I wasn't looking for a part time job because I could actually afford to start paying Elara back right away. I needed the money just to live.
The amount I owed her was too much. Even if I handed over my entire paycheck every time, it would still take months to cover it—and that wasn't a situation I could survive in.
"So…" I asked carefully, "do you want me to give you my entire paycheck until it's paid off?"
There was no response.
My grip tightened around the phone. After a brief pause, I hurried to add, "…or could we do it in installments instead?"
A low chuckle drifted through the line.
Again, I found myself wondering what expression she was wearing when she laughed like that—and again, I knew it was better that I didn't see it in person.
"It's up to you," Elara said.
That was it.
She really was strange. She never bothered with greetings when she called, and she never offered any kind of closing before hanging up either.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked down at the screen.
The call had already ended.
I hadn't gotten a real answer.
Well—technically I had. Just not one that helped.
I pushed open the glass door of the convenience store. I had told Alex I was stepping out to buy something to drink, so going back empty handed wasn't an option. I wandered through the aisles for a bit before picking up the cheapest bottle I could find and heading for the counter.
Just as I was about to pay, my phone buzzed.
I assumed it was Alex. But when I checked the screen, my brows drew together.
It was a message from Elara.
She had laid out a one year installment plan.
That alone left me complicated. But it was the two words at the very end that made my fingers froze.
Interest included.
For a moment, my lips curved into a faint smile.
I handed over the money for the drink, and while the cashier slipped the bottle into a small bag, I typed out a reply.
If Elara insisted on adding interest, then wasn't it only fair that she at least gave me the first few months without it? I even added a small plea at the end, asking her to keep it that way for a full year.
With the bag in hand and that quiet smile still lingering, I stepped out of the store.
Before I realized it, my thoughts were already drifting back to her.
Elara Holloway was, without a doubt, a very strange person.
When we first met, I had been genuinely terrified of her. The two encounters that followed hadn't been pleasant either. And now, she was demanding repayment—with interest, no less. And yet… I didn't feel afraid of her anymore.
Why?
"It's strange," I murmured to myself.
Yes. Strange.
Or maybe the strangeness wasn't Elara at all, but me.
She hadn't changed. She was still the same woman I had met at the beginning—someone who could, if it was possible, reduce me to the size of spoon without hesitation.
And yet, despite knowing that, I couldn't bring myself to see her as frightening anymore.
Maybe what I was really hoping for was that she wouldn't turn out to be a bad person after all.
*****
A few days passed, and I slowly began to adjust to my new workplace.
Like anywhere else, the beginning was rough. Mostly because I had to memorize all the drink names. My memory itself wasn't a problem—if anything, it was the one thing I was good at. But the foreign names were another matter. Every time I tried to pronounce them, my head started to ache.
Aside from that, everything was… surprisingly good.
The people were kind. And more importantly, no one cared about my past. I still remembered the restaurant job I had taken once. How I had to quit not long after because I couldn't endure the constant mistreatment.
This place was different.
Here, I was treated fairly. They even provided a meal during work hours. And the bar's chef turned out to be an exceptional person, skilled and patient, which only made things easier.
My work itself was simple.
I swept the floors, kept the place clean, took orders, and brought them to the tables. When the bar got busy, I helped out in the kitchen; cutting vegetables, washing dishes, handling whatever small tasks were needed.
It was exhausting on my body.
But my mind felt lighter than it had in years.
Back when I had been delivering drugs, the work hadn't been physically demanding at all. But the mental strain had been unbearable. Compared to that, this kind of tiredness was much easier to live with.
I preferred it this way—where I didn't have to think too much.
Of course, Alex didn't share that sense of relief.
Whenever he watched me head out for work, his eyes followed me closely, as if he were searching for faults.
*****
It was raining outside.
The bar sat empty now, the last customer having just left. In the corner stood the small stage with the piano, where a woman had been playing only moments ago. She paused, letting the final notes fade into the air, then stretched with a languid ease.
"It's pouring," she remarked.
Ever since I had started my shift, the rain had only grown heavier.
I was wiping down a table when my gaze drifted toward the glass panes, watching the rain streak down them. The woman at the piano had been incredibly skilled. Her playing had been soft and soothing, especially when it blended with the sound of rainfall outside.
Now she had stepped away from the instrument and moved to the counter, where the bartender was mopping up a spill.
The silence left behind by the absence of music made my chest sink with a quiet, unexpected disappointment.
"It doesn't look like it's stopping anytime soon," the bartender said.
I finished wiping the table and joined the others who had gathered nearby.
"Should we just close early today?" Christina suggested, her eyes fixed on the sheets of rain beating against the windows.
From the kitchen, the chef leaned out, his face lighting up instantly. The others perked up as well. The idea of getting off early was enough to stir excitement in everyone. And I was no exception.
With rain this heavy, you had to be either brave enough to go out or desperate enough to try. Either way, it usually kept people away.
Just as everyone's attention stayed on Christina, waiting for her decision, the bell above the door chimed.
The door swung open.
Every head turned at once, each of us silently wondering who had just crushed our hopes of closing early.
When I saw the figure step inside, surprise flickered across my face—only briefly.
It faded just as quickly.
There was only one person I ever seemed to run into at moments like this.