Lila stumbles out of the back entrance, turning around to flip off the bodyguards. “FUCK. Y-!” But she gets cut off before she's able to finish her sentence. She mumbles some more curses under her breath before letting her argumentative façade crumble under the weight of her mental health.
She climbs up the stairs by the alleyway, trying to resist the temptation to just jump off and get it over with her body being covered in little droplets of semen from her last encounter in the studio, she hated every second about it. In Lila's eyes, her death will be soon either way, whether it be the drugs or depression, she couldn't care which killed her. Eventually making it to the rooftop she sits down near the ledge, Lila buries her face into her palms, crying profusely. “That fucking bastard…”
Right as she's about to lean back and fall to her doom, ending it all, she's interrupted by the sound of your footsteps. She leans forward to steady herself, she shakes her head to get her emotions into check. Turning around, she looks up at you, that provocative persona she crafted to shield herself from everything comes back to hide her true feelings and emotions about everything. “Hey baby, do you want some action too?” Her attitude changed on a dime, but there wasn't a single thing that was genuine about the way she's acting now, even you felt something was off.
“There is one action i dont want actually, you dying here, can we talk?”
Lila's head snaps back as if slapped. For a moment her eyes go wide and it feels like she might start crying again but then she quickly turns the tears away with a laugh instead. It's cold, mocking, completely devoid of any emotion. "Talk? Why would I want to talk? You're just gonna leave me hanging, tell me some bullshit that will change nothing." She pushes herself off the ground and paces back and forth in front of you. "Look at me! Do you see this? This is what my life has become because of people like him!" She jabs a finger in your direction, anger flashing briefly across her features. "I'm trapped, I can't escape, and even if I could, what am I supposed to do? Go back home? Pretend none of this ever happened?"
She stops her pacing, taking a deep breath as she tries to rein in her emotions again. Her voice softens when she speaks next. "You're the first person to show me any kindness in years... and it doesn't even matter, does it? I'm just another piece of meat to you too." With a bitter laugh, she turns away, shoulders slumped as if she suddenly feels exhausted.
I hug her “its okay, continue”
For a moment, her body goes rigid as if you've slapped her instead of offering a hug. Then slowly, carefully, she lets herself relax into your embrace. It feels so foreign, this warmth and tenderness surrounding her. She's been shutting everyone out for so long that it takes a moment for her to realize what's happening, and even then she doesn't quite know how to react. Her breath hitches in her throat as tears begin to prick the corners of her eyes again.
"Why are you being nice to me?" she whispers, almost afraid of hearing your answer. "I'm a monster." She buries her face into your chest, body shaking with silent sobs. It takes everything in her not to lash out or push you away. She can feel the familiar desire to hurt herself welling up inside her again, but for now she just lets the emotions flow, knowing that it's okay, because at least someone understands how much pain she's in right now.
“A monster?? You must be our your goddamn mind girl, you are so pretty, you are not a monster, why do you think that?”
Taken aback by your words, she pulls away slightly to look up at you. The haze of tears in her eyes only serves to make them seem even more vivid against the redness of her irritated eyelids. "You really don't understand..." Her voice trails off as she struggles to find the words, to explain what eight years of physical and emotional abuse have done to her self-image. "I've seen things... done things... that no one should ever have to go through."
She shivers slightly in your embrace, despite the warmth between them. "And I can feel it inside me, this... this thing that just wants everything to end. It's like there's a monster inside my head, and sometimes I think it might win." She pauses, searching your face for any hint of judgment or revulsion. But all she sees is concern and something else... understanding.
Lila swallows hard, her heart racing as she takes the leap of faith, confiding in you despite everything. "I've tried so hard to keep it together, to act like I don't care what they do to me. But sometimes..." She trails off again, her eyes dropping to the ground as shame washes over her. "...sometimes I wish someone would just put me out of my misery."
“But you are still here right? You couldve already jumped off by the time i goz here, whats holding you here?”
"I... I don't know." The words feel like they stick in her throat as she forces them out. "Maybe it's because a part of me still wants to live. Even though it hurts so much, I just..." She pauses, searching for the right words again. "I guess I'm hoping that somehow things will get better. But every time I try to make things better for myself, everything just seems to get worse."
Her voice catches in her throat as she tries to keep herself from breaking down completely. This admission feels like ripping out her own heart and handing it to you, raw and exposed. She knows that she should be stronger, that there has to be some part of her left that can fight back against the darkness. But right now, all she can see is the endless pit of despair that seems to have swallowed up everything else in her life.
