Chapter 5: The Bill Comes Due

She wouldn’t let it go, so I went with her to a bar.

I followed her out into the night, the city lights blurring past as we walked. The bar was loud, packed with people, the air thick with smoke and laughter. I felt out of place, but Kayla seemed right at home.

Kayla seemed to know the place well. As soon as we walked in, a few drunk guys greeted her.

They called her name, waved her over, made jokes I didn’t quite catch. Kayla just smiled, waving back like it was nothing. I felt a pang of jealousy, but I tried to hide it.

She leaned in, her voice low. "Ignore them. They’re just regulars."

"Let’s grab a booth. I’ll go get us some drinks, okay?"

She winked, disappearing into the crowd before I could answer. I watched her go, feeling more alone than ever.

God knows, this was the first time I’d ever been somewhere so loud and flashy.

The music thumped through my chest, the lights flashing in dizzy patterns. I kept my hands in my pockets, trying not to draw attention. I wished I was anywhere else.

I frowned, feeling out of place.

I scanned the room, searching for a quiet corner, but there was nowhere to hide. I wondered how Kayla could stand it here, night after night.

"It’s too noisy here. Why don’t we go somewhere else?"

I tried to keep my voice steady, but I knew I sounded nervous. Kayla just smiled, shaking her head.

But Kayla ignored me, tugging me deeper inside.

She grabbed my arm, dragging me toward a booth in the back. "Trust me, you’ll get used to it."

"Give it a minute. You’ll love it here."

She grinned, her eyes shining with excitement. I tried to relax, but it wasn’t easy.

After settling me into a private booth, Kayla left, then soon came back pushing a cart loaded with drinks.

She balanced the tray with practiced ease, setting out bottles and glasses with a flourish. I watched, amazed at how comfortable she was in this world.

"These are the best drinks here. Only someone like you could get the owner to bring them out."

She poured a drink for each of us, her hands steady. "You have to try this one," she said, sliding a glass toward me. "It’s the owner’s favorite."

Before I could say anything, she quickly grabbed the bottle opener and popped open several bottles in a row.

The corks flew across the table, landing in my lap. Kayla laughed, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The drinks sparkled in the low light, promising more than I was ready for.

Seeing this, I tried to stop her. "It’s just the two of us—we can’t drink all this, can we?"

I reached for her hand, trying to slow her down. She just grinned, already pouring another glass.

Her cheeks flushed, and she slurred her words. "Sorry, I got too excited seeing you. You won’t blame me, right?"

She leaned in, her head on my shoulder. I could smell the alcohol on her breath, see the hope in her eyes. She was trying so hard to make this night special.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just shook my head awkwardly.

I offered a weak smile, hoping she couldn’t see how uncomfortable I was. I took a sip of my drink, letting the burn settle my nerves.

After I’d barely made it through three hours, my mom kept blowing up my phone, urging me to go through with the plan.

Every buzz made me jump. I kept my phone face down on the table, ignoring the calls. I didn’t want to face what waited on the other end.

But I kept turning it off, pretending not to see.

I told Kayla my battery was dying, but really, I just couldn’t handle the pressure. I needed more time.

"It’s really late. Let’s head home," I suggested again.

I tried to sound casual, but my voice was strained. I was desperate to get out of there, to escape the noise and the guilt.

Kayla sat beside me, drunk, gazing at me with hazy eyes. She lifted her hand and slowly reached into her bra.

Her movements were slow, almost theatrical. She pulled out a slip of paper, holding it out to me with a shaky hand.

"This is the tab for the drinks. Don’t forget to sign it."

She smiled, but there was a nervous edge to it. I took the bill, my hands trembling.

I took the bill and glanced at it, my eyes going wide. "Why is it so expensive?"

The total was more than I’d ever spent in one night. My heart pounded in my chest, and I struggled to keep my voice steady.

The drinks Kayla ordered—even the cheapest—cost thousands per bottle, and she’d opened several that were five figures each.

I did the math in my head, stunned by the number. I wondered if she’d planned this, or if she just got carried away.

But Kayla looked at me sheepishly, tears welling up in her eyes.

Her lower lip trembled, and she blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. She looked so small, so vulnerable, I almost forgot why we were here at all.

"Do you think I’m too wasteful? I’m sorry, I didn’t think it through. I just heard these drinks were all amazing, so I wanted you to try them. I love you so much—I want you to have the best."

Her voice cracked, and she reached for my hand. I could feel her desperation, her need to be forgiven. It made my heart ache.

Before, I felt guilty about bringing her home for my sister. After this performance, that guilt started to fade.

I realized I’d been fooling myself. Kayla was playing a part, just like I was. Maybe we both deserved what was coming.

I waved it off. "It’s just a little money—not even a day’s income for my family."

I forced a laugh, trying to sound casual. I wanted her to think I didn’t care, even if it wasn’t true.

Hearing this, Kayla’s drunkenness seemed to vanish. Her eyes sparkled. "What does your family do? Why haven’t you told me before?"

She leaned in, suddenly sober, curiosity burning in her gaze. I hesitated, not wanting to give too much away.

"Just some small business," I said vaguely.

I shrugged, hoping she’d drop it. But I could see the gears turning in her head.

She stared at me, mumbling, "That’s incredible. I wish I had a family like that. My dad died when I was little, my mom raised me alone, then she got really sick. I had to drop out of school to pay her hospital bills."

Her story changed every time she told it. I wondered if she even remembered what she’d said last time.

I almost laughed.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to smile. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I couldn’t ignore the lies anymore.

She must’ve forgotten that just last month she told me her parents had a baby boy and, to save for his college fund, they sold all her bags and jewelry.

I remembered the late-night calls, the tears, the stories that never quite added up. I wanted to believe her, but it was getting harder every day.

Back then, to comfort her, I picked two designer bags from her list and sent them to her.

I told myself it was just money, that it didn’t matter. But every time I hit send, I felt a little more empty inside.

She’s told so many lies, she probably can’t keep track anymore.

I wondered if she even knew what was true anymore. Maybe she’d been lying so long, she believed her own stories.

I pulled her into my arms. "Now that you’re with me, you don’t have to work so hard anymore."

I stroked her hair, whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could keep. She melted into me, her body relaxing for the first time all night.

Kayla’s face flushed again as she hugged my waist tight.

She buried her face in my chest, her arms wrapped around me like she was afraid I’d disappear. I held her close, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at my insides.

"You must know by now—I’m just a cocktail waitress. You don’t look down on me, do you?"

Her voice was small, almost afraid. I could feel her searching my face for any sign of judgment.

I spoke softly. "How could I? If you really love someone, that stuff doesn’t matter."

I brushed a strand of hair from her face, smiling gently. I wanted her to believe it, even if I wasn’t sure I did.