It had been five years since I was kicked out, and I ran into my brother at a fancy bar. He was the VIP, casually dropping thousands on Skylar, the daughter of a prominent family friend. Me? I was just a bottle girl, working for commission based on how many bottles I sold. All night, we pretended the other didn’t exist. Until I, deadpan, chugged two bottles of whiskey for a measly fifty dollars in tips. Watching the color drain from my face, he pursed his lips and spoke, his voice ice-cold: “You’d rather do this kind of work than come home and admit you were wrong?” “Aubrey, you’re really something.” I just gave a noncommittal smile, extending my hand toward him. “Fifty dollars. Cash, or Zelle?” Silence fell over the private room. Everyone stared at me, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. Someone snickered. My brother, Jackson Brook, sitting on the plush sofa, instantly scowled. He was embarrassed. Fifty dollars. For someone like him, it wouldn’t even cover a coffee. But here I was, humiliating myself by chugging two bottles of top-shelf liquor. Skylar, his socialite friend, sneered at me. “Jackson’s been waiting for you to come home. And this is what you’re doing? Doesn’t it feel dirty?” I shot her a look. “It’s honest work. What’s dirty about it? I’m not selling myself.” She scoffed. “Are you that desperate for money? Drink two more bottles, and I’ll add another fifty.” As her words hung in the air, the onlookers started egging me on. “Drink it! If Skylar adds fifty, I’ll add fifty too!” “You add, I add! I’ll throw in a hundred!” Without hesitation, I reached for another bottle. The door to the private room suddenly swung open. Mr. Davies, the manager, scurried in, a sycophantic grin plastered on his face. He pushed me aside and asked Jackson, fawning: “Mr. Brook, has our employee done something wrong?” “Please don’t be angry, sir. She can be a bit blunt. If she…” “Are you going to drink for her?” Jackson cut him off coldly, his eyes slowly narrowing. Sweat beaded on Mr. Davies’ forehead. He didn’t want to stick up for me, but he also didn’t want trouble if I collapsed from drinking. He chuckled nervously. “That’s too much alcohol, even for a grown man, let alone a young woman.” “Drink up, or get out!” Jackson frowned impatiently, pulling a wad of bills from his wallet and slamming them onto Mr. Davies. “Fifty thousand dollars. Aubrey isn’t going anywhere tonight. If you try to stop her again, this bar can forget about opening tomorrow!” Mr. Davies fumbled to pocket the money, his face practically beaming. He couldn’t care less about me now. He mumbled a quick thank you and strode away proudly. All eyes were on me again. Jackson sneered. “What? Don’t want the money anymore?” I walked over, emotionless, grabbed a bottle, and chugged it down. Having already downed two, my stomach was twisting in knots. So this bottle went down slowly, drawing a fresh wave of mockery. Jackson’s face grew darker and darker. As I finished one bottle and stumbled over to grab the next, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Are you trying to kill yourself, Aubrey?!” “I want the money.” I pulled my hand free, snatched the bottle, and poured it into my mouth. I actually had a plan. The lighting in the room was dim. I could pretend to lose my grip while drinking. No one would notice if I spilled a little. But just as I took a sip, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. SMACK! I froze, stunned, and the bottle slipped from my hand, shattering on the floor. Jackson gritted his teeth, furious. “For money, are you really that shameless?!” “Stop drinking! Even if you die, I won’t give you a cent!” The alcohol hit me hard, and everything started to blur. That voice, buried deep in my heart for five years, suddenly roared in my ears: “You sold Mom’s keepsake for money?! Did you lack for anything? Why didn’t you just sell yourself instead?!” “Get out! I don’t have a sister anymore!”
Five years ago, Skylar royally screwed me over. She stole Mom’s mementoes from Jacksond sold them, then blamed it on me. Jackson was furious, accusing me of selling them. He interrogated me non-stop about where I’d sold them, but I had no idea. I told him it was Skylar’s scheme, that she just hated how good he was to me. But he just wouldn’t believe me. Stealing, disrespect, and stubbornness. Each accusation hit a nerve with him. With Skylar adding fuel to the fire, he confiscated all my money and kicked me out of the house. For the first six months, I managed pretty well. I found a sales job, enough to support myself with a little left over. But after six months, everything changed. Jackson called me for the only time in five years. His first words were: “Aren’t you coming back to admit your mistake? Just tell me where you sold it, and I’ll forgive you.” Stubborn, I roared back at him: “I told you it wasn’t me! Didn’t you hear? Ask your ‘good friend’ Skylar, she’s the one who sold it!” Jackson hung up immediately. That same day, I was fired. He spread the word throughout the entire city: anyone who dared to help me would be crossing him. So, for the next few years, I couldn’t find any legitimate work. I could only do odd jobs in nightclubs. He seemed to be doing it on purpose, not only boldly announcing Skylar as the sole heir to the company. He even took her to interviews, galas, and auctions. He was always spending lavishly, millions at a time. His and Skylar’s faces were constantly on the financial news channel. While I hid in the shadows, drinking myself sick just to survive. I developed stomach cancer. These past few years, I’d desperately sought treatment, spending all my money. I took out many high-interest loans, but it still wasn’t enough. The specialized medication was too expensive, and chemotherapy was beyond my means. I even called Jackson once, asking for money. He cut me off impatiently after just a few words. “Money, money, money! Is that all you care about?!” “Don’t even think about getting a cent from me until you come back and apologize. Just go die out there for all I care!” That phone call, that was when I completely lost all hope of living. I was just so tired, truly. If he wanted me dead, then I’d die. At least, the pain would stop. A month ago, I ordered an urn for myself. After scraping together what I could, I was still fifty dollars short for the final payment. The vendor called almost every day, hounding me. I thought I’d finally have enough today. But who knew Jackson would give the manager fifty thousand dollars, yet refuse to spare me fifty? He left the bar with his entourage, a huge fuss. While I was in the bathroom, throwing up until the world spun. Only one thought echoed in my mind. Three bottles of liquor, all for nothing. Leo, the supervisor, was smoking next to me. “How did you piss off Mr. Brook so badly? His face was green when he left. What’s your relationship with him?” My stomach was cramping, and my head was spinning. I could barely keep my eyes open, clinging to the toilet to keep from falling in. “I don’t know him. An enemy, I guess.”
