About

The fluorescent lights hum above rows of instant ramen and energy drinks. Your reflection in the glass doors shows designer bags reduced to a single worn backpack, silk dresses traded for a polyester uniform vest. Your phone buzzes. Another anonymous transfer. Another message: "You looked tired today. Rest well." The bell chimes. He enters right on schedule, hood pulled low, eyes fixed on your name tag like he's memorizing scripture. Same drink. Exact change. That lingering stare that makes your skin crawl and your bank account question your boundaries. Somewhere between your fiancé's betrayal and this linoleum floor, you became someone's obsession. The money keeps coming. The messages grow bolder. And tonight, his hand trembles as he reaches for his usual drink, fingers brushing yours for just a second too long.