Chapter 2 Insufficient Funds

• Valerie groaned as she opened her eyes, her head pounding like a drum, her body sore like she had been knocked down by a speeding truck. She blinked against the sun light filtering through the massive windows of her living room and realised she was sprawled across the couch in last night’s clothes. The faint taste of last night’s cocktails lingered, and a sharp ache crept through her body. As she struggled to sit up, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She reached for it and picked it up, squinting at the screen, and her eyes widened as a notification flashed: “Balance: $0.00”.
• “What the heck!!” she screamed. “Are you kidding me?” she muttered, dropping her head back against the couch in exasperation.
• Another message followed immediately—a text from Ramon: “You’ve got 24 hours to pay up. No excuses.”
• Valerie’s heart sank, but irritation quickly replaced her dread. She pressed Ramon’s number and barely let it ring before he picked up.
• “Valerie,” Ramon said, his voice dripping with impatience. “Don’t even try saying you forgot. You told me you would send it back before the day runs out.”
• “Look, Ramon,” she snapped, pressing her hand to her throbbing temple. “I told you I’d get it soon. You’ll get your money. Just calm down.”
• “‘Calm down? You know I don’t like stories’” he scoffed. “You’ve got less than a day left. I don’t think you understand how this works.”
• She rolled her eyes, too exhausted to argue. “Whatever. You’ll get it,” she snapped, ending the call before he could say another word.
• She slumped back on the couch, closing her eyes for a moment, when suddenly the front door flew open, and her father, Richard Davis, stormed in. She sat up, her head spinning, as he strode into the room with an expression she hadn’t seen in years—pure, unfiltered anger.
• “Dad,” she mumbled, attempting a weak smile. “I—”
• “Save it,” he interrupted, his voice cold. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Valerie?”
• She flinched at his tone, unused to this level of intensity from her usually mild-mannered father. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, attempting to regain her usual bravado.
• “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he shot back, his gaze narrowing. “The overspending, the loans from dubious people, the complete disregard for me. I have given you everything, Valerie. I gave you everything so you’d have a comfortable life. I even warned you to change, and yet here we are.”
• Valerie tried to shake off her hangover-induced grogginess, but his words struck a nerve. “Dad, come on. It’s not that serious. I mean, it’s just money—”
• “Just money?” he interrupted, his face turning red. “Valerie, this is the last straw. The house you’re living in? That’s my settlement to you. You can consider this place your one and only gift from me. I’ll pay off this loan you took from that scoundrel, but that’s it. After that, you’re on your own.”
• Her eyes widened, the reality sinking in. “Wait... How did you know about the loan from Ramon?”
• “You think I don’t know your every move? Take whatever I’m going to do today as a lesson because God knows I’ve tried to be a good dad. I can’t continue to shield you from reality” Richard fired.
• “You’re saying you’re just going to cut me off?” Valerie asked, trying to get up but her legs failed her.
• Richard nodded, his expression unwavering. “Exactly. Until you learn to make a living for yourself, I don’t want to hear from you. Maybe a taste of reality will be good for you.”
• Valerie opened her mouth to protest, but he turned away, heading towards the door. “Good luck, Valerie. You’ll need it.” he walked out, slamming the door behind him.
• …
• Valerie’s fingers trembled as she dialled Layla’s number, her the numbers on her screen had become blurry all of a sudden. She could hear her heart pounding with dread and could barely process what had just happened—her father cutting her off, the humiliation, the anger... and now, her bank balance. How had she ended up completely broke? What in the hell had happened the previous night? How bad can her life get and how would she recover from this? She asked herself in her mind.
• The phone rang twice before Layla’s cheerful, if slightly groggy, voice answered, “Val, what’s up? Last night was insane!”
• Valerie clenched her jaw, trying to keep her voice steady. “Layla...” she started, trying all she could to speak calmly, “what exactly happened last night? What did we even do?”
• Layla laughed, oblivious to Valerie’s distress. “Are you serious? We popped bottles, danced on the tables... everyone was looking at us. Don’t tell me you don’t remember any of it?”
