I was sitting on my bed, my thumb mindlessly scrolling through part time job listings, when the door burst open with a loud bang.
Alex dragged himself into the room, barely keeping his balance.
He was a complete mess—greasy hair, rumpled clothes, his face flushed an ugly, drunken red.
He stumbled inside, cursing under his breath without pause.
"That pig like fucker. I swear I will rip his big belly out with my hands."
It had been weeks since the incident at the bar. Since then, neither of us had done any work. The pig like man stopped answering Alex's calls after that. But today, it seemed he had finally managed to meet him.
Judging by the state he was in, whatever deal he had been offered must have been terrible.
I tried asking him what had happened, but he didn't answer. He only muttered curses under his breath before slumping into a corner, his phone clenched in his fist.
Our savings were running low. The thought of how we were supposed to pay next month's rent pressed heavily on my mind.
A few days later, I started looking for part-time work. Especially after seeing Alex like this. He hadn't been sleeping well, and the exhaustion etched on his face worried me.
My resume sucked. I was a defective alpha—an orphan with little education and a weak physique.
There were a few offers, but I hadn't applied for them. They were recommended instead, and none of them were decent.
I had no choice but to keep trying. Whenever things went wrong, Alex shut himself away, working through it alone. So I took charge of our small household, for as long as it needed me.
But no matter where I went, I was rejected outright or told they would contact me later—contact that never came. When I went back, they told me they'd already found someone better.
Just like now, after another failed interview, I stopped by a park on my way back.
It was a truly beautiful day. The sky was clear, and a cool breeze brushed against my skin, carrying a comforting warmth. The trees were full, blooming with colorful, healthy leaves, and the world around me felt calm and peaceful.
My mind wasn't.
Yet, instead of discouraging me, the weather lifted my spirits a little, strengthening my resolve. I rubbed my face, forcing my thoughts into order, then took my phone out and settled onto a nearby bench, determined to keep going.
There were still plenty of jobs I hadn't applied for. Before I could even start, my phone screen suddenly changed.
And a name appeared.
The shock made me jerk so hard I nearly threw the phone. It slipped from my fingers and hit the ground, still ringing, the name glowing on the screen.
I grabbed it immediately and wiped the screen with my sleeve. I was already in a massive shit, and I really didn't want to add another problem on top of it.
I sincerely hoped that I would have read the name wrong. But when I looked again, it was still there.
Elara Holloway.
After our last meeting, when no call ever came, I had started to think Elara had forgotten about me.
Now, it didn't seem that way at all.
I froze, staring at my screen, unable to decide what to do. Maybe I stood there too long without realizing it. Or maybe I was just… stuck, caught by the name glowing on the display. Either way, the ringing suddenly stopped.
I stood there, motionless. A small relief flickered across my face. But it barely lasted a second.
The phone started ringing again.
I exhaled slowly. It didn't feel like I had much of a choice anymore. I had almost forgotten—she still had my ID. Avoiding her was never really an option.
"Hello?"
My voice came out deflated and tense. I would've preferred a text. Instead, I stood there awkwardly, kicking into the empty air.
"You answered? I thought you wouldn't."
For a split second, I wondered if pretending I had stared at my phone too long might work.
"Why?" I didn't think so. So I just asked curtly. "Why did you call me?"
"Don't tell me you aren't planning on paying for the loss you caused me."
I winced. Of course. Just like I had expected—another problem added neatly on top of the rest.
"How much is it?"
"Hm. Let's see. The clothes should be fine," she said, almost thoughtfully. "But the shoes were ruined beyond salvation."
Something about her tone felt off.
I remembered the moment clearly—how the shine on her polished shoes had dulled because of me. I hadn't been conscious of much then, but that part stuck. Still, the way she spoke now didn't match the woman I remembered.
Was she drunk? Why was she talking like that? For someone cold and indifferent, it was unusual for her to talk like that.
"I'll have to buy a new pair. If I remember correctly, they should be about…"
Yeah. She was definitely drunk. There was no other explanation.
Shoes couldn't possibly cost that much otherwise. When I tried to do the math in my head, the total came out to several times more than I had ever spent on myself.
"Really?" I said, unable to hide my disbelief.
She sounded completely serious. She even added that she could show me the receipt if I needed proof.
"Why would I lie to you now?" Elara asked. Her voice was calm but firm.
She knew exactly what kind of situation I was in. I didn't know what she was trying to get out of this, but I wasn't in any position to question her.
All I could do was the one thing I was good at.
Plead.
"Please… cut me some slack," I said quietly. "I don't have any money right now. Let alone that much."
"That's going to be a problem, then," Elara replied smoothly. "Because, you see… those were my favorite."
I wasn't sure I believed that. But with a price like that, I suppose they could be anyone's favorite.
"I'm not saying I won't pay," I hurried on. "It's just… difficult right now. I lost my job. I don't even have money for food. But I will—I promise. I'll pay you back. No matter what."
Her voice didn't soften.
"And how could I trust you? You might as well run away while you're at it."