Chapter Two: A New Low

The thought of drinking my troubles away crossed my mind as I walked aimlessly through the streets. A stiff drink would dull the ache in my chest, if only for a little while. But when I fished a crumpled five-dollar bill and some loose change from my bag, reality hit harder than Jake’s betrayal. I couldn’t even afford a cheap cocktail.

“Figures,” I muttered, stuffing the money back into my bag. “Not even enough to drown my sorrows properly.”

With a resigned sigh, I decided to head home. My apartment wasn’t much, but it was the closest thing I had to a sanctuary. At least there, I could sulk in peace without an audience.

The elevator in my rundown building groaned as it climbed to the fifth floor, and when the doors finally creaked open, I stepped out, already fumbling for my keys. That’s when I saw her: Mrs. Gonzales, my landlady, leaning against my doorframe with her arms crossed and an expression that spelled trouble.

“Good evening, Mrs. Gonzales,” I said, forcing a smile. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t here to yell at me.

“Evening, Vielle,” she replied, her voice clipped. “We need to talk.”

"Oh? About what?” I asked, though I already knew.

She gave me a look that made it clear she wasn’t in the mood for games. "About your rent. It’s been two months, Vielle. I’ve been patient, but I can’t keep waiting forever.”

I opened my mouth to offer some excuse, but she cut me off. “One week. That’s all you have. If you can’t pay by then, I’m afraid you’ll have to find somewhere else to live.”

“One week?” I repeated, my voice rising in panic. "Mrs. Gonzales, I just need a little more time. I’m working on it, I swear.”

Her expression softened slightly, but her resolve didn’t falter. “I’m sorry, Vielle. I like you, but I have bills to pay too. One week. That’s all I can give you.”

Before I could argue further, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. One week. Seven days to scrape together rent money or face the reality of losing the one place I had left.

I unlocked my door and stepped inside, the weight of the day pressing down on me like a lead blanket. My tiny apartment felt smaller than ever as I sank onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“No more liars, no more freeloaders,” I whispered again, the words hollow now. But as I sat there in the silence, a new resolve began to form.

If the universe wanted to throw me into the deep end, then so be it. I’d find a way to swim. I had to.

While staring at the ceiling, my phone rang, the sharp sound cutting through my thoughts. I grabbed it off the coffee table and glanced at the screen.

Maven.

A small smile tugged at my lips despite everything. Maven had been my best friend since childhood, the one constant in a life full of chaos. I hit the answer button.

“Hey, Maven,” I said, my voice cracking slightly.

“Vielle, are you okay?” Maven’s voice was warm and familiar, a balm to my frayed nerves. "I just had a feeling I needed to call you.”

“You and your weird intuition,” I said, laughing softly. “It’s been a day, Maven. A really, really bad day.”

“Tell me everything,” Maven said without hesitation.

And so, I did. I told him about the breakup, about Jake's betrayal, about the money he refused to repay. I told him about Mrs. Gonzales and the looming eviction that threatened to uproot my already fragile existence.

Maven listened without interrupting, his occasional hum of acknowledgment the only sign that he was still there. When I finally finished, the silence on the other end stretched long enough for me to wonder if the call had dropped.

“That’s a lot, Vielle,” Maven finally said, his voice heavy with concern. “You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this alone. Let me help you.”

“Maven, no,” **I said immediately. “You’ve done enough for me over the years. I can’t keep running to you every time my life falls apart.”**

“This isn’t running to me,” he countered. “It’s me offering because I care about you. I can lend you the money for rent or help you figure something else out. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Maven’s offer was tempting—so tempting—but accepting it felt like admitting defeat. “I appreciate it, Maven. Really, I do. But I’ll manage. I’ve always managed.”

“Vielle…” he began, but I cut him off.

“I mean it. I’ll get through this,” I said firmly. "Thank you, though. For always being there for me.”

There was a long pause before he finally relented. “Fine. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“I know,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Goodnight, Maven.”

“Goodnight, Vielle. And take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” I promised before ending the call.

I set the phone down and leaned back against the couch, exhaustion finally catching up to me. Despite the chaos of the day, Maven’s call had brought a small measure of comfort. For a moment, the storm in my chest felt a little less overwhelming.

I closed my eyes, letting the stillness of the room wash over me. Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it brought dreams of better days—days where the weight of the world didn’t feel quite so heavy.

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