The next few days in Las Vegas felt like walking on a moving floor — Elena had to adjust constantly or fall.
Brielle did not waste time.
"You can't sit around hoping someone fixes your problem," she said one morning while applying mascara with terrifying precision. "Vegas doesn't reward waiting. It rewards movement."
Elena nodded. She had already learned that much.
They spent the day walking through different hotels and event centers. Brielle seemed to know everyone — or at least pretended she did.
"Confidence is currency," she whispered to Elena before approaching a front desk manager at a mid-tier hotel hosting a tech convention.
The manager barely looked up.
"We're fully staffed."
Brielle smiled wider.
"Not for promotional floor hosts. Trust me."
The man finally glanced at Elena.
And paused.
That pause again.
Elena was starting to understand its power.
"Experience?" he asked.
"Casino event hosting. Product launch. Manila," Elena replied, steady.
He studied her for a few seconds longer than necessary.
"We might need last-minute replacements tomorrow. Leave your contact."
It wasn't a job yet.
But it wasn't a no.
As they left the building, Brielle nudged her.
"You see that? You didn't shrink."
Elena hadn't realized she used to.
Back in her province, she walked like she was apologizing for existing.
Now she was walking like she had somewhere to be.
That night, they split a cheap takeout meal and counted Elena's remaining cash.
Two hundred and sixty dollars.
It looked like a lot when folded.
It wasn't.
"Worst case," Brielle said casually, "you work as a temporary bottle server assistant. Tips can save you."
Elena swallowed.
"I'll do what I have to."
And she meant it.
The next morning, her borrowed phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
"This is the Hilton convention desk. Can you come in at 2 p.m.?"
Her heart pounded.
"Yes. I can."
She hung up and stared at Brielle.
"I got it."
Brielle grinned.
"Welcome to Level One."