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Juri

I got through the weekend without any incidents.

My clients were satisfied, and the night from Monday to Tuesday was more lucrative than ever.

However, now everything hurt, and I would definitely have a few bruises to show for it.

But those were minor compared to what I had been through in my life, and it was just part of my job.

After a hearty breakfast in the hotel restaurant, where I relaxed and treated myself to three coffees, I finally made my way to my former training placement.

Since I had already lost the job anyway, I could show up there in my personal style.

Let them see me with blackened eyes; I was done with the people there.

Since the rain had finally stopped, I decided to take a short walk through the city and reached the restaurant around eleven-thirty.

“They can’t kick you out for something like that,” Hector’s voice echoed in the back of my mind. “That’s not legal.”

Did I really want to fight against something like this? Did I want to spend the next three years working in a kitchen where everyone knew how I made extra money on the side because the darned apprentice wages weren’t enough to pay my bills?

No.

With determination, I opened the staff entrance and made my way through the dimly lit corridors to the kitchen.

It was the calm before the storm, and the chefs were busy with the mise en place for lunch.

Hardly anyone recognized me at first glance as I stood silently in the doorway, waiting for Peter Keller, my trainer, to notice me.

Even he looked at me and then turned back to his conversation with Andy, an apprentice.

It took him a second glance before he recognized me.

As he walked through the kitchen, I retreated into the hallway; there was no need for everyone to see how we conversed.

And by now, I knew the head chef well enough to see from his face that he welcomed this decision very much.

It was one thing to tell me over the phone that I was no longer welcome here.

But to look me in the eyes and not show how remorseful he was demanded a bit more from him.

“Juri, thank you for coming by. Come, let’s go to my office.”

My heart raced, and my hands were sweaty. Despite everything, I tried to appear as indifferent as possible and stared at him with an expressionless face. I was actually quite good at that.

“Please, have a seat,” Keller said kindly, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

The last time I was here, I had signed the contract.

I felt so humiliated. After all, I was being punished here for something that wasn’t even illegal.

As Keller gathered some documents, I retrieved the key out of my coat pocket and placed it on the table.

Since it was so hot in his office, I removed my scarf and laid it on my lap.

This prompted the stern chef to look at me for the first time.

And he did so with a rather horrified look.

I immediately realized what he saw, and I was an idiot for forgetting it.

Along with the long scar on the right side of my neck, there were also a few bruises since last night.

Although I hadn’t seen the marks yet, enough time had passed for the skin to turn slightly blue.

Keller swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Then he tore his gaze away from me and returned to the documents.

“We’ve prepared an employment reference certificate for you. And then please sign here to confirm that you returned the key.”

I signed on the line he showed me and placed the pen beside the key. Then I leaned back again and noticed Keller seemed puzzled that I didn’t take the certificate with me.

“Should I put it in an envelope for you? Yeah, I guess, that’s a good idea.” He turned his head from side to side. “Where did I put one?”

“Why are you nervous?” I asked bluntly. “You have no reason to be. After all, it’s the boss who fucks young men, not you.”

Keller froze and widened his eyes. It surprised me that I had rendered him speechless with just a few words, especially considering the much rougher tone that prevailed in the kitchen.

“It’s … about the reputation of the establishment,” he stammered, taking the key. “High-ranking guests come here every day.”

“Put me to work as a waiter for one evening, and I’ll tell you who frequents these circles.”

I had no idea why I had started this conversation or why I was continuing it. What did I hope to achieve anyway? After all, nothing would change about my situation. Somehow, I had always had a slight tendency toward drama.

“Juri, you have to understand …”

“Do I? No. I don’t think so.” My voice was monotone, yet I felt the emotions boiling inside me. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the facade. “You’re taking away my hope for a normal life here.”

Fuck! Where did that come from?

“Listen, Juri. I know this testimonial is just a drop in the ocean. But once you’ve sorted out your stuff, call me. I’d be happy to give you a reference if you need one. You’ll surely find another training placement. But for your own good: stop with this … whatever you want to call it.”