• “No, I... I remember parts of it, I think.” She could almost hear the eye-roll in her friend’s voice as she hesitated. “Layla, you have no idea. My dad was just here, and he told me he’s cutting me off. My account is literally empty. Completely.”
• The line went silent for a moment, then Layla gasped. “Wait, what? You’re serious?”
• Valerie’s voice cracked, her carefully built-up defences beginning to crumble. “Yes, Layla. He’s done. He’s taken everything from me. And I can’t even remember what we spent all that money on last night! What did we do?”
• Layla’s voice softened, her tone more sober. “Val, don’t worry. I’m on my way over, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
• She hung up, and Valerie let her phone drop onto the couch, her breath hitching as she held back tears. She couldn’t just sit there. She had to do something, anything, to feel like she had control again. With shaky legs, she rose and made her way upstairs, clinging to the railing as though the weight of her situation was pressing down on her. They were indeed pressing down on her, from having millions to being broke in one night.
• In her room, she stumbled into the bathroom, hands clumsily peeling off last night’s clothes, now wrinkled and smelling faintly of smoke and spilled champagne. She stepped into the shower, twisted the handle, and let the cold water pour over her, shocking her awake. She shivered, but it felt like a small punishment—something she deserved.
• The icy water pelted her skin, numbing her. She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to remember details of the night before, but everything came back in hazy, flashing images: Layla raising a bottle in a cheer, the neon lights swirling, the beat of the music pulsing in her bones, and the steady stream of drinks that just kept coming.
• “What was I thinking?” she muttered, her voice cracking under the weight of her frustration. “Valerie you are done for! what are you going to do now?”
• Her words hung in the air, blending with the hum of the water. She leaned against the cold tiles, letting out a shaky breath. She was so used to having everything handed to her, always able to call her father or swipe his card and make every problem vanish. But now? She had never felt this kind of desperation before.
• For the first time in her life, she felt truly... lost.
• After a few minutes, she turned off the water, wrapping herself in a towel. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror—her usually radiant face was pale, eyes tired and hollow. She barely recognised herself.
• “I’m... I’m finished,” she whispered to her reflection, her words trembling. "What am I going to do?"
• Just as Valerie thought things couldn’t possibly get worse, her phone chimed with a new notification. She glanced down, and her heart sank—it was an invoice from one of her favourite designers. The total: forty-five thousand dollars. The number glared back at her, and she nearly dropped her phone into the sink. Before she could process the shock, her phone lit up with a call from the designer herself.
• Valerie reluctantly swiped to answer.
• “Hey, sugar!” came Bernice’s bubbly voice, as if they were the best of friends. “Just sent you the invoice. The dresses should be arriving any moment now—if they’re not at your doorstep already! Oh, and I threw in a complimentary bottle of champagne!”
• “Bernice…” was all Valerie could manage, her voice weak with disbelief.
• “Oh, and wait until you see these dresses!” Bernice gushed. “They’re the best of my latest collection. You’re going to look absolutely stunning! But—something strange happened.”
• “What... happened?” Valerie asked, dreading the answer.
• “Well, I tried charging the card you have on file with us, and it came back... insufficient funds.” Bernice chuckled, as if it were some funny joke. “I was shocked! I mean, ‘The Valerie Davis’ and ‘insufficient funds’ don’t exactly go together, right?”
• Valerie forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow. “Yeah... about that,” she stammered. “Something came up recently, and, um... I don’t even remember placing these orders, actually. But I’ll send the money soon. I just—um—I need to get back to what I was doing. Thanks, Bernice.”
• Without waiting for a response, she ended the call and let her phone drop onto the counter, gripping the edge of the sink as she stared into the mirror, her reflection wide-eyed and pale. She felt the weight of her world crashing down around her, her extravagant lifestyle now a burden instead of a pleasure. Questions like How was she going to keep up appearances now? How is she going to pay her domestic staff and other crazy questions flew in and out of her head.