He Called Me Fifty Dollars

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The day the poor scholarship student ran for Student Body President, my childhood friend made sure everyone voted for me instead. Even though I wasn't running.

He didnt do it for me. He did it because he got a sick thrill out of crushing the spirit of the pretty girl on financial aid, calling it a "lesson in reality."

Later, he would hospitalize the guys who bullied that same scholarship student.

But then, the boy who had been my shadow since birththe one who supposedly cared for meleaned back in his chair, swirling his drink, and announced to the entire room, "Selene isnt expensive. Fifty for a quickie, five hundred for the night."

I froze. Then, quietly, I transferred all my classes to the morning block to avoid him.

On the rainy night my mothers condition went critical, I swallowed my pride and asked him for money. He waited until his cigarette burned down to the filter before flicking the ash near my hand.

"Selene," he said, his voice void of warmth. "I dont owe you a damn thing."

After he walked away, the top student in our year stepped out of the shadows and held an umbrella over my head.

"Would you be willing to come to London with me?"

I nodded.

On the first day of the semester, Piper stood at the podium, her cheeks flushed with hope as she delivered her speech for president. But when the votes were projected on the screen, her face went ghost white.

There were thirty people in the seminar. Selene received twenty-nine votes.

Beside me, Roman Carter watched Pipers devastation with the focus of a predator. He started a slow, mocking clap. "Surprise, Selene," he drawled, his voice dripping with faux affection.

Piper looked like she was going to be sick. Her eyes filled with tears, shifting to glare at me with pure, unadulterated jealousy.

I sighed, a silent exhale that vanished in the room's tension.

The girl who won by a landslide was me. I hadnt even put my name on the ballot.

And the guy next to me? Technically, he was my childhood friend.

Realistically? I was the daughter of the help who used to live in his guest house.

That dynamic shattered the summer after middle school. My father was driving Mrs. CarterRomans pregnant motherand my own mother when the car crashed.

My mother was the sole survivor, but she never woke up. Shes been in a vegetative state ever since.

From that day on, the Carters threw me out.

My relationship with Roman curdled into something dark. Even though the police report cited brake failurean accidentRoman never looked at me the same way again.

The rumors at school were vicious. They said I was a jinx. A curse. The girl who killed Mrs. Carter and Romans unborn brother.

Roman loved watching me take the heat.

By some twisted fate, we ended up at the same university, in the same major.

On the first day, he had taken my bag with practiced intimacy, whispering in my ear, "Been a while. I missed you."

During introductions, he jerked his chin in my direction. "Selene."

Everyone turned. The sunlight hit my profile, and for a second, it looked like a scene from a romance novel.

Then Roman smiled. It was a cruel, jagged thing.

"Her dads dead. Her moms a vegetable."

The room erupted in gasps. People awkwardly looked away, shuffling their feet. The professor eventually forced Roman to sit down.

When it was my turn, I just gave my name.

Roman was bored out of his mind until Piper showed up.

Piper was the scholarship kid with a chip on her shoulder. She hated the Greek system, hated old money, and wasnt afraid to say it. But when she spoke, her eyes lingered on Roman a little too long.

Roman scoffed, winding a lock of my hair around his finger. "Don't get too close to people with brain damage, Selene."

I had a feeling he was the one who would get close.

And honestly? Good.

I was right. First, he humiliated Piper in the election. Then, in a bout of ironic courtship, he started working shifts with her at the diner to "experience the struggle."

When guys harassed her, he sent them to the ER.

I kept my head down. I studied. I worked three jobs. I did people's homework for cash.

I thought our lives were finally diverging into parallel lines.

Then I walked into the lecture hall and heard a recording blasting over the speakers.

"Selene, you look desperate for cash. How much are you selling it for?"

"Fifty for a quickie, five hundred for the night."

It was my voice.

People screamed. Some laughed.

Roman stood in the center of the room, looking like a king in his court.

"I told you," he announced, his tone light, conversational. "Shes cheap. Fifty or five hundred."

The room buzzed with noise. Disgusting, predatory looks crawled over my skin.

I froze.

The audio was doctored. In high school, I did peoples homework. The question had been about essay prices. I had answered honestly.

Now, it was being played to the entire student body as a solicitation for sex.

Piper threw herself into Romans arms, looking scandalized. "Why would you play that, Roman?"

He ruffled her hair. "She stole your spot in the competition. She needed to be taken down a peg."

I sat down in silence. I pulled out my phone, found the old transaction logslabeled distinctly as "Essay Editing" and "Math Tutoring"and uploaded the screenshots to the class group chat.

Then, I logged into the portal and transferred every single class I shared with them.

They could play at being adults. They could find their entertainment in destroying people.

I couldnt.

I had to pay back the Hale family a thousand dollars every month for my mothers medical bills. I didnt have the luxury of time for their games.

Seeing no reaction from me, Roman cornered me after my new class. He sat on the desk in front of me, swinging his legs.

"I was just helping you drum up business, Selene," he said, a lazy smile on his lips. "Don't I get a thank you?"

I looked at him.

