"SIENNA!"

The incessant pounding on my apartment door accompanied by the ear-piercing tone sharp enough to wake the dead rudely yanked me out from the depths of sleep.

Apparently, I was deep in the midst of a bizarre dream where I was teaching penguins how to dance the tango but none of that mattered now when my door was seconds away from getting pulled right off its hinges by none other than my notorious landlady who I owed three months worth of rent.

And it wasn't that I didn't want to pay her. If I could save myself from the humiliation and harassment I would but right now, it was the case of not having the means to.

I was broke. Point simple. And I know it seemed a little off for a 25-year-old nursing graduate to have no job and live off canned noodles but hear me out, there was a perfectly good explanation.

"SIENNA BARDOT?!"

Shit.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

"DON'T PLAY GAMES WITH ME SIENNA!"

I got up and looked around. My first thought was to wait it out. I considered ignoring her, pretending I wasn't home. She usually exhausted her breath after a few minutes, but the knocking grew louder and more insistent, each thud echoing in my ears like a drumbeat of impending doom.

And then the ominous jingle of keys resounded, making my heart skip several beats.

"I'M COMING IN!"

No.

Panic surged through me. I should've hidden but jumping out of the window seemed a better option because my apartment, more cramped than a sardine can, offered no hiding spots.

Shit. Shit.

The floor felt like a popsicle convention as I bolted towards the door. My options for convincing her were as limited as my chances of having a good life. Mrs. Fitz wasn't a pleasant listener. She was as friendly as fire ants and didn't give a rat's ass about anyone. But I had no choice.

Just as I reached for the handle, it swung inward, nearly taking me out like a wave. I gasped and recoiled but as my cruel fate would have it, I slipped on a rogue sock and somehow found myself on the floor.

"I knew you were in here." Mrs. Fitz, dressed like she was ready for a courtroom showdown snapped as she stormed in, her disapproving gaze sweeping over my chaotic apartment like a detective assessing a crime scene.

"Mrs Fitz!" I gleamed, frantically trying to gather my thoughts as I scrambled to my feet. "It's so good to see you. I'm so sorry, I had my EarPods in and didn't hear you knocking. How are you?"

"I do not have the time of day to exchange pleasantries with you, Sienna," Her voice was sharp, and her eyes bore into mine with a piercing intensity. "Rents past due and I can't let you continue to treat my apartment complex like a charity house."

My face reddened with embarrassment. God, I hated this. I smiled regardless. "You don't have to worry, Mrs. Fitz, I'll pay up soon, you see I just got a job." I lied. "Believe me, I'm one good coin toss away from paying you the rent, just give me a month to sort things out and-"

"Your promises are no longer good enough," she snarled, clearly uninterested in whatever I had to say. "You have one week to pack your things and leave."

My face dropped. "Mrs. Fitz..."

"Yes, you heard me and you better be out of here when the redecorators come by or I'll throw your things out on the streets myself."

"You can't do this to me."

"Watch me." She seethed and turned, starting to walk back out.

"No please wait!" I grabbed the hem of her trench coat, taking to my knees. "Please Mrs. Fitz please don't do this, I have nowhere else to go."

"Go back to your country then!" She snapped, struggling to dislodge me but I held on to her like a lifeline.

"I can't, my family depends on me, just one month, that's all I ask, please!" I held on tighter. "I promise, I'll make things right, please! Please!"

"Let go, Sienna!"

"No! Please Mrs. Fitz please!"

"For the love of-!" She barked and pushed me off, so hard that I fell to my ass and scratched my elbows against the hardwood floor.

I winced.

"Good riddance."

The door shut with a bang.

Silence.

I sighed heavily, rubbing my throbbing elbow.

How did it get to this?

How did my life take such a drastic turn?

Jackson.

Curse him.

You'd think the years spent watching my mother get cheated on repeatedly by her three spouses would have at least taught me to toughen my heart and become the headstrong girl who didn't easily cave because she liked a man, but it didn't. It was quite the opposite actually because I still ended up getting bamboozled by a million-dollar smile and cute dimples.

Jackson Widow was indisputably irresistible; a typical doppelganger of Chris Evans with the looks, and the pizzazz, and surprisingly, he didn't have a reputation for banging half the women in the office.

He'd swayed me with his devilish looks and charming wit and I'd fallen hook line and sinker for him. I was in love and I'd given my all to him thinking if I loved him with everything I had, he'd stay with me forever but walking in on him plowing his way between his partner's ass cheeks in the condo we both rented together made me realize how wrong I was.

For the past two years, he'd been lying to me. He was gay all along and the knowledge that I'd meant nothing to him beyond the means to conceal his sexual identity broke me.

