MANILA

College isn’t easy.

That I can tell you.

Three weeks into college and I was already fed up. The courses weren’t easy, lots and lots of assignments every day with a submission period of fewer than twenty-four hours.

This was only the first year.

As I sat in class, my hand suspended my head that currently felt heavy from days of sleepless nights trying to meet the submission deadline for assignments. I listened to the voice of the lecturer as he spoke on, nothing stuck.

Lucky for me, it was Friday. So I would some time to rest as I had only one class tomorrow and it doesn’t start until 1:00 pm.

I groaned, a bit too loud as suddenly, all eyes were on me, including the lecturer as he gave me a death glare. I smile awkwardly, as I sink in, in my sit. Wanting nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow me.

“Is something the matter miss?” the lecturer asks as he drops the little notebook which he used to lecture on the desk.

“Uh… yes sir. Can I be excused?” I ask

He rolls his eyes, looking fed up and he signalled with his hand for me to leave.

I quickly put my notebook on my back and rush out of the class. I was seated by the aisle in the back of the class, making it easy to rush out of class without drawing in any attention on me.

I rushed to the bathroom, throwing my bag on the floor, as I looked at myself in the mirror. I sighed from how pale and tired I looked thanks to the eyebags under my eyes, then I proceed to flash some water on my face, then gently pinch and slap on my cheeks to bring back some colour to my face.

Giggles could be heard out of the door indicating that a group of girls were making their way in. I panicked as I quickly grabbed my bag and rushed into a stall, standing on the toilet seat.

“I heard Club Lux is fire” I hear the voice say

“Right? I haven’t been there but my roommate has been. I can’t wait” the second voice says as she squeals.

“I heard they’re seeking to hire bartenders,” the first voice says

“Where did you hear that?” another voice asks

“From some group of girls in accounting class,” the first voice says

“Oh great, I know Dayana will be interested. She’s been looking for a job” the third voice says

“Yeah no. Working in a club? With all the perverts that go in there every day? No thanks,” the second voice says, and I can sense the disgust in her voice as she spoke.

“Yeah, whatever Maya,” the third girl says, probably replying to the second girl, whose name I’ve come to learn was Maya. It doesn’t matter what their names were, I was most probably never going to meet them.

The bathroom is silent, making me understand that the bathroom was empty and I could safely leave the stall. Looking at myself in the mirror one last time, I straighten my dress and leave the bathroom.

I look at my wristwatch, five more minutes until the class for Entrepreneurship was over and the thought of sitting through any class for the rest of the day seemed gruesome.

Instead, I went home, wanting nothing but to sleep off this tiredness.

My roommate was sprawled out on the couch, popcorn in a bowl and her phone in hand as she scrolled through what I supposed was Instagram.

“You look like shit,” Dayana says sitting up.

I throw my backpack on the floor, as I sit on the couch next to her.

“Thanks. I feel like shit too” she says letting out a sigh.

“You know it’s okay if you miss school for a day right?” she asks

I give her a knowing look as she rolled her eyes.

Dayana is a longtime friend from foster care and the closest thing I have to a sister. She left foster care at the age of seventeen after she failed her last year of high school.

The school has never been her thing. Dayana wasn’t book smart, but she sure as hell was street smart because, in three years, she moved to a new city, worked her ass off and now she was doing financially fine.

Well, not extremely rich but she has a roof over her head, has a job, can afford at least three square meals a day.

Things we longed for back in foster care. We still kept in contact all these years because when I reached out to her about my plans, she offered to help. Took me in free of charge, has been feeding me without any complaints and went as far as helping me seek admission into college.

Now, I feel like a burden because I am entirely depending on her for everything.

The reason why when I was thinking of going applying for the job those girls were talking about.

“Daya” I called out but get no response but I proceed with my question anyways.

“Have you heard of Club Lux?” I called out, Daya rushing out of the room.

“Yes, why?” she asks, sitting Indian style on the couch.

“What did you hear about it?” I ask, ignoring her question

“You mean asides the fact that it is only THE most popular club in Missouri,” she says, emphasis on ‘THE’

I nod.

“Why are you asking?” she inquires again

“No reason. I was hiding in the bathroom stall when I-“she cuts me off, putting her pointer on my lips leaving me confused

“Why were you hiding in a bathroom stall?” she ask, and I rolled my eyes confusion written all over her face.

“Can I finish?” I ask slightly aggravated.

“Sorry go on” she apologizes

“As I said, I was in the bathroom stall when some girls worked in. they were talking about a certain Club Lux, how popular it was and that they were currently seeking bartenders,” I say looking at Daya whose gaze was already on me but wearing an unreadable expression on her face.

“And right now you’re thinking you could apply” she states and I nod.

“Being a bartender is not easy. And I’m not talking about workload, no. I’m talking about dealing with the stares and slangs of perverts, can you deal with that?” she asks.

I was quite aware of all that. On my way back from class, nothing else has been on my mind asides from the opening at Club Lux. I knew all the packages that came with working in a club, but I had no choice. For months I have been unable to get a job, and now that I have found an opening, I will not let my fear stop me.