Cruel. Arrogant. Broken.

The sunny, polite boy from the estate was dead. He died in that crash, too.

And the optimistic, confident Selene died with him.

I lowered my eyes. My voice was dry. "Thank you."

His face darkened. His jaw ticked. "Don't thank me."

Roman found out about the class transfer quickly.

He brought Piper into the coffee shop where I worked.

Piper "accidentally" tripped, sending a scalding latte all over my apron and arm.

The skin turned angry red instantly.

She frowned, stepping back. "Do you even know how to serve coffee? You splashed my dress! You couldn't afford to replace this if you worked here for a hundred years!"

I had crouched down to clean up the mess, but I paused.

I looked up at her. She was wearing the seasons latest designer gear. Romans money, obviously.

There was barely a drop on her hem.

I stood up. "Call the police, then. The security cameras captured everything." Including the way she had shoved her hand out to tip the cup.

She choked, grabbing Romans hand. "Baby, the dress you bought me is ruined."

Roman glanced at her, then patted her head dismissively. "Ill buy you another one."

Piper smirked. "Lets go."

She hummed a tune as she linked arms with him, leaving me with a puddle of coffee and a burning arm.

I stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed the mop.

Later, a delivery driver dropped off a tube of burn cream with a note: Switch your classes back.

I threw it in the trash.

Two weeks later, final group projects were assigned. Every time I made eye contact with a classmate, they looked away.

A girl I had tutored once whispered to me, "Someone told us not to team up with you. If we do, we're blacklisted."

The professor sighed. "Selene, per the syllabus, groups must be two or three students."

I stared at my laptop screen.

A text popped up from Roman.

Come back.

At that exact moment, a chair scraped against the floor next to me.

It was Atlas Hale.

The top student. The impossible standard.

"Want to be partners?" he asked.

I exhaled, a sound I hadn't realized I was holding in.

It seemed like every time I hit a wall, Atlas Hale was there to open a door.

The last time was the summer after high school. I was sitting in the parlor of the Hale estate, terrified, waiting to beg his grandfather for a loan.

Atlas had walked in first.

I had jumped to my feet.

He smiled, a gentle expression that reached his eyes. "Don't be nervous. I'm Atlas. Grandfather is... eccentric."

I knew who he was. Everyone did. National Go champion. Heir to the Hale empire.

"I'm Selene," I managed, clutching the hem of my cheap shirt.

He poured me tea. "You're early. Grandfather was up all night gaming, he won't be up for a while."

"I can wait," I whispered.

"Play a game with me?" he asked.

I blinked. "Go?"

He pulled out a board. "Five-in-a-row. I heard you were unbeatable in middle school."

We played all morning. His presence had a grounding effect, calming the storm in my chest.

It was the same now.

"Can we wait to submit the form?" I asked him quietly.

If we didn't submit it yet, Roman wouldn't know. If Roman knew, he would go nuclear.

Atlas nodded. "Whatever you need."

After a beat, he added, "If you need help with anything else, tell me."

On the deadline day for the project, I got fired from the coffee shop.

The manager was vague, mumbling something about "complaints from influential customers."

I stood outside the shop, the rain soaking through my thin jacket.

I didn't know where to go.

The rain was silent, but my mind was screaming.

I went to the hospital. My mother lay there, still and silent. She had aged so much.

The Carters always said Mrs. Carter was going out for a spa day. Why did she take my mother?

My phone buzzed. Roman.

Come to The Lounge. I'll give you a grand.

I typed back: Transfer it first.

The Lounge was an upscale bar near campus. The smell of expensive scotch and designer perfume couldn't mask the rot underneath.

Roman waved me over. "Here."

I sat next to him. The leather was still warm from someone else. I tried to stand, but his hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"Why didn't you come to me?"

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear.

"If you don't come back to my section, whos going to partner with you?"

"Is Professor Zhou going to let you fail?"

I said nothing.

He bit my earlobe hard. "Selene, why the hell won't you speak?"

"How can you be so calm?"

"How can you pretend nothing happened?"

"My dad is dead!"

"Your mother is a vegetable!"

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper.

Piper came back from the restroom and froze when she saw me in her seat. She stormed over, grabbed a drink, and threw it in my face.

"Get up! That's my spot."

I was almost grateful for the interruption.

"Okay."

I said one word, blood mixing with the alcohol on my lips.

As I stood up, someone tapped Roman on the shoulder.

A guy looked at me, confused.

"Dude, shes partnered with Atlas Hale."

There was no time to react.

Roman yanked me back down onto the sofa. His hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing.

"How did you get to Atlas?"

"Did you sleep with him? Was he good?"

"Fifty or five hundred, Selene?"

I clawed at his arm.

Black spots danced in my vision.

Blood from my bitten cheek leaked out, dripping onto his hand.

Roman released me as if burned.

He caught me as I slumped forward, his grip shifting from violence to a desperate embrace.

His voice sounded wrecked.

"Talk to me, Selene."

"Ignore me again, and I won't let go next time."

I couldn't speak.

I wanted to vomit.

But I didn't have the energy.