So yeah, I went into the withdrawal phase where I induced myself with alcohol thinking it would wash my misery away. Disclaimer; it didn't, and I may or may not have messed up the surgery sheets and had an innocent guy who came in for a vasectomy donate his kidney for transplant.

It was a mistake made out of the influence of a raging hangover but that single mistake had cost me my practicing license, my savings, and my house, my life.

Now, six months later, having relocated from Wisconsin to Chicago because I couldn't stand the shame, I was still very much broke and lonely and the only friends I had except for the stoner next door were the rats, skeeters, and cockroaches I shared my apartment with.

One crawled across the wall, buzzing its wings. A bloody brown flyer. Irritated, I got up and grabbed my rubber slippers by the edge of the door. One throw and the damn thing fell to the floor, squirming.

Christ.

My alarm went off at that very moment, reminding me of my set plans to go job hunting even if it had been a never-ending cycle of rejections that left me questioning my life choices.

Sighing, I fought my way through the murder scene that was my apartment floor and entered into my miniature bathroom.

One look up at the broken mirror and I grimaced. If Chucky had a sister, it would be me. My eyes were round with dark circles, and my hair, resembling a confused bird's nest, defied gravity in every direction. Turning away, I stripped down and tucked my hair into my bath cap.

Brushing only took three minutes. Another cockroach crawled across the wall as I gurgled the water in my mouth and spat it into my sink but I ignored it.

I stepped into the stall right after. It was so tiny in here that I could barely stretch. The shower was long and relaxing. Eventually, I twisted the lever, stepped out, and proceeded to dig around my suitcase for a pair of clean denim shorts and a flannel to go.

I wasn't a fan of hairstyling so I took off my cap, combed through my tangled hair, and packed it high up into a rough ponytail. I then proceeded to pack my tote bag, throwing some sweets in there along with my keys, taser, phone, and a few reprinted papers of my working experience that would hopefully get me a job today.

I had submitted a few over the last week but got no reply back and honestly, it was tiring but I had to keep trying because I needed to send some money home this week for my mother's medication. With my brother confined to a wheelchair and my dad no longer in the picture, I was left with the position of a breadwinner.

I'd worked menial jobs over the few months that passed; from loading crates to washing vegetables to babysitting but they weren't enough and they didn't pay well.

Taking one last look at myself in my chipped mirror, I exhaled a reassuring breath and swiveled around to head for the door.

Apparently, the only way to make money these days was to either strip or sell your organs. No, literally I'd seen a flyer on the wall that said "Your kidney is safe with us."

In stories, they made it look so easy; go broke, get hooked up by a best friend, and boom! You're earning a million-dollar wage with a grumpy billionaire mafia claiming you as his.

Well, real life begged to differ and it crashed my daydream like a lead balloon.

I puffed out a sigh and stared into my glass of Coke sweating in my hand. After the disappointing hours spent walking under the brutal homicide-inducing sun in search of a job, I ended up still very much jobless but this time with sunburns.

The restaurant buzzed with the chatter of diners, a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped my phone lately, devoid of interview requests and job offers. I absentmindedly twirled a straw between my fingers, lost in thought.

Should I really just sell a kidney?

Maybe I'd have better luck selling my eggs.

"Why don't you just do it?" A familiar voice pierced through my solitude. It was Gail, my chatty stoner neighbor from downstairs who always got in a fight with Mrs. Fitzs for setting off the smoke alarm.

"Do what?" I asked lazily, drawing sips of my coke through the paper straw.

"Swing on a cock."

I choked on my sip and swiveled around to glare at the redhead sitting beside me. "What the hell?!"

She laughed out. "Just kidding."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to sip my drink. Gail was a beautiful girl, often known for her vibrant tattoos and glowing ginger hair. She was the sort of crazy beauty you read about in books, except she enjoyed dressing like a homeless chick and always had a cigarette behind her ear. How we became friends remained a mystery to me.

"But you know," She continued casually. "You could literally just ride or suck a cock and your problem will be solved, I have this friend, Ashley, she works at-"

"Thank you, Gail." I cut her, dreading where this conversation was heading. "But I'm not that type of girl."

"Why?" She leaned forward, her lips breaking a wicked grin. "Don't tell me you've never sucked a cock before?"

The aged woman passing by swiftly turned her head, shooting my friend a dirty look.

I sighed and shook my head. "Yes I have but that doesn't matter, I'm not sucking dick for money, okay, I'm not that girl."

