The plate was empty. The orange juice was gone. And Liam’s sore body felt lighter than it had all day.

Rachel stood from the bed, stretching her arms above her head. His oversized t-shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of her soft chubby stomach. She caught him looking and smiled.

"Don’t get any ideas," she said, but her voice was playful. "You can barely move."

"I can watch," Liam replied.

Rachel laughed and gathered the tray. She carried it to the kitchen, and Liam listened to the gentle sounds of her cleaning up—water running, dishes clinking, the refrigerator opening and closing.

She returned a few minutes later, drying her hands on a towel.

"I have to go," Rachel said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "I have