I smelled like vodka, rain, and blood.

I must have been repulsive.

Roman buried his face in my damp, cold neck.

"I only have you, Moon."

"Don't leave me."

I closed my eyes, resigning myself to the darkness.

The whole table was terrified. Especially the guy who dropped the news about Atlas. He looked ready to bolt.

Piper was the only one with nerves of steel.

"Roman," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "You still have me."

Roman didn't hear her. He only saw me.

The next day, he transferred me five thousand dollars. The incident at the bar was swept under the rug.

The only thing that changed was that he forced his way into my life again. He insisted I join him and Piper for the big semester project.

He paid for my time. I couldn't refuse the money.

Which meant I had to bring Atlas along.

We met at a different caf. The manager practically bowed when we walked in.

Roman saw Atlas and smirked. "How's the old man holding up?"

Atlas nodded calmly. "He's well. Your father brought your brother by to visit him recently."

Roman's face went rigid.

The "brother" was the illegitimate son his father brought home freshman yeara kid only a few months younger than Roman. Proof that Mr. and Mrs. Carters "perfect marriage" was a lie long before the accident.

Atlas knew exactly where to aim.

He glanced at me. "It's crowded here. Let's go to the back."

I nodded quickly.

Roman looked like he wanted to kill someone.

Once seated, Atlas pulled out some blueprints. "Can you model these for me? Five grand per model. Cash on delivery."

I looked at the papers. They were prototypes for Hale Industries. Confidential ones.

He was handing me money. It was charity, wrapped in work.

"Thank you," I said.

Moms condition had worsened. I needed every cent.

He smiled. "I'm not doing you a favor. You're the best modeler in the department."

I managed a weak smile.

Rumors started flying that Atlas and I were together. Some said the Hales gave me a huge sum of moneya dowry, they joked.

Atlas didn't care about the gossip.

Maybe because he was leaving.

He was going to London for a semester exchange in the fall.

Roman remained volatile.

He liked to summon me to the bar, just to have me sit there while he drank and stared at me.

One night, he was wasted.

He leaned heavily on my shoulder.

"Do you know why your dad died?"

I had heard this rhetorical question a thousand times.

But his next words stopped my heart.

"He was drunk. He deserved it."

"But my mom? Why did my mom have to die with him?"

I shoved him away. Hard.

I slapped him across the face. The sound cut through the music.

"Don't you dare lie about my father," I said, shaking. "He never drove drunk. Never."

Romans head snapped to the side. He laughed, a wet, sloppy sound. "He drank! Are you stupid? A driver with twenty years of experience just 'loses control'? The autopsy found alcohol! Your dad killed a car full of people!"

He was pointing a crooked finger at me. "The report proved it!"

Piper appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Romans arm, screaming at me. "Your dad is a murderer!"

The accusation rang in my ears.

Dizziness swamped me.

Years ago, the crash was ruled an accident. Brake failure.

I had never seen the autopsy report.

But Dad... he wouldn't.

By the next morning, the whole campus was buzzing with the "truth."

They looked at me with disgust. They looked at Roman with pity.

In high school, I was a jinx. Now, I was the daughter of a murderer.

I walked through the day like a ghost.

It rained all day.

When the hospital called, thunder was shaking the windows.

Acute intracranial pressure.

She needed immediate surgery. One hundred thousand dollars.

High risk. Low success rate.

Do you want to proceed?

Every word was a hammer blow to my chest.

"Miss Selene? Miss Selene?"

I looked down at my shoes. I couldn't cry. I was too empty. "Give me one day."

I found Roman at The Lounge.

When I walked in, his friends jeered.

"Hey look, it's Fifty."

"Fifty is too cheap. Let's say five hundred. I like to take it slow."

"If I were her, I'd have jumped off a bridge by now."

I didn't hear them.

I walked straight to Roman, bent my knees, and knelt on the sticky floor.

"Lend me a hundred grand. Please."

His hand paused halfway to his mouth. He looked down at me through the smoke. "Is your mom dying, too?"

I didn't answer.

Ash from his cigarette fell onto my arm. It burned a small, grey circle into my skin.

I didn't flinch.

Finally, the cigarette burned down to his fingers.

He stood up. "Selene. I don't owe you anything."

He walked away.

I collapsed on the floor.

When I left, the rain was still pouring.

I walked into the storm, letting it soak me to the bone.

Steps approached rapidly from behind.

An umbrella appeared over my head.

A warm jacket was draped over my shoulders.

"Selene," Atlas said. "Grandfather says he'll cover your mother's treatment."

"Don't be scared."

I looked up.

Finally, the tears came.

Atlas wiped them away with his thumb.

"The medical facilities in London are better. We can transfer her there."

He paused.

"Will you come to London with me?"

"UAL. The best design program in the world."

"Grandfather insists. He says he wants to hire you for Hale Corp immediately after graduation to exploit your talent."

I stared at him for a long time.

Then I nodded.

He pulled me into a hug. It was warm. Safe.

With Atlas's help, the application was instant.

We didn't tell anyone.

In the last month of freshman year, we flew to London.