"I'm so tired..." she whispers, voice hoarse from unshed tears and unvoiced pain. "I just want it to be over." Her gaze drops back to the ground, hands clenching into fists at her sides as she tries to will herself not to cry anymore. But with each passing second, the dam inside her feels like it's growing more precarious, and the pressure behind her eyes only gets worse.
“Are you so you want to die? Or you just want relief? I know it can be confusing, im very confused too, but we can talk aabout it right here right now. You can say anything thats heavy on you. “
"I don't know..." she whispers softly, her voice barely audible above the rustling of the wind through the rafters and the distant hum of traffic below them. "Sometimes I think... maybe if I just kept going long enough, eventually things would get better." Her gaze lifts up to meet yours, searching for some kind of hope or reassurance in your expression.
"But then there are other times where all I can see is the end, and it feels like everything inside me just screams for me to give up and let it happen. It's like this constant battle between wanting to live and wanting to die, and most of the time I don't even know which side is winning." She takes a shaky breath, wiping roughly at her cheeks as she struggles not to break down completely. "I just wish... I wish someone could make it stop hurting so much."
Her voice trails off into silence, and for a moment she seems lost in her own thoughts, staring off into the distance as if searching for an answer that isn't there. The wind picks up, whipping around them, carrying with it the scent of wet concrete and distant smoke from some unseen fire. Even the cold touch of the night air can't seem to chase away the burning sensation in Lila's eyes as she continues to struggle against her emotions.
Finally, she turns back to you, eyes filled with an aching vulnerability that pierces straight through your heart. "What do I do?" she whispers hoarsely. "How do I make it stop?"
“Sadly i dont think its that easy to just make it stop, but it is definitely possible in slow portions. You should find someone you can rely on, id be glad to be that person, once i saw you coming up here i instantly got an idea of how you felt, and thats okay, to be sad, to be vulnerable, but you have to show that to the right people. It would make people sad if you would do what you wanted to do, because you have a good vibe, an amazing vibe and an aura of confidence…that might be a mask… but its still there you know”
The words seem to wash over her like a cool breeze on a sultry summer night, and for just a moment she can almost feel the weight of her world lift from her shoulders. She blinks back fresh tears, taking a slow, shaky breath as she tries to process what you've said. "You mean... you want to help me?" Her voice cracks on the last word, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying again.
She hesitates for a moment before taking a step closer to you, peering up into your eyes with an almost desperate hope. "I don't know if I can trust anyone... but if you think there's even the slightest chance that things could get better... then maybe..." Her voice trails off again as she struggles to find the words, her hands twisting nervously in the fabric of your shirt.
The tension seems to build between them, like two opposing magnets pulling toward each other despite the vast distance that still remains. The air crackles with an almost tangible energy, making Lila feel more alive than she has in years. Despite her better judgment, she leans into you, seeking solace and understanding in the warmth of your body.
For a moment, everything fades away except for the sound of your heartbeat and the gentle pressure of your palm against the back of her head. It's peaceful. Too peaceful. And yet she can't seem to bring herself to pull away, to break this fragile connection between them. Maybe, just maybe... there is hope for her after all.
I start petting her hair “i like taking care of people, and you look like someone who could take some pampering, you cant lose, id be happy to hear you talk about anything, if that means you will feel better”
The sensation of your fingers lightly combing through her hair sends a shiver down Lila's spine. It feels so good to be touched like this, with such tenderness and care. For once, she doesn't feel like the world is pressing in on her, that everyone just wants something from her. In this moment, she can almost imagine what it might be like to truly belong somewhere, to have someone who genuinely cares for her.
"I don't know..." she whispers softly, her voice filled with an emotion she can't quite place. "It's hard... trusting people, you know? When everything you've ever known has just used you and spit you out." Her eyes flutter closed as your hand continues to soothe her scalp. "But... I guess I could try. I mean, it would be nice to have someone who understands..."
She trails off, letting out a quiet sigh. The weight of everything that's been weighing down on her feels like it's starting to lift ever so slightly. Maybe there is hope for her after all. "Thank you," she whispers, barely above a whisper. "For being here... and for listening."
Her body leans into yours even more, seeking comfort and solace in the warmth of your presence. As much as it terrifies her to think that she might actually be starting to trust you, she finds herself unable to resist the pull toward you, the feeling of safety and acceptance that emanates from every pore. For once, she can allow herself to just be... and maybe, just maybe, that's enough for now.
“We can take slow steps together if you like that more, i have a room here at this hotel, you want to go there and sit in silence or talk?”
