Escape

I jolted awake to the blaring screech of my phone alarm—my usual reminder for rounding up at the work I no longer had, my body stiff from exhaustion. My eyelids fluttered heavily as I looked around, disoriented. The light outside had dimmed, dusk settling in with an eerie stillness.

How long was I asleep? I muttered, rubbing my eyes as I reached for my phone to silence the damned thing. The screen lit up with several missed calls—Sarah, my love—and Eric, the dog-vomit of a man.

I ignored his pathetic attempts at contact and called Sarah instead.

"Aria!" Her voice shot through the line, high-pitched and frantic. "I heard what happened! Are you okay? I've been calling all afternoon!"

"Ugh. I wish," I muttered, forcing my heavy body upright. My throat was raw, my words scraping out hoarse. "You out of work? Let's meet at the club."

"Yeah, I just left HQ. I'll shower and change first." A pause. "Aria… are you sure you're okay? You sound—"

"You'll see me soon man. Judge for yourself."

A beat of silence. Then, reluctantly, she sighed. "Alright baby. See you soon."

"Yeah. Bye."

The call cut off, and I exhaled, dragging a hand through my tangled hair before pushing off the bed. I needed out.

The second I stepped into the living room, Caleb, my niece, spotted me first. "Aria!" he squeaked, barreling toward me with tiny arms outstretched.

Michael flinched as our eyes met. Coward. I ignored him completely, focusing on the happy little bean who crashed against me, his warmth melting some of the ice in my chest.

Caleb was one of the reasons I tolerated his sad excuse of a father. I never really understood why, but ever since he was a baby, he'd latched onto me, and I hadn't been able to resist his charm.

I lingered for a while, playing with him, letting his innocent laughter soothe the storm inside me. But it wouldn't last.

Tonight, I needed an escape.

With one last ruffle of Caleb's hair, I grabbed my bag and stepped out, leaving behind the suffocating weight of home as I made my way to the club to meet Sarah.

The heavy bass pulsed through the air, vibrating beneath my feet as I stepped inside the club. The place was packed, bodies swaying under the neon haze, the scent of liquor and sweat thick and suffocating. Conversations clashed with the pounding music, voices raised, laughter sharp.

My eyes swept the dimly lit room until they landed on Sarah. She was perched at the bar, one leg crossed over the other, nursing a drink with that usual effortless elegance she carried. Her blue eyes flicked up the second I approached, widening with relief as she immediately stood and closed the distance between us.

"Aria." Her voice barely cut through the noise, but the way she wrapped her arms around me spoke louder than words. The embrace was tight, lingering, like she was afraid I'd slip away if she let go too soon.

For a moment, I let myself sink into it. The warmth, the familiarity. But the knot in my chest refused to unravel.

She finally pulled back, studying my face, searching for something in my expression. Whatever she found only made her frown deepen.

"You look like hell."

"Good," I muttered, sliding onto the barstool. "I feel worse."

Sarah exhaled sharply, her fingers twitching around her glass as I signaled the bartender.

"Something strong," I ordered. "And don't be stingy with the pour."

The bartender nodded, grabbing a bottle of dark amber liquid and filling my glass to the brim. I took it, swirling the liquid before downing a large sip. It burned down my throat, but the fire was welcome—it matched the one already raging inside me.

Sarah watched me cautiously, sipping her own drink. "So… are we gonna talk about it? Or are we drinking it away first?"

I smirked, lifting my glass in a mock toast. "We drink first. Then we see if there's anything left worth talking about."

She sighed but didn't argue, simply clinking her glass against mine before taking a deep swig.

Tonight, I wasn't looking for comfort.

I was looking to forget.

The club's neon lights cast shifting colors over my flushed face as I slammed my fourth glass down, liquid courage burning a path down my throat. Sarah watched, concerned, but I was already too deep in the haze to care.

"You know what, Sarah?" I slurred, dragging a hand through my hair, wild eyes burning with rage and liquor. "I hate him. I loath him. That smug, heartless, cold-blooded scumbag."

Sarah sighed beside me, shifting in her seat. "Aria, maybe slow down—"

"No! No, I won't slow down!" My voice wobbled, but it wasn't from the alcohol. It was from the sheer, molten fury still bubbling in my chest, threatening to spill over. "That piece of shit fired me like I was nothing, Sarah. Like I didn't give seven years of my life to that goddamn company. Seven years! And for what? To be humiliated in front of everyone?"

I laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter thing. A joke the universe had played on me.

Sarah reached for my arm, her voice softer now. "I know it's unfair, but—"

"Unfair?" I scoffed, dragging a hand through my hair, my fingers tangling in the mess of strands. "Unfair is me walking into my boyfriend's apartment after getting fired for comfort only to find him balls-deep in some random bitch. Unfair is dragging two jobless idiots into my house just for them to breathe my goddamn air rent-free. And unfair is Kael fucking Roman acting like he's some goddamn god who gets to decide my entire fucking life with a snap of his fingers."

His name tasted like poison on my tongue, like something rotten festering in my mouth. Images of the infuriating smug on his face as I stood watching him fuck Mia flashed through my mind. That horny excuse of a president.

Sarah flinched, her grip tightening around her glass. "Aria…"

"I despise him," I spat, my hands curling into fists. "I despise him so much, Sarah, I can feel it in my bones. If I ever see that son of a bitch again, I swear, I'll—"

"What?" Sarah pressed cautiously, eyes scanning my face.

I inhaled sharply, the alcohol mixing with my bloodlust in a way that made my entire body hum. I exhaled, a slow, dangerous smile stretching my lips.

"I'll make that mother fucker regret ever underestimating me."

"Come on Aria—" Sarah cooed but I cut her off sharply.

"And do you know the not so funny part?"

"What?"

"That hound was blowing his secretary's back out when I went to his office to confront him. And I just stood and watched till he came."

An audible gasp escaped Sarah's mouth, her hands flying to cover them. "Mia?"

I nodded, picking up another glass to drink. "Yup—you should have seen her face."