It’s a world of hypocrisy she steps into as the doors open, welcoming her in the large room. There’s no single red carpet path that aligns the entire floor with a cherry wood center by the orchestra. There’s little decoration, but each with a purpose, its white lilies ordained in each bouquet with drops of diamonds and dresses, though simple, from brand designers and broaches from well-known ancestors, each with a story if one were to ask.

Plastic smiles, fixed eyes, a strong and proud stance.

There she was among them. A world of politics.

In a fitting red dress, Victoria walked to her round table and sits. Its by habit that she glances and recalls their names and each person’s details, in case they start a conversation. Most would perceive this as ease, but it’s constant homework to decide who were your friends and who were the most beneficial.

And the best way to go about that was not just your name, but your image.

She noticed the spare wayward glances and recognized the brief figure of the moment. A widow in her mid forties with more money than she can spend, and is never alone at these gatherings. Proving her point, there’s yet another young man in her grasp.

She knew there was something different about their glances; it was envy.

It’s later into the evening when the woman must have tired herself, and walks to her table, having showed off her man to just about everyone.

“Victoria,” she greeted.

She smiled; for some reason, she had taken a liking to Victoria. And though she’s uncertain as to the reason why, she accepts her gracious attitude towards her. It’s exhausting though. It’s often easier being hated than being liked.

“Enjoying yourself?” Victoria asks.

“Oh, very much so.” She boasts of the man in her arms. “It was such work convincing him to join me tonight, but it was worth it.”

“I’m glad my presence is worthy then.” He says sweetly, and she grins.

Victoria should be in shock, or at least in subtle surprise of the type of man he is, but she’s attended so many functions, nearly nothing fazes her.

Another man after money, what’s new? Victoria thinks lightly as she drinks her champagne. She sets it down and notices the man’s studying her from her side vision.

She sometimes wondered how she was perceived by the likes of them. Maybe another potential source of income.

“Unfortunately, I cannot spend more time with you. I regret having to leave you here.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to being by myself!” She says rather happily.

He then leans in rather close, holding her hand, lips curved just right. “A lady such as yourself never deserves to be alone.”

The man happens to meet Victoria’s eyes, she wonders if he can see the skepticism in them. When he takes his leave, the aged woman returns from her trance and faces the younger.

“I’d like to see him again.” Her auntie says in a dream-like manner, this close to fanning herself.

Victoria gives a trained smile and lifts her glass; he must have done his job perfectly then.

-

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other.”

Victoria shifted her face and obscures her eyes with her bangs.

“Please understand, I have to get married. It’s what we need for our company.”

Victoria’s shoulders shake and she hears him sigh, “I’m sorry,” he adds before standing up and taking leave.

Once she hears the door move, she checks from the corner of her eye and sees his back crossing the streets. She lifts her head and returns to her stance.

“Could have at least paid the bill,” she murmurs as she looks at their drinks set on the table. She didn’t see how he didn’t just end it with her when he was first considering the option, but apparently keeping her lingering by was his best and only option.

Still, it did bother her. It’s already happened one too many. For whatever reason, she wasn’t the exact girl that could benefit their respective families.

She decided not to put much thought to it, and pays before setting her leave.

She then sighed outside, realizing he was her ride here, he was worse than the others. Night’s already settled as she walks through the streets, nearly every other cab taken or out of service.

“Miss, are you cold?”

She continues walking as the man chases her. “I’m cold, so you must be, would you like my jacket?” He asks as he maintains her fast pace. She keeps going until a second voice tells the man to “let her go.”

She recognizes the group of men crowded together in black attire, dressed professional yet with their dress shirt ed from the top, hair dyed and often piercings to go with. These men didn’t miss her long. The young (and she admits good looking) men begins chasing after yet another woman.

She, like other young women, were hounded by them. They never went after just anyone, they easily knew with less than a 5-second glance which women held money.

She reached for her cell, debating who to call, number after number she begins to realize that no one would really bother. After the seemingly endless list, Victoria realizes quickly just how little she could depend on someone.

”A lady such as yourself never deserves to be alone.”

Victoria blinked, looking about the area. Though the cafe she was at was rather high class, the area she was in was gradually covered in neon signs and large posters. She keeps going through, though its location suggests she shouldn’t. Women like herself walked through here often, and it appeared it was safe for the most part.

She just had to worry once she stepped in.

The premise where he worked was little to behold. She paused by a particularly large sign that held many names and showed photos of the many men inside. Then in the top five, she recognized the man from last night.

#3 host: Kris.

She then turned away and returned to her cell, her curiosity was fulfilled enough. She began to turn the opposite direction,

“Victoria?”

She stopped, wondering who’d recognize her? She shifts her eyes and sees under the bright lights, a young woman waving her hand from behind the glass doors who steps outside on the short stairwell.

“Krystal,” she realizes.

With her high inch heels nearly stabbed into the rubbled cement, Victoria carefully steps where she is. Krystal hurries to accommodate her and greets her once she enters. “I can’t believe it’s really you.”

“How... How-”

“Here,” Krystal offers and plants newspapers by her feet. “You can dry them, or if you want, I could get you a towel.” She suggests.

Victoria tried to force a smile, “It’s fine, thank you.” She says sincerely to her youthful smile.

She had met her during their usual reaches to the poor, she remembered it being at a book reading to children, a sign of propaganda for the family. She had seen Krystal not within the nicely lit library, but just outside crawling through its trash when they left to their town car.

She was one of the few she kept in contact with, though as of late, she hadn’t seen her come by in a while.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh!” Krystal said excitedly, “I finally got a job.”

Victoria sees the bruises highlighted beneath her see through blouse, the scuffs against her shoes and the smeared lipstick on her lips.

What more could she say? And though her heart’s breaking inside, she does her best to appear proud.

“I’m glad.” She musters, and Krystal smiles happily.

“Oh, I have to go back, but I’m glad to see you again. You look beautiful,” she compliments, eyes curved. Victoria isn’t sure what to say in situations like this.

Unlike the many in her life, it’s a rare moment to be complimented so honestly, everything that Krystal’s ever said to her was honest. “You’re beautiful too,” Victoria says softly with a curved smile, Krystal shyly hides her face and fixes her hair in the mirror.

“Wait, do you have a phone?”

Krystal nods and holds it out, Victoria types it in and hands it back.

“Call me.” She encourages. Krystal blinks but nods just the same.

“I will,” Krystal grins and waves before heading back inside.

Victoria clears , though the building she was standing in appeared normal, she knew the sort of services being held inside. Shaken, she turns away and walks down the steps. She looks back at the large sign hanging above, and feels sickened even more.

A door slams and she turns around, seeing a host an older woman to her taxi and closes the door for her. She does her best not to look.

“Is that your actual number or a directed service?”

She turns her head and sees the man still standing there. Had he witnessed the entire scene?

“My number,” she answers.

He blinks, and smiles, but it isn’t so kind as the one she witnessed the night before. “A personal number, how rare.”

Kris scoffs. “Isn’t that a politician's favorite move, to look on the poor with pity, but with cleaned hands clasped behind their back.”

Rather than the charming eye he favored the lady with, his eyes are cold and dripped with disdain.

“They say there is a monster hidden beneath all glamour.” She spoke softly, her voice carries through the polluted noise.

The devilish smile wears across his face, “What’s residing in you must be the most horrific one yet.”

His turned back should have been the final image she saw of him. His cruel remark the last she hears of his deep voice.

If she had walked away, this may have been the last she saw of him.

Everything might have been different if she hadn’t stepped through the puddled grounds towards the grimy doors, and step inside.