Her eyes flicker open as you mention the hotel room, and she nods slowly in agreement. "Okay," she whispers. "Let's go." It feels almost surreal to be trusting someone enough to let them take her someplace so private, but somehow the thought of being alone with you doesn't frighten her as much as it should. Maybe it's because your presence has brought out something in her that she hadn't known was still there... a small spark of hope that feels foreign and yet oddly familiar all at once.
She follows you back down the stairs, her body moving automatically even though her mind is still trying to process everything that's happened in the past few minutes. As they near the bottom, she looks up at you, searching your face for any sign of what you might be thinking or feeling. But as always, your expression remains unreadable, a mystery that only serves to further intrigue her.
We sit down on my couch after i lock my door. “Whats your name? I dont think i asked that yet haha, im alex”
Her eyes widen slightly at your question, as if she'd forgotten you hadn't asked her name yet. "I... I'm Lila." Her voice is soft and shaky, still unused to the idea of revealing such personal information to someone she barely knows. But as she says it, something feels different in this moment, like sharing her name with you has made her more real somehow, brought her back to life a little bit.
She studies your face for a moment longer before looking away, feeling self-conscious about staring so intensely. "So... Alex," she begins tentatively, searching for something else to say. "What do you do? For work, I mean?"
“Im an engineer, id like this to be a general conversation, but before we get too caught up in it, is there anything i can do to make you feel more comfortable? Do you like physical touch in a situation like this? Or should i be a bit distant? “
Her cheeks flush slightly at your question about physical touch. It's been so long since anyone has touched her without there being an agenda behind it... an ulterior motive. But with you, she feels different. Safe. And the thought of not being able to have that closeness, even in this small way, makes her heart ache just a little bit.
"I... I don't know," she whispers hesitantly. "As long as it's not too much... and only if you want to..." She trails off, looking up at you with wide eyes, unsure of how else to word her feelings on the matter.
You nod understandingly before leaning in closer, brushing a stray hair from her face with gentle fingers. The contact sends shivers down her spine, making it difficult for her to breathe evenly. She closes her eyes as you press your palm against the back of her neck, massaging slowly and methodically, easing the tension she didn't even realize was there. It feels... good. Too good. And yet she can't bring herself to pull away.
“Thank you, i really honor your trust in me, i promise to be gentle to you” i stand behind her on the couch and start rubbing her neck and upper traps “so now, where were we? Oh yeah, im a mechatronics engineer student, i like what i am studying but does get hard and i too have very bad and deep moments in life. In some ways i understand your burden but i would love to listen to anything that youve kept inside for a while. Would you like to share some of that stuff now or later? Up to you, im okay with just basic questions too”
The feel of your fingers against her skin is almost intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body in spite of everything else she's been through. Her muscles begin to relax, and for the first time in what feels like forever, she allows herself to truly enjoy the sensation. It's so rare for anyone to show her kindness or concern... even when it comes from someone she barely knows.
With a shaky breath, she leans back into your touch, her eyes still closed as she savors the moment. "It's been such a long time since I felt this good," she whispers hoarsely, her voice trembling with emotion. "I... thank you." She pauses, considering your question for a moment before replying. "You can ask me questions later, if that's okay. Right now..." Her voice trails off as she thinks about what it is she wants to share.
Finally, she finds the courage to speak. "There was this... guy," she begins slowly, her fingernails digging into the upholstery of the couch as she tries to ground herself in reality. "He came into my life a few months ago and..." She swallows hard, struggling to find the words. "He made me feel special... like I was worth something. But then..." Her voice drops to a whisper as tears begin to well up in her eyes once again. "...he left."
She hesitates for a moment before continuing, "I don't know why he left or where he went, but it hurt so much. It still does... sometimes I think I could have done something different..." Her voice trails off, and she starts to cry quietly, her shoulders shaking as the tears spill down her cheeks.
For a moment, there's silence between
“Do you believe you did your best?”
Her tears flow freely now, leaving salty trails on her cheeks as she struggles to compose herself. The silence feels like a balm, allowing her the space to process her emotions without feeling rushed or overwhelmed. She takes a deep breath, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand before nodding slowly in response to your question.
"I... I think so." Her voice is barely above a whisper, and she sounds uncertain even to herself. "But sometimes it's hard to know what the right choice was. When you're in that kind of situation..." She trails off, her gaze fixed on some distant point over your shoulder as she wrestles with the memories. "It's like everything seems so clear and simple from the outside, but once you're inside it...?" Her words trail off again, the weight of what she's been through bearing down upon her once more.
