I was escorted, dressed in second-skinned clothing with heels, to meet the 'boss' of the game slum to register as the newest member. As we approached the door, I felt no emotion, not even an ounce of regret, as regards my decision to sell my soul to this profession. I felt nothing and nothing else could work better, not having to feel anything was the best resolve yet.

We didn't even have to knock, we just went in like it's no biggie. As we entered another room, a couple of eyes rested on us, particularly on me because I was the only stranger present.

"Here we are, boss." The big guy that accompanied Clara and I said with a trace of satisfaction in his voice. I don't blame him, even though I feel satisfied.

The boss, who appeared to be a small-looking woman, probably in her late thirties, looked me up and down and smiled after her brief scan of my body.

"Where did you get her from?" The boss didn't wait for a response. "She's a good one." She concluded.

I stood in their midst emotionless. My gaze bore into the walls choosing not to stare at any being present.

"What's your name pretty?" The boss asked me.

I instantly reminded myself that the old me was dead and gone as well as the name. I guess this was an opportunity to opt for a new identity. An identity that'll now define me for the rest of my life.

"Ana", I said confidently. The boss seems to roll her eyes. "I hope you won't scare the customers away with that cold expression." She face-palmed herself and approached me. "I didn't force you to make it here, so loosen up bitch! Don't upset me!"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and made an attempt to smile for the first time in five years. I guess it was a sloppy attempt because she instantly groaned.

"Get out." She said to me and referred to my escorts, "Take her to level one and bring her back later. So I can conclude my business with this gentleman."

That was when I fully noticed the calm-looking man at the far-end corner of her office. He looked undisturbed and also like someone who wouldn't give two sh*ts even if the world was coming to an end. He was brazen enough to tilt his head to the side to get a better view of me as if parts of me were fading fast into the atmosphere.

My escorts dragged me out of the boss' office and took me to the 'level one' earlier instructed. I still didn't feel anything, and maybe, just maybe, that would make the job easier.

Level one was a dank room dimly lit up to my disappointment and the supposed customers wore masks to conceal their identity. Well, I was made to understand that only their VIPs wore masks, and their regulars just appeared regular and nothing more. Clara had assuringly squeezed my hands after giving me a small bottle of gin and a few cards of pills to take, establishing the fact that those would make it all easy and endurable.

I shivered at the thought but I pinched myself to compose my thoughts and expression. I signed up for this and I'm more than willing to get through with it. I was told only those from level two upwards could get the full pay, bonuses, and tips for themselves. The level pay-one candidate goes solely to the boss except for the tips, so as long as I remain in level one, I'd be simply slaving away my body with practically no money to pay my bills. I already want to go through extents to reach level two and possibly breach it to level three where I'd become a VIP candidate who's doubly sponsored. I knew it wouldn't be easy, and Clara, who's in level two, had confirmed my thoughts.

I braced myself waiting for my customer, my gaze glued to the door. The very first customer that would soil me into this profession was probably just a few feet away, and just then, the door shrieked open, and in came my first male experience in level one.

No one cared to ask how my first experience as a level one was and I didn't even feel any inclination to tell. I just placed my thoughts and my whole being on the goal my second chance at existence is meant to achieve, which is revenge. I must make them pay for what they did to me and nothing in hell will stop me.

I went back to the boss' office on my own and I settled myself quietly on a cushion in front of her.

"I didn't even tell you to sit yet," she puffed up smoke from her cigarette. "You're one hell of a kind". She added, seeing that I made no move to undo what I'd done. She stood from her position and approached me, "Stubborn, yes. Uninterestingly mute yet fascinating, but you got to knock it off when it comes to customers and, might I add, when you're in my office". She halted in very close proximity to me. "Do you understand, Ana?"

I nodded and she scoffed. "Use your vocals for heaven's sake!"

"Yes, boss". I said much to her boredom.

She retreated back to her seat. "You can call me Manie."

"Yes". I responded. I had one question, hitching my lips to blab,, and decided to just ask away instead of brooding in assumption.

"Manie, to what extent do I have to go to get to level two?"

"Woah.. I see someone's already impatient", she laughed out loud almost in mockery.

She eventually stopped laughing and plastered a frown on her face. "Depends on the rounds you're able to function for; every night for eight weeks. Not to talk of the customers your inclination".

I had a brazen idea it'd be that way. "But luckily for you, there's a shortcut to utter freedom up to the sponsor level three".." he tried to force a smile on that note. But I still expressed no emotion whatsoever. I just waited for her to tell me the obvious shortcut because I could tell my bones shivered in desperation.