I wasn't the type to sell my coochie for Gucci. I could do anything else. I even tried stripping once. It was a fair hustle and I didn't mind pleasing bald old farts if it meant I got to leave with loads of cash at the end of the night, but after nearly shitting myself while doing the splits during auditions, the manager chased me out. He said I didn't have the flexibility and the body for it, he said I was too thin and that they needed someone corn-fed.

I wasn't thin. I was skinny, a Kendall Jenner look-alike, except I was way shorter and had more boobs, and in terms of beauty I was a solid fifty-five.

Gail waved away my concerns with a dismissive flick of her hand. "Just trying to help, I heard Fitz knocking on your door like a maniac this morning. Something about a one-week notice? just thought you needed the quick cash."

"I do need quick cash but not that type of quick cash, and you know, if you really want to help me, you could start by not talking about cocks and weed all the time."

She grinned. It was a full-blown smile with her pearly whites on display. "I can't help it, I like what I like."

I really needed to revise my choice of friends. I rolled my eyes and continued my drink.

"That's twenty dollars and ten cents." Tyler calculated, wrapping up my order in a blue paper bag. "This makes it three hundred dollars you owe, Sienna."

"You don't have to worry, I'm this close to getting a job and once I do, I promise I'll pay up with a big ol' Interest," I assured, graciously receiving my dinner.

He gave me a look that said I was all hat, no cattle. "Well, I hope you do soon because I can't keep pulling favors. I've got a family to take care of."

I forced myself to smile. "I understand, thanks." I gave him a two-fingered salute and walked out of the store.

The warm night air caressed my parched skin. I released a long-suffering sigh and slumped my shoulders down.

God, I wasn't sure how long I could do this.

If this kept going, I would have to relocate back home soon but I didn't want that. I couldn't do it. My family depended on me. They all thought I was working this big nursing job in Wisconsin and my mother didn't fail to brag about me to her friends every opportunity she got. Going back now meant letting her down.

I looked up at the dark starless sky and exhaled a breath. God, I know I never believed in you but anything at this point would be a miracle.

I blew out another breath and refocused on the road leading to my house. Who was I kidding? God didn't care for a girl like me. No one did.

Reaching my destination, I walked in and ascended the stairs silently. There was a new piece of printed paper stamped on my door. Ignoring it like I did the rest electronic and water bills, I opened the door and walked in. It was dark. I reached for the switch and flipped on the lights, illuminating the messy clustered space.

Shaking my head, I dumped my paper bag and tote bag on the bed and walked into my bathroom.

I took another shower, letting it wash away the frustrations of my day off. I applied balm to my sunburn, warmed up my noodles, and at the end of everything, I slumped on my bed, slurping my noodles while checking my emails on my cracked Samsung screen with my neighbor's wifi to see if any of those agencies responded.

Still nothing.

Refusing to get demoralized, I switched to TikTok and continued to stuff my face with more noodles. Just then, my phone buzzed with an incoming call, and the name that appeared on my screen made my mouth fall wide open.

Stefan.

Oh my God. A string of noodles slipped out of my mouth and fell back into my bowl.

I swallowed even if I wasn't done chewing and picked up the call.

"Hey."

Holy smoking Molly. I slapped my chest, choking on my swallow. It was him.

"Oh my God, Steph." I almost laughed and then cried because it had been so long and I didn't expect I would ever hear from him again. "It's you."

Stefan and my older brother Axton used to be best friends. They went to College together and oftentimes, he spent the holidays at our house in Tasmania, but when Axton went off to the military, things sort of changed.

Even now they weren't so close because ever since the operation that cost Axton his leg, he rarely socialized or left the house.

"How you doing, cookie?"

My cheeks flushed. "I've been better," I told him, shyly tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears. "What about you? How are you? And most importantly why did it take you 365 days to finally remember I exist?"

He cackled. "Alright, you got me. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. I've been busy as hell but I do send postcards to Ax from time to time."

I smiled. "It's fine. I'm glad."

"Yeah so um," He cleared his throat. "Candice told me you reached out to her sometime last week while searching for a job. Found one yet?"

My brows crinkled up. "No...not really."

"Great. What if I told you I had another one for you?"

A jolt of nervous excitement hurled through me. I sat up, ditching my noodle bowl. "Really? Are you being serious right now, Steph?"

"Don't get excited yet, you don't know what it entails."

"Nonsense." I beamed. "As far as it doesn't involve killing someone or selling my organs, I'm down."

He laughed. "Well, then I guess you have no problem marrying my boss."

My pupils dilated. I laughed so much that my belly hurt. "You're so funny, Steph, come on, tell me."

"No I'm very much serious, Sienna," the tint of humor in his voice disappeared. "I want to hire you to marry my boss."