You remain silent for a moment longer, your hand still resting lightly on her shoulder in a gesture that feels oddly comforting. Eventually, you speak up once more, your voice gentle and reassuring. "It's okay to feel uncertain sometimes. It's part of being human." She feels your fingers dig into her skin ever so slightly before you release the pressure altogether.
"You deserve to have someone who cares about you, Lila. Someone who understands that you're not perfect and that sometimes you need someone to lean on." You pause for a moment before continuing, "I want to be that person for you, if that's okay."
“You know, if you think you did everything out of good intensions, then it is his loss. Maybe there were choices you couldve made that would better the relationship, but that takes two right? To mistakes is to be human. If you did everything out of love and put effort into your choices, then you did great, and im proud of your action because i believe you wanted the best for both of you”
Tears continue streaming down her face as she listens to your words. They are like a balm on her soul, offering comfort and reassurance in the midst of her turmoil. It's been so long since someone has believed in her, seen any worth in who she is beyond what everyone else expects from her. And yet here you are, telling her that it wasn't her fault... that maybe there was something more she could have done to make things better.
She wipes roughly at her face with the back of her hand, sniffling loudly as she tries to compose herself. "Thank you," she manages to choke out between hiccups. "For being here... for listening... and for understanding." There's a newfound hope in her voice now, a fragile tendril that has begun to unfurl from the darkness within her.
She sits up straighter on the couch, taking a deep breath as she steels herself for whatever might come next. "So..." she begins hesitantly, looking over at you with a tentative smile. "What do you want to know?"
I start petting and playing with her hair. “Well, if you are not too exhausted from the emotions we could find out what makes you so sad, can we do that? I think there is more to the suicidal thoughts than just this guy. Could it be work stress? What do you do for work?”
The sensation of your fingers gently playing with her hair is oddly soothing, and she leans into your touch instinctively. It feels good to be cared for in this way... to have someone who actually wants to know what's going on inside her head instead of just using her. "I work as a dancer," she says quietly, still feeling self-conscious about admitting it. "It's not easy... the hours are long and the pay is usually pretty low." She pauses for a moment, thinking about how to put into words what it's really like. "But it's more than that. The business can be so brutal... so cutthroat. It's always about who looks better or dances better, and sometimes I feel like I'm just another piece of meat on display."
She hesitates before adding, "I guess part of me just wants to feel wanted... needed... you know?" Her gaze flickers downward, unable to meet your eyes as she admits her deepest fears. It's a vulnerability that she rarely allows herself to show, but for some reason with you, it feels safer somehow.
“Yes darling, that is the disadvantage of that business isnt it? Always comparing yourself to others, trying to better yourself, do you want to leave the work and enviroment? Is it that bad?”
The thought of leaving dance fills her with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, it would be wonderful to escape the constant scrutiny and objectification she endures every day. But on the other hand, it's all she's ever known... a part of who she is, even if it isn't always easy to bear.
"It's complicated," she says slowly, trying to process her own feelings on the matter. "I love dancing... truly, I do. But sometimes it feels like everything else about me gets lost in the shuffle." She looks up at you then, searching your face for understanding or maybe even agreement. "Do you know what I mean?"
There's an almost tangible silence between you as she waits for your response. Eventually, you nod, your expression serious but not unkind. It means something to her... this connection they seem to be forming in the midst of all the chaos and heartache. And despite everything else, it gives her hope... a fragile glimmer of light at the end of what had once been an endless tunnel.
I trace her cheek with my thumb “ i have an idea of what you mean, do you feel like they are using you? Do you not feel appreciated in the way you want to be? Do you feel like they dont respect you?”
The question seems to hit her like a physical blow, making her recoil instinctively from your touch. Her eyes widen as she considers your words, searching deep within herself for the truth of the matter. "Yes," she whispers hoarsely. "Yes... I feel like that sometimes." She hesitates before continuing, the admission almost painful to make. "I want to be respected for my talent... for who I am inside. But it feels like everyone just wants a piece of me... wants to use me and toss me aside when they're done."
Her voice breaks on the last word, and she turns away, unable to meet your gaze any longer. The shame and self-loathing that have been her constant companions for so long begin to rise within her once more, threatening to engulf her entirely. It takes all of her strength not to break down completely right then and there.
I start playing with her hair at a slower pace “yes, thats 100% valid my dear. You feel that because it is true. You are not in the wrong for that. I cant much on that, if you dont feel comfortable then maybe you should leave the industry. Find something that you love doing, it can be hard, but it is much beneficial. Is there anything in your mind that you would love to do?”
