"Mina! MINA! Wake up!"
Lysa shook her sister like her life depended on it.
"I'm awake, I'm awake," Mina grumbled, pulling the thin blanket over her head.
"No, seriously. We're going to buy you new clothes and shoes today. And don't forget—you've got a job to find."
The word job snapped Mina fully awake. She sat up like someone had poured cold water on her.
"Okay, I'm up," she said, rubbing her eyes.
Clothes didn't matter much to her—not right now. The shoes, maybe. But the job—that mattered. The chance to finally earn something. To fix things. That was all she wanted.
It was just past 6 a.m. The sky still looked sleepy, painted in pale grey. They got ready in their usual way—quiet, fast, and careful. They headed to their little washing spot, hidden behind overgrown bushes, with nothing but a thin cloth to shield their bodies. No one ever came there. And if someone did, they'd just act like it was nothing.
After washing up, Mina threw on her old, worn-out shirt and faded jeans. She glanced at the rip near the hem. The hope of a new outfit felt distant, but not impossible. They had $500. It had to be enough.
She sighed, tying her hair back. "Let's just hope the price is worth it."
Lysa looked at her with a soft smile. "It will be."
—-----—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Ughhh, are you kidding me?" Mina groaned as she eyed the price tags. "What the actual hell? Why are these so expensive? They're literally just thrifts."
She turned to the woman behind the counter—a middle-aged lady with a stiff bun and an even stiffer attitude. "Ma, be real with me. This price? For these?"
The woman raised a brow. "They're just $400, ma."
"Just $400?" Mina's voice climbed. "Are you hearing yourself?"
Lysa, sensing where this was going, gently tugged on her sister's sleeve. "Mina, stop. This is actually a good price—for three shirts, two jeans, and a pair of shoes? Come on."
But Mina wasn't having it. Her pride and her empty wallet were teaming up for war.
"We'll take all of it for $200," she said, folding her arms and glaring at the cashier.
The woman's eyes narrowed. "Please leave my store."
"I'm a customer," Mina snapped. "I have a right—"
"I hate customers who lack common sense," the woman cut in sharply.
Mina blinked, stunned. "Excuse me? I lack common sense because I'm bargaining? For these cheap clothes?"
"Get. Out." The woman turned to call security. "Take them out of my store."
Two guards appeared almost instantly.
"Ma'am, you need to leave."
Lysa, face flushed with shame, stepped forward and grabbed the folded bills from Mina's hand. Without another word, she handed the woman $400.
The cashier snatched the money and shoved a plastic bag of clothes at them.
"Take it. And don't come back."
Before either of them could respond, the guards dragged them toward the exit and slammed the door behind them.
Mina stood frozen for a second. "Well," she muttered, "at least I got the damn shoe and clothes."
"Cheer up, Mina. We still have a hundred dollars left," Lysa said softly, nudging her sister gently.
They walked side by side down the uneven sidewalk, eyes scanning buildings for any Help Wanted signs. Mina kept grumbling as they moved.
"They didn't even let me try on the clothes," she muttered, tugging at the worn-out shirt that barely fit her. "I can't go job hunting looking like this. I'll get thrown out again."
"Maybe they'll pity us more," Lysa said, half-joking, half-hopeful.
As they turned a corner, Lysa's eyes landed on a sleek hotel with glass doors and gold-trimmed signs. She nudged Mina again. "Let's go apply there. You could try for a cleaning job, and I'll ask about waitressing. I'm not letting you do this alone."
Mina stared up at the towering building and groaned. "Lysa, look at that place. It reeks of money. They won't even let people like us through the front door."
"We don't know that," Lysa replied. "Let's just try. What's the worst that could happen?"
Mina hesitated, looking at the polished glass, the revolving doors. Everything looked so fucking clean. She stared at her reflection in the glass—creased shirt, faded jeans, eyes heavy with stress. Then she looked at Lysa, steady and determined.
"Okay," she said quietly. "Let's risk it. What's the worst that could happen… right?"
And together, they stepped into the hotel.
—------—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They walked in.
Their steps were small, cautious—like mice in a ballroom full of wolves. Mina's hand instinctively clutched Lysa's, and Lysa squeezed it right back. They kept their heads low, but that didn't stop the burning stares from piercing through them.
The hotel was pristine—gold chandeliers hanging like melting suns, polished floors gleaming so bright they could see their own anxious reflections. A soft classical tune played in the background, elegant and far too refined for their dirt-worn shoes.
People sat with wine glasses, dressed in tailored suits and silk gowns. All heads turned when Mina and Lysa walked in.
The whispers started.
"Who let those two in?"
"Is this some kind of joke?"
"God, the smell…"
They tried to ignore it. Tried.
But then—
"Excuse me," a deep voice interrupted from behind them.
They froze. Turned slowly. A security guard stood there, tall and intimidating in a black suit with an earpiece.
"I'm sorry," he said firmly, "but you can't come in here dressed like that."
Mina gave Lysa a glance, her lips twitching in frustration.
"Uhm…" Lysa stammered. "They're, uh… costumes! Yeah, just… cosplay. For a themed job interview," she laughed nervously.
The man didn't even blink.
"I kindly request you to leave. We have very important guests inside. More are arriving. And—well, with all due respect, rags like yours are not permitted."
Mina's jaw clenched.
Rags?
She felt her blood rise like lava under her skin. She took one step forward, about to clap back, but Lysa gently pulled her arm. Mina paused. Looked down at their clothes. Torn shirts. Dusty shoes. Okay… yeah. Maybe the man had a point. But he didn't have to say it like that.
"Okay," Mina said through gritted teeth. "We'll leave. Come on, Lysa."
They turned, humiliated, about to walk out—
When two sleek black cars pulled up to the hotel entrance, their engines humming low with authority. The polished surfaces gleamed under the morning light, and something about their arrival made everything else—noise, people, even the sting of embarrassment—fade into the background.
Mina and Lysa stopped in their tracks, eyes locked on the scene unfolding before them.
A uniformed driver stepped out from the first car and circled smoothly to the passenger side. The door opened with a soft click, and a woman stepped out.
Lysa's breath hitched.
The woman who emerged was unlike anyone she had ever seen. Her violet eyes were calm but sharp ,glistering like diamonds. Her short, jet-black hair was styled effortlessly, and her face—soft yet commanding—looked like it had been painted by gods. Her skin glistened under the morning sun, flawless and radiant. She wore a deep navy suit that hugged her tall frame like it had been stitched onto her soul. There was something about her presence—strategic, dominant, wise. She didn't need to speak to command the entire street.
Then, from the second car, another woman emerged.
And for a moment, time slowed for Mina.
She had long, jet-black hair that shimmered like silk in the sun, cascading down her back in smooth waves. Her amber eyes were deep and alive, glowing with something fierce yet composed. She wore a cream blazer over a dark top, her silhouette sharp and graceful. But it wasn't just her beauty that struck—it was the way the world seemed to hush as she moved, as if it made space for her.
Mina blinked hard, her heart skipping a beat.
She knew that face.
Her stomach tightened. Her thoughts scrambled.
No. It couldn't be.
But it was.