Attention in Las Vegas was different from attention in her province.
It was sharper.
More transactional.
A man messaged her offering "private promotional opportunities."
Another offered expensive gifts in exchange for dinner.
She ignored them.
Brielle warned her.
"Vegas will test what you're willing to trade."
Elena remembered her father running through the rice field with a bolo knife.
She remembered her mother counting coins late at night.
There were lines she wouldn't cross.
But temptation wasn't always obvious.
At a networking event she attended with Brielle, a well-dressed woman approached her.
"You have potential," the woman said smoothly. "But potential needs packaging."
Packaging.
The word made Elena uncomfortable.
Still, she listened.
The woman handed her a card.
"Call me if you want real exposure."
Back at the apartment, Elena studied the card for a long time.
Exposure sounded powerful.
But vague.
She didn't call.
Not yet.
Instead, she focused on building slowly.
Small gigs.
Consistent presence.
Real connections.
She was learning that Vegas wasn't conquered overnight.
It was negotiated with.