if you show up, to say... we're not hiring anymore."
Aileen tried to keep her voice steady. “Did he say why?"
The girl hesitated. “He got a letter from a law firm. Hart & Wilshire. Said hiring you would be... legally unwise."
Her throat tightened. “Thank you. For telling the truth."
The girl offered a sympathetic look. “You don't seem like what the news said."
Aileen turned to leave. “Neither does Nathan Hart."
---
**[Job #3 – Golden Hour Café]**
The barista smiled brightly. “We love giving people second chances! Our whole mission is rehabilitation through routine!"
Relief rushed through Aileen.
“Let me show you the kitchen—"
The back door burst open.
“Wait," said a man in a dark blazer, voice clipped. “What's your name?"
“Aileen Keller," she said.
His smile vanished. “We'll be in touch."
“But—"
He held up a hand. “We're re-evaluating all applicants. HR will contact you."
Aileen didn't argue. She'd learned to recognize the tone of someone who had just received a phone call.
Or a threat.
---
**[Midday – Outside St. Gabriel's Soup Kitchen]**
She pressed the intercom button. “I'm here to volunteer. I have kitchen experience."
The voice crackled. “Name?"
“Aileen Keller."
A pause.
Then: “We're full. Try next month."
“I just need somewhere to help. Anywhere."
Another pause. Then a quiet, pitying tone. “You're on a restricted list. Sorry."
The intercom cut off.
Aileen slumped back against the cold brick wall.
---
**[Evening – Dive Bar on 8th Street]**
“You're really persistent," the bartender said, polishing a chipped glass.
“It's that or starve."
He gave her a long look. “I recognize you. From the Jolene Hart trial."
“I didn't—"
He waved her off. “Not my business. But here's what is: everyone in this district got a warning. Employers, landlords, schools. If we touch you, we get sued."
Aileen swallowed hard. “He's really doing this."
“Who else has the reach? Hart owns half the block."
“I just want a chance," she said.
“You won't get it here."
---
**[Nightfall – Park Bench Near Midtown]**
Rain began again—soft and cold.
Aileen huddled under a bus stop shelter, coat thin, bag clutched to her chest.
She hadn't eaten since the night before.
Headlines flickered across a nearby screen: *Nathan Hart's New Charity Initiative to 'Clean the Streets'*. A smiling photo of him. Aileen's stomach twisted.
She pulled her knees to her chest and whispered into the silence, “You're still controlling my life."
---
**[Sudden Approach – A Stranger in a Hoodie]**
“Hey," a man's voice said.
She flinched, clutching her bag tighter.
“Relax," he said, hands raised. “Saw you at the bar earlier. You were asking around."
“What do you want?"
He smirked. “To help. Maybe."
“Why?"
“Because I work at a place that doesn't ask questions. Elysium."
The name dropped like lead in her stomach.
She knew it.
Nathan's nightclub.
She stared at him. “You're serious?"
“They're hiring. Floor staff. Low pay. No breaks. But you'll get fed."
“And Nathan?"
He shrugged. “Doesn't get involved in hiring. Too busy throwing private parties upstairs. If you stay quiet, he might not even notice you."
Aileen looked down at her soaked boots. Her stomach growled.
“Where is it?"
---
**[Predawn – Back Entrance, Elysium]**
Neon letters pulsed dimly as she stepped toward the side door.
A man in a suit met her with a clipboard. “You Aileen Keller?"
“Yes."
“You'll sign a waiver. No sick leave, no overtime. You get meals. Uniform deducted from pay."
“Understood."
He handed her a pen.
As she signed, he leaned in, voice low. “Owner likes... special cases."
She met his eyes. “So do I."
He smirked. “Clock-in's at eight. Don't be late."
She turned away, the city still dark.
But she had a job.
Barely.
Still breathing.
Still remembering.
Still moving.
Despite the ache.
- Writer
