Eliza didn't beat around the bush. "Lydia, I need to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" Lydia gave Eliza a once-over, then stepped aside. "Come in, let's chat."

Eliza laid out her predicament.

It took Lydia a moment to absorb the news. Eliza had always been the top student and the pride of their town. She had even gotten into the most prestigious university with flying colors. "Are you... in trouble?"

Eliza nodded, her every move heavy with worry. "I owe someone money, so I came to... ask for a job."

"You don't have a job?" Lydia was taken aback.

"I do, but I was thinking of working evenings... like a part-time gig. Can you help me out?" Eliza bit her lip.

She'd heard Lydia was now the top manager and could probably find a spot for someone without much hassle. It just depended on whether Lydia was willing to help.

Lydia lit a cigarette, her piercing eyes never leaving Eliza. "You can't handle this job."

had been talented from a young age. In college, she even taught herself jazz and folk

drag, and blew out the smoke slowly, her brow furrowed. "...this place is full

someone who can't adapt. It's only environments

never

to a place like this unless she was truly desperate. The scars on Eliza's wrist confirmed her suspicions. "Are

Eliza nodded. "I'm sure."

I won't turn you away. But Eliza, you need to understand that this job may pay well but comes with

to be upfront

dancers were mere playthings

my

by this weekend, and I'll personally teach you some rules and techniques. You start work on Monday night.

issues. I'll

day, Eliza was the

of the Design

Welton International, a dedicated

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