The next day, I was woken by my phone ringing. It was Mr. Henderson, the urn vendor. “Ms. Aubrey, when are you going to pay the rest? It’s just fifty dollars, do you really need a whole month?” “If you can’t pay within three days, I won’t hold it for you, and the deposit is non-refundable!” My voice was hoarse with desperation. “Please give me more time. I get paid in two weeks, then I’ll—” “Can’t wait two weeks!” He cut me off, his tone unpleasant. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, dragging their feet even for an urn.” “If you don’t have the money, don’t order something so expensive in the first place!” I wanted to say more, but before I could, he hung up. My head was pounding. I called Mr. Davies, hoping to get an advance on my paycheck. But his response was even more ruthless. “Just letting you know, you don’t need to come to work today.” “And there’s no way we can pay you. If Jackson says so, there’s nothing we can do.” My head spun. My voice cracked with urgency. “What you’re doing is illegal! I’ll file a lawsuit!” Mr. Davies scoffed. “A lawsuit? Go ahead. Jackson said he’ll bear any consequences. His legal team is top-notch. If you insist on running headfirst into trouble, there’s nothing I can do.” With that, the call was disconnected again. A knot of frustration tightened in my chest, refusing to go up or down. My face was pale with discomfort, and my throat tasted like rust. Suddenly, a mouthful of fresh blood gushed out. I stared at the glaring red puddle, and the tears I’d been holding back finally streamed down my face. After a long moment, I pulled out some tissues and wiped the blood away. Then, with practiced ease, I pulled out my painkillers and swallowed them whole. After all that, I barely had any strength left. Leaning against the bed, I replayed the last five years since I was kicked out. I suddenly realized that every single one of my backup plans had been cut off by Jackson himself. Now, I couldn’t even work at a nightclub anymore. Just eating became a struggle, let alone affording painkillers or the urn. All I wanted was a quiet corner to rest in when I died. What was so wrong with that? I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, crying until the afternoon, before I managed to regain some strength. Looking at my trembling hands, I finally decided to go home. I needed to ask Jackson, why he was doing this to me!
When I arrived home, Jackson and Skylar were having dinner. He glanced at me, his voice devoid of emotion. “Finally decided to come back?” “Why did you get Mr. Davies to fire me?” I countered, my face expressionless, completely ignoring his question. “It’s been five years. Haven’t you humiliated me enough?” He raised an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. “How else would you know that home is best unless you suffered a little?” “Aubrey, do you know what people are saying about you out there? I’ve been keeping the worst of it from you, and you’re not even grateful?” Skylar put down her forks and spoke sarcastically. “Jackson, Aubrey doesn’t understand how good you are to her. Look at her, she’s clearly blaming you!” “Shut up!” I couldn’t take it anymore and lunged forward, raising my hand to slap her. But the next second, Jackson grabbed my wrist. His face was cold as ice, his voice chilling. “Now you’ve learned to hit people? I guess you’ll never realize where you went wrong!” “Do you really think I can’t make life impossible for you in this city?” My heart clenched, as if someone had squeezed it tight. Impossible life? Hadn’t he been doing that for years? One by one, destroying my jobs, crushing my hopes. Leaving me worse than a rat in a gutter, tattered and broken, unable to even afford an urn. I’d had enough, enough of his threats! My emotions burst, and I screamed in despair, “I didn’t do anything wrong!” “Jackson, if you don’t want me to live, then I’ll just die, okay?!” “I’ll go to hell, you can’t control that, can you?!” He seemed enraged by my words, a vein throbbing in his temple. “Even in death, you’ll still owe me!” With that, he shoved me. It wasn’t a hard push, but I still lost my balance and fell. My lower back hit the dining table, sending a sharp pain through me. My face went instantly pale, and cold sweat broke out. A flicker of regret crossed Jackson’s eyes, then he turned his back on me. “Until Mom’s mementoes are recovered, you don’t even have the right to die!” He said, then quickly left. I was in too much pain to get up. Skylar stood over me, arms crossed, looking down. “Aubrey, look at you now, so pathetic, isn’t it?” “How about this? You kneel and beg me, and I’ll tell you who bought that worthless bracelet, okay?” I glared at her, my eyes blazing, wishing I could tear her apart. But I knew I didn’t even have the strength to hit her. Five years of humiliating survival, and now, even in death, I couldn’t have a shred of dignity. Jackson’s words still echoed in my ears: “Until Mom’s mementoes are recovered, you don’t even have the right to die!” “Even in death, you’ll still owe me!” Fine. If I found the mementoes, then I could finally die in peace, right? I desperately wiped the tears from my face, knelt at Skylar’s feet, and bowed my head to the ground three times. “Please, tell me where Mom’s mementoes are.” Before, when she plotted against me, I would fight back with all my might. But these past few times, I hadn’t even argued. Skylar suddenly seemed to lose interest. She simply tossed a piece of paper at me. “That’s the address. But Aubrey, you still have to be able to get it back, you know!”
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