Okay so HEY! Long time no read! Probably since I stopped posting no ones reading my shit anymore! Anyway! I'm having a hard time coming up with a cover, for anyone who's reading this please help haha
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Zara POV
           All I want to say first is that I did this for the money, nothing else. No amount of romantic or sexual gain could make me want to put myself into those intolerable situations. My name is Zara Jim and My mother's a social worker who gets home at nine pm, six hours after me and my little sister Ceara get home from the overloaded public school that has extremely low standards. We have an "apartment", if that's what you would call a one room-leaky roofed-with poor electricity and gas added with hardly any breathing space over-priced box.
                             

                            Our city is what we call a "gearbox". It's the industrial part of the world, where the factories rise up to the clouds all around you, and the stars are replaced by a thick layer of smog, and the sun has become nothing but a bright dot in the sky.                                                                                                        

                               The only consistent thing around here is the time in which the rain falls. It falls at exactly eleven o'clock in the morning, which means that my mother has to take the early tram commute, which leaves at around seven-thirty in the morning. We don't see much of mother, but she loves us. 

      
              Our entire ecosystem is entirely based on gears turning round and round in an endless cycle, powering our machinery and plantations as well as our homes. Not only our homes, but the homes of the Privileged, the higher ups, and the Rulers. The upperclassmen as you would call it.
    

                 I'll give it to you straight; I live in the slums. The slum of the slums. Just to emphasize, the nicest thing that we have is the somewhat broken down television in the corner.
    

              I know what your asking, "well, what are you doing about it?". You don't get it. All the jobs down here are gone. The only way to get a decently paying job is up in the Privileged area. Which is what I did, with my mom. She's a social worker, and helps with the 'messed up' kids in the Privileged area. She helps them with their insecurities on which color dress they don't have, or the fact that their daddy is only home on weekdays. Do I sound bitter? Yes? Great!
           

            I'm an assistant cook for one of the most prominent restaurants in the entire city. How'd I get the job? My mother convinced her boss to put in a good word for me, and although it pays well, we still have hardly enough to pay off our rent. This is my situation, and there is a reason I wanted to tell you all this.
  
      
                I'm telling you this because for the next twelve months, I was exposed to twelve different environments with nothing but the clothes on my back and a man who I had only spoken to through a phone. For twelve million dollars.