Wedding Bells, Death Knells

the California sun feels alien against my skin, and the only thing I crave is peace. Not salvation, not forgi

and take a job in the opulent heart of Los Angeles. On my first shift, amidst the clinking glasses and hushed power plays, I hear a

ith affection, now gleam with cold fury and malicious triumph. They relish in my humiliation, forcing m

herished to break me, piece by agonizing piece? Because I'm dying,

to parade my shame at every elite gathering. The pay? Substantial. A devil's bargain, perhaps, but it's