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."

college, she

lit her cigarette, took a long drag, and blew out the smoke slowly, her brow furrowed. "...this place is

who can't adapt. It's only

had never been

been on her own since she was eighteen. She knew that a woman wouldn't come to a place like

Eliza nodded. "I'm sure."

you need to understand that this job may pay well but

be upfront about the harsh

men, dancers were mere playthings devoid of dignity and value. Their bodies were on display, to be manipulated at will. Such was the

them... that's my limit." That was

and I'll personally teach you some rules and techniques. You start work on Monday

I'll

day, Eliza

of the Design Department

Welton International, a dedicated

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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