A Rebirth

No Other Choice

The city was unkind to those who had nothing.

Melinda pulled her thin coat tighter around her, but the wind still cut through like a knife. It had rained earlier, leaving the streets slick with water and reflecting the harsh glow of the streetlights. Her shoes were soaked, and every step sent a jolt of cold up her legs. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but she had stopped thinking about food hours ago.

She had spent the day walking aimlessly, trying to find a place to warm up, a shelter with an open bed, or maybe even a "help wanted" sign in some forgotten corner of the city. No luck. The world had closed its doors to her, just like the landlords, the employers, and even the so-called friends she had tried to reach out to in desperation.

Now, as night crept in, the streets emptied, and Melinda felt even more invisible than she had that morning.

She stopped near an old convenience store, its flickering neon sign buzzing weakly. She pressed her hands together, trying to generate warmth, when a voice from behind made her freeze.

“Well, well, look what we have here.”

Melinda turned, her stomach twisting before she even saw the face.

Tasha Greene.

Even after all these years, Melinda recognized her instantly. The confident smirk, the expensive coat, the way she carried herself as if she owned whatever space she stood in. Some people changed after high school. Tasha wasn’t one of them.

“Melinda Carter,” Tasha said, drawing out her name like it was a joke. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you out here like this.”

Melinda straightened, forcing herself not to shrink under Tasha’s gaze. She had spent years escaping the memory of this woman—of the girl who had tormented her through school. The whispered insults, the stolen homework, the cruel pranks.

Now, here they were. And somehow, despite everything, Tasha still had the upper hand.

Melinda exhaled sharply. “Yeah, well. Life happens.”

Tasha tilted her head. “Guess so. What’s your story?”

Melinda hesitated. She didn’t owe Tasha anything, but at the same time, what was the point of pretending?

“No job. No home.” The words tasted bitter. “I’m just trying to survive.”

Tasha let out a low whistle. “Damn. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Melinda clenched her fists, willing herself to stay calm. The last thing she needed was to snap and make things worse.

Tasha studied her for a moment, then crossed her arms. “You looking for work?”

Melinda’s stomach tightened. Was she really about to accept help from Tasha Greene? She had no reason to trust her, but what choice did she have?

She swallowed her pride. “Yeah. Anything.”

Tasha smirked. “Anything, huh? Well, lucky for you, I know someone who’s hiring.”

Melinda’s instincts screamed at her to say no, to walk away, but the cold, the hunger, and the exhaustion drowned out the warning bells in her head.

She nodded. “Where?”

Tasha’s smirk widened. “Follow me.”

A New Path, or a Trap?

Tasha led her through the city streets, taking sharp turns down alleyways and back roads that Melinda wouldn’t have dared enter alone.

"Where exactly are we going?" Melinda asked, trying to keep up.

Tasha glanced back. "Relax. You said you'd take anything, right?"

Melinda didn’t respond. She was too busy thinking about how easily things could go wrong.

Finally, they stopped in front of a building with no sign. The windows were covered in grime, and the door had peeling paint. Tasha knocked twice, then stepped back.

The door creaked open, and a man in a dark hoodie peered out. His eyes flicked to Tasha, then to Melinda.

“She’s with me,” Tasha said smoothly.

The man hesitated, then opened the door wider. "Come in."

Melinda hesitated. Everything about this screamed bad idea, but she stepped inside anyway.

A Job Offer

The air inside was thick with cigarette smoke and the low hum of conversation. A few people sat at tables, counting money or talking in hushed voices. A TV flickered in the corner, playing an old movie.

Tasha guided her through the room and into a small office in the back. A man sat behind a cluttered desk, flipping through a stack of bills. He was older, maybe in his late 40s, with sharp eyes and a calculating expression.

"This her?" he asked, not looking up.

"Yeah," Tasha replied. "She needs work."

The man finally looked at Melinda, scanning her up and down like he was sizing her up.

"You ever bartend before?" he asked.

Melinda shook her head.

He shrugged. "Doesn’t matter. We need someone at the club. Tips are good, but you gotta be quick. Do you think you can handle it?"

Melinda hesitated. This was too easy. What was the catch?

"What kind of club?" she asked cautiously.

Tasha grinned. "The kind that pays."

The man leaned back in his chair. "Look, you want the job or not?"

Melinda thought about sleeping on the streets again. About waking up cold and hungry with nowhere to go. About how she had nothing left to lose.

She took a deep breath.

"I’ll take it."

The First Night

The club was nothing like she expected.

Loud music. Dim lights. The scent of alcohol and sweat hanging in the air. The bar was packed, and Melinda barely had time to breathe before drinks were being shoved at her to serve.

Tasha had disappeared, leaving her to fend for herself. The other bartender, a woman named Sonia, barely looked at her as she explained how things worked.

“Don’t mess up orders. Don’t take crap from customers. And if someone gets handsy, the bouncers handle it,” Sonia said, pouring a drink without looking. “Got it?”

Melinda nodded.

The first hour was chaos. She spilt a drink, dropped a glass, and nearly got cussed out by a man who insisted his whiskey wasn’t strong enough. But as the night went on, she started to get the hang of it.

Then, just as she was beginning to feel a sliver of confidence, a familiar voice sent ice down her spine.

“Well, well. Look who’s working the bar.”

Melinda turned and felt her stomach drop.

It was someone from her past—someone worse than Tasha. It was the same senior who took advantage of her in middle school.

And they were smiling right at her.