New Beginnings

Emily’s POV

I’ve been in this new city for a few weeks now, and I must say, I love it here. Everything feels fresher, brighter, and somehow more promising than my old city. That change was exactly what I needed, a clean slate to rebuild my life, free from heartbreak and the weight of past mistakes.

But first things first, I needed a job. Without a steady income, nothing else would feel real. Maybe here, luck would finally be on my side.

I hurried to get dressed, eager to explore the city and its possibilities.

“Where are you off to?” Layla’s voice stopped me just as I reached the door.

I turned, smiling. “I’m going to explore the city and maybe look for a job,” I said, excitement evident in my tone.

“Alone?” Layla asked, her brows furrowed.

“Yes, alone. I don’t need you to babysit me anymore. I have to find a job,” I said, trying to reassure her.

“You know it’s okay. You don’t have to start working immediately. We just arrived,” she said gently.

“It’s been weeks. I can’t keep living off you and Danny. I need to find a job and maybe move out someday. You need your space too,” I said, trying to make her understand.

Layla grumbled, but eventually she gave in. “Fine, you win. But today, no job hunting. We’re going out, just the two of us, even if it’s the last time,” she declared.

“As you wish,” I said, smirking. Layla squealed, her excitement filling the apartment.

“I’ll get dressed. Just give me a few minutes,” she said, rushing away.

Soon, she returned, radiant and smiling. “I’m ready. Today will be amazing. I’ll make sure of that,” she said, grabbing her bag.

“And Danny? Isn’t he coming? I haven’t seen him today,” I asked.

“Danny started his job today,” Layla explained.

“That’s great. I’m happy for him,” I said.

“Yeah…” Her mood shifted, and I noticed her frown.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.

Layla hesitated. “I’ve asked him about the job, but he keeps telling me to trust him. He says the pay is good.”

“Then trust him. Danny loves you. Don’t overthink it. Focus on your job. When do you start?” I asked.

“In three days,” she said, smiling a little.

“Then focus on that and stop worrying about imagined problems,” I encouraged.

“You’re right. I’m overthinking. Let’s go,” she said, pulling me toward the door.

We explored the city, walking along streets filled with people, lights, and smells that made everything feel alive. Every corner revealed something new: a small café tucked between buildings, street musicians filling the air with melodies, and vendors selling foods I had never tried before. I loved it all.

By nightfall, we found ourselves at a bar with dim lighting and a lively crowd. The cocktails were unlike anything I’d ever tasted, each sip a little escape from the frustrations of life.

As we enjoyed our third drink, the bartender announced, “Last call.”

I frowned. “One more glass, please.”

“I can’t. Last call,” he said firmly.

“Why? Back home, bars never close this early,” I protested.

“Miss, nights here aren’t safe, especially for women,” he warned.

Grumbling, Layla urged me to leave. On the way back, I continued complaining about the bartender’s attitude, while Layla suggested he might have just been looking out for us.

The next morning, the cocktail from the previous night hit me harder than I expected. I pushed past the slight hangover and got ready to go job hunting. Navigating the city alone was harder than I imagined. Every street felt unfamiliar, and every office seemed to demand something I might not have.

Weeks turned into months. Six months later, I still hadn’t found a job. Frustration weighed heavily on me.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a job. Don’t stress,” Layla said while packing her lunch.

“It’s easy for you to say. You have a job,” I groaned.

“You’ll get one soon. I just know it,” she said, smiling.

“It’s been six months. We moved here six months ago. I should have found a job by now. I feel so unlucky, like Ethan’s curse followed me,” I vented, my voice heavy with disappointment.

“Stop, Emily. Your ex and your past have nothing to do with this. Keep trying. Something will come up,” Layla encouraged, kissing me goodbye.

Sighing, I resumed my search, but each day brought only more rejection. Frustration became a constant companion, and I found myself back at the bar one evening. I needed an escape.

“You’re back! I didn’t expect to see you again,” the bartender said.

“Give me your strongest whiskey,” I demanded.

“A bottle?” he asked, surprised.

“Did I stutter?” I snapped, patience gone.

“It’s Chris,” he said. I ignored it.

“I didn’t ask for your name. Just bring the bottle,” I said.

He complied, and I poured glass after glass, trying to numb the disappointment and loneliness.

“Rough day?” Chris asked.

“Rough months. But it’s none of your business,” I muttered.

Music from the corner caught my attention. Karaoke night. Something in me stirred, and before I knew it, I was on stage, singing to the crowd, letting the alcohol and frustration fuel me.

Applause and cheers followed as I finished. I returned to my seat, smiling despite everything.

“You sing well,” Chris commented.

“I’ve always loved singing. Tonight it was the alcohol,” I admitted.

“I always wanted to sing too, but I chose a stable path. Now I can’t find a job,” I confessed.

“You can work here,” Chris said, surprising me.

“Can you give me a job? You’re just a bartender,” I questioned.

“It’s cute you think that. I own this place,” he revealed, leaving me stunned.

“So, is it a yes? Are you taking the job?” he asked.

I hesitated. Singing had never been my plan. But I needed money desperately.

“Fine. I’ll take the job. Thank you, Chris,” I agreed.

“I’m not Chris to you anymore. I’m your boss now,” he said firmly, and I groaned.

At least it was a job. I downed the rest of my glass, thinking about the uncertain but promising chapter ahead. For the first time in months, I felt a spark of hope.