Chapter 5 Finding A Job

• Mabel opened the black plastic bag and carefully counted the thirty in cash and fifty cents inside, three times over. What now?
• A nearby job advertisement caught her attention.
• “Driver, I want to get off. Please open the door.” Three years in prison had stripped away her pride. She spoke with a lack of confidence.
• The driver grumbled but opened the door. She thanked him and got off.
• She approached the large board displaying job listings and stared at it for a while. Her gaze landed on the words “janitor” and the benefits: “accommodation provided” and “one meal included.”
• She had no home, no records, no education, and she had been to prison... It was doubtful that even a cleaning job would take her. But gripping the thirty in cash and fifty cents tightly in her hand, she steeled herself and walked into the nightclub called Club Royale. The moment she entered, Mabel shivered from the cold blast of the air conditioning.
• “Name,” the person demanded impatiently.
• “Mabel Jennings,” came the rough, slow reply. The glamorous woman recording her information flinched, nearly dropping her pen. She asked with a hint of annoyance, “Why is your voice so hoarse?”
• After three years in the hellish prison, Mabel had grown used to speaking slowly and passively, even when someone directly criticized her in front of her face. She replied just as slowly, “From the smoke.”
• The glamorous woman was startled. Her curious gaze settled on Mabel's face. “A fire?”
• “Yes, a fire,” Mabel responded, lowering her eyes. It had been a fire started by someone on purpose.
• Seeing that Mabel didn't want to elaborate, the glamorous woman lost interest and stopped asking. She frowned slightly and clicked her tongue. “This won't do. Club Royale isn't just any place, and the guests here aren't ordinary.” Her gaze swept over Mabel again, full of disdain. It was clear she didn't think much of Mabel, who looked like she was dressed in a sack. The white dress she was wearing had yellowed from age.
• Club Royale is no place for ordinary people. Even a waitstaff has to be beautiful and have a hot body. I can't believe someone like her has the audacity to apply for a job here.
• The glamorous woman stood up and waved her hand, decisively rejecting her. “No, you won't do. Not even as a waitress.” She turned to leave.
• “I'm applying for the janitor position.”
• The rough voice echoed in the small office, stopping the woman in her tracks. She turned around, raised an eyebrow, and gave Mabel another skeptical look. “Never seen a twenty-something willing to suffer and take on a janitor job.”
• The janitors at Club Royale were all well over forty. This girl has a scar on her forehead and is thin as a stick. She couldn't be older than her twenties. There are plenty of twenty-year-olds at Club Royale—female escorts, hostesses, and even waitresses—but there's no janitor in their twenties.
• The woman expected Mabel to start pleading, complaining about how hard life was. If she really began to spew all that nonsense, the woman was ready to throw her out immediately.
• Life's hard? Ha! Club Royale has more sob stories than you can fill a library with. Who cares about a stranger's struggles?
• Instead of whining, the rough, exaggeratedly hoarse voice sounded calm. “If I could sell myself, I'd gladly spread my legs and say, 'Welcome.' Before I came here, I looked at myself. I don't have the assets to sell my body, so I'll sell my labor. I'll do the work I can do.” I'm nothing but prisoner number 926 now. After leaving that place, what dignity do I have left? A mocking smile appeared in Mabel's eyes.
• The glamorous woman was a bit surprised. She looked Mabel up and down again, then went back to her desk to fill out the form. “Mabel Jennings? The one that means 'dear'?”
• “Yes.”
• “Strange,” the woman said, glancing at Mabel. “If your parents named you that, they must love you very much.”
• Mabel's eyes were dull and lifeless, like a pool of still water. Love me? Yes, they loved me. If I hadn't been so wicked as to harm Whitney, if I hadn't brought disaster to the Jennings family, then yes, they probably still love me.
• “I don't have any family,” Mabel said calmly.
• The glamorous woman furrowed her brow at Mabel but didn't press further. She stood up and said, “Okay, let's go make a copy of your ID card.”
• As she got up and made her way to the door, her fifteen-centimeter high heels clacking on the floor, she suddenly stopped and turned to Mabel with a warning. “Mabel, do you know why I'm making an exception and hiring you?”
• The woman didn't expect an answer from Mabel and continued, “Because you said one thing right. If you could sell yourself, you'd sell yourself. Since you can't, you accept your fate and do the work you can.”