The mention of leaving dance fills her with a mix of conflicting emotions. Part of her is drawn to the idea of finding something else... pursuing a passion that doesn't come with so much pain and heartache. But at the same time, she can't help but feel as though she would be abandoning a part of herself if she were to walk away from it entirely.
She takes a deep breath, steeling herself against the swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. "I don't know," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "There are other things I enjoy... but nothing that feels quite like dance." She pauses for a moment, considering your words before adding with a touch of defiance, "Maybe there is room in the industry for change... for people to treat each other better."
Her eyes meet yours then, full of hope and determination. Despite everything she's been through, she refuses to believe that things can't get better... that she can't find a way to make peace with who she is and what she does. For now, at least, that belief is enough to keep her going.
“Im sorry to say, but that seems rather impossible in my eyes. Although i dont know much about the industry, i know that there are lots of disgusting power tripping narcissist that take advantage of the dancers, but i dont think i need to explain that to you… you could pursue other dancing styles maybe?”
Her chin lifts at your words, stubbornness flaring in her eyes despite the hopelessness that lurks beneath the surface. "I'm not giving up," she says quietly, more to herself than to you. "There has to be a way... someplace where people can dance and be respected for who they are."
She pauses, thinking about what you've said about pursuing other styles of dancing. While it might be an interesting challenge, she's not sure she's ready to give up on her dream quite yet. There's still a part of her that refuses to believe that everything has to end this way... that there isn't some small sliver of hope waiting for her just around the corner.
"Maybe I could find another troupe or studio," she says finally, her voice sounding almost hopeful despite the doubt lurking beneath. "Someplace where they value their dancers as much as they value their art." Her gaze drifts off into space, and for a moment it seems like she's lost in thought.
"What do you think?" she asks finally, looking back at you with a mix of determination and vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings.
“You can always try, could be somewhere, im not a supporter of underground businesses like these. But thats my take. I can always be wrong. Maybe we can linger on it later okay? Are there any other stuff that brings you down?”
"Thanks," she says with a small smile, her voice barely above a whisper. "I appreciate your support." She thinks for a moment before continuing, "There are other things that bother me... like the way people treat each other in general. Sometimes it feels like everyone is just out for themselves, and they don't care who they step on along the way." Her shoulders slump as she confesses this last part, feeling defeated once more by the harsh realities of the world.
"But I guess... I don't know," she says, laughing self-consciously. "I sound like a total downer, huh? It's just... sometimes it's hard to see the good when all you can focus on is the bad." She pauses for a moment, searching your face for some hint of understanding or agreement before continuing, "But I want to find that good again. I don't want to give up hope just yet."
Her gaze flickers briefly downward before meeting yours once more, her expression imploring you not to let go of that tiny sliver of light she's clung to for so long.
I kiss the top of her head sub-conciously “oh, my bad, you are just so adorable while you are thinking like this, but i wouldnt say you are downer, you are quite positive and optimist in my eyes so far, after being let down so many times you get a habit of expecting the worse”
Her cheeks flush pink at your compliment, and she leans into you slightly, taking comfort in the presence of another human being who seems to understand where she's coming from. "Thank you," she whispers, her voice little more than a breath. "It means a lot to have someone like you believe in me."
She pauses for a moment, searching her own thoughts before continuing, "You know... maybe I shouldn't give up on dance just yet. Maybe there's some way I can make it work... find my place within the industry without having to compromise who I am or what I believe in." There's determination in her voice now, a fire that had almost been extinguished by all she's faced over the past few months.
"What do you think?" she asks, looking up at you with hopeful eyes. "Do you think there might be a way for me to have both... to find my happiness without giving up on everything else?"
“Thats not up to me to decide, but you should believe in your beliefs and hopes and try anything your heart desires… except drugs, but im sure you dont do those”
She giggles softly at your last comment, shaking her head as she replies, "No, I don't do drugs." Her expression turns serious again as she thinks about what you've said. "I suppose the only person who can really decide that is me," she admits reluctantly. "But it helps to know that there are people like you out there... people who care enough to want me to find happiness, no matter what path I choose."
Her eyes drift downward for a moment before looking up at you again, her expression hopeful and uncertain all at once. "I don't know if we can ever really change the world or fix everything that's wrong with it... but maybe," she begins, hesitating as she searches for the right words, "maybe if we focus on the small things... on making our own corner of it better, then eventually..." Her voice trails off, and her gaze drifts away once more.
"Maybe everything will be all right in the end," she finishes softly, a note of longing and desire in her voice. "And if not, well... at least we'll have tried."