I looked at him, perplexed. “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t work the other way around. Without the extra money, I can’t afford to pursue training.”

“Don’t you have parents who …”

“Save me that crap.”

For a moment, we stared at each other in silence.

Keller appeared so lost that I wondered why I was punishing him for something he couldn't control. “Whatever,” I said, rising from my chair, grabbing the envelope with the testimonial, and folding it once to fit into my coat pocket. “I’m out of here.”

I was already in the dim corridor when Keller suddenly touched my arm. “Juri, wait. Maybe …”

Reflexively, I pushed him away and stepped back. “Hands off!” I hissed.

I knew he had no malicious intentions, but ever since I had escaped hell on earth, my body reacted much faster than my mind in such situations.

Keller stared at me in horror. “I’m sorry,” his expression told me that he also saw the shock on my face. “I meant it. Reach out to me if you need a reference. Anytime.”

Feeling agitated, I wrapped the scarf around my neck and hurried to the staff exit. Outside, I took a deep breath, leaned against a container, and lit a cigarette.

Damn it …

I let out a deep breath, lifting my gaze to the sky.

A cool breeze blew through the narrow alley, and the sun peeked out from behind a few clouds.

After three days of rain, this should have been a reason to feel relieved, but I just wanted to crawl into a hole.

With that in mind, I caught the next bus and headed home.

Maybe I should get some noise-canceling headphones , I thought, as the noise of a moaning concert greeted me at the building entrance.

Somehow, I didn’t find it too terrible that the apartment Romero rented me was in his Erotic World.

What bothered me more was that he didn’t give a shit about soundproofing.

The place operated 24 hours a day; there were always customers—no matter what time it was.

All I wanted at home was some peace and quiet.

“?Hola, Godo!” Romero stepped out of his apartment on the same floor. “You know, Friday is payday. Don’t let it end up like last month. I hate to threaten you.”

“You don’t need to threaten me,” I said wearily, forced to stop in front of him since he blocked my path to my door. Romero pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow, so I took out my phone and sent him the rent via the app.

When I moved in here, he wanted cash, but at least I was able to talk him out of that. This way, I didn’t have to pull out my wallet and count the cash in front of him. He didn’t need to know that I had earned triple the monthly rent this weekend.

“Here,” I said, holding out my phone so he could see the confirmation. “Now leave me alone until the end of the year.”

“Godo! Why so grumpy? Oh, oh … shouldn’t you be at the restaurant?”

“Will you let me pass?” I asked, annoyed.

But Romero was like a wall—sun-kissed and broad-shouldered—and furrowed his brows in a mentor-like manner. “Did you mess up?”

“It’s none of your business. Now get out of my way.”

“You know, you can always start working here with me.”

“And give you half of my earnings? No thanks.”

“You’re too proud! You have to see the advantages! You could host your clients here at home.”

The fact that Romero knew how I earned my money was humiliating enough. He never grew tired of reminding me of it every time he saw me. But it annoyed me even more that he kept reminding me that I couldn’t host my clients here.

I tried to convince myself that this situation was good.

This way, I kept work and personal life separate.

Still, it would have been easier. After all, the hourly rooms cost money, and not every client was willing to take me home with them.

Fortunately, in the two months since I had been living here, that had settled down, and my clients were aware of it.

New ones had replaced those I had lost because of it.

Ignoring Romero’s comment, I changed the subject because I remembered I was running low. “I ran out of stash. Got anything?”

“But of course.” A grin spread across Romero’s weathered face. Anything that made him money made him happy. “Come with me,” he said, opening his apartment door.

I didn’t like living on the same floor as him, but he was my last resort after my previous landlord found out I hosted my clients at home.

Following Romero through the hallway into the kitchen, I tried to disregard the tacky decor. He was a suck-up and a show-off, but his apartment appeared like his grandmother furnished it.