WALTER LIN
10:00 AM - Four Hours After Serena Left for Work
I yawned as I stretched out my arms, feeling every muscle creak like an old machine booting back to life. I had just woken up-from a nap. Yes, a morning nap. Don't judge me. Some people wake with the sun, run marathons, and conquer boardrooms. I, on the other hand, conquer dreams...and possibly pancakes.
I rolled onto my back and stretched again, arching like a cat, then reached beneath the bed with one hand. My fingers fumbled until they brushed something lacy and soft-aha, my bra. I'd tossed it there last night during a particularly dramatic flail in the heat. Don't ask. This apartment doesn't have the best air conditioning, which in itself should be a crime considering what Serena pays for rent.
After snapping it on with the finesse of someone who's done this one-handed far too many times, I slipped into my bunny-eared slippers-yes, they're fluffy and adorable-and shuffled out of the room like a zombie halfway through a transformation.
The kitchen welcomed me with silence and the faint smell of maple syrup. On the counter sat a plate, lovingly covered by a cloth to keep it warm (or at least keep the bugs out). I lifted the cover to reveal cold pancakes. My heart swelled a little.
Serena had made breakfast again.
I plopped onto one of the bar stools, grabbed my laptop from the couch, and set it down on the counter beside my breakfast. I took a bite of the pancake. Still good, even cold. Serena could have opened a bakery in another life. Instead, she chose the path of a corporate soldier. Up by 5:00 AM, home after 8:00 PM. Every single day. She was like some warrior goddess wrapped in pencil skirts and courtroom confidence. I don't know how she does it. Honestly, I'd collapse by lunchtime.
I opened my laptop, rubbing sleep from my eyes as it booted up. Lately, I'd been trying to find a job on my own without leaning on Serena's contacts. All the ones she suggested sounded like modern torture-jobs that started at 3:00 AM and ended after the sun had given up on us. No thank you.
Instead, I'd found something... interesting.
A shady little website called Night's Watch. It was buried deep in the internet-so deep you practically needed a torch and rope to find it. If I hadn't known my way around code, I never would've stumbled across it. But you know what they say: the rarest gems hide in the darkest caves.
I logged in. The interface looked like it hadn't been updated since 2004. Black background, neon blue text, glitchy loading icons. So sketchy it was practically screaming run. But I was curious. And broke.
[NOTIFICATION: YOU HAVE RECEIVED AN OFFER.]
My eyes widened. "Whoa."
I clicked on the pop-up, my heart skipping a little.
[YOU HAVE RECEIVED AN OFFER OF 200,000,000 SVIL. THIS OFFER IS IN EXCHANGE FOR A JOB THAT REQUIRES YOUR DRIVING AND PROGRAMMING SKILLS. DO YOU ACCEPT?]
I blinked.
"Two... hundred... million?" I whispered, staring at the screen like it might suddenly vanish. My mind whirled. That kind of money could pay rent here for ninety years-maybe longer. I could finally contribute, pay Serena back for the medical bills, the food, the Wi-Fi I abuse, and the pancakes. I could even get my own place. Or a pet. Or air conditioning.
Before I could second-guess myself, I clicked ACCEPT.
A new message popped up instantly:
[CONGRATULATIONS. HEAD TO BAMJU AIR, LOT 1041 - PRIVATE LANDING STRIP - BY 16:00 PM TODAY. ARRIVE ON TIME TO RECEIVE INITIAL DEPOSIT.]
I choked on my bite of pancake.
"Today?" I cried, hopping off the stool in a panic. "You've gotta be kidding me!"
I shoved the rest of the pancake into my mouth, nearly inhaling it whole, and sprinted toward the bathroom. I had just under five hours to get ready-but listen, for me, that's barely enough time to pick an outfit.
By the time 14:45 rolled around, I was finally finished. What? A girl's gotta look good, okay? First impressions matter. And if I'm about to meet someone offering me two hundred million svil, I'm showing up as a glowing goddess.
I stood before the full-length mirror, sunlight streaking across the wooden floor like golden rivers. My reflection stared back, calm and fierce.
My top was a soft, off-white with one shoulder exposed-a whisper of elegance with a hint of drama. It billowed gently with each movement, like poetry wrapped in silk. Ruffles trailed down one side like petals caught in the wind, delicate and alive.
Paired with it, I wore faded high-waisted jeans that hugged my hips and flared slightly at the ankles. They had just the right amount of wear-worn in, not worn out. Practical. Pretty. Me.
My feet carried me an inch higher, thanks to my chunky white platform shoes-bold, unapologetic, and completely unnecessary. But they made a statement.
I slung my little shoulder bag across my chest, placed my phone inside, zipped up my backpack with my laptop already inside, and then moved to the ceramic vase on the console table. Serena always left emergency cash in there for food or delivery.
This was an emergency, right?
I took all of it-didn't even count. Who knows how much a trip to Bamju Air costs?
Before leaving, I locked the door behind me. Serena always forgot her key at work, I had to be back before her so she wouldn't be locked out if I wasn't home by the time she returned. I took a breath in the hallway and headed down to the lobby via the elevator. The ride took forever-36 floors of painfully slow descending. I could've aged.
As I stepped out into the lobby, a familiar voice greeted me.
"Hi, Walter!"
It was him-Timothy, the guy at the front desk with golden-blond hair that always looked like it had just been tousled by a perfect breeze. He had green eyes, a build like he worked out for fun, and the softest voice. His ears flushed pink the moment we made eye contact.
Serena insists he has a crush on me. I say he just has seasonal allergies.
"Hey, Timothy," I said with a bright smile, waving as I passed.
"Where are you off to this afternoon?" he asked, standing a little straighter.
"Work," I said, flashing a wink before turning on my heel and walking through the glass revolving doors. I caught his confused expression in the reflection, and it made me grin.
Outside, the streets of Solara Vale City buzzed with life. I flagged down one of the taxis already lined up by the curb and hopped in, the door shutting with a satisfying click.
As we pulled away, I glanced back once at the towering silhouette of our building-the home Serena had so selflessly shared with me.
Whatever this job was, wherever it took me... this was the first time in seven months I felt like I was moving toward something that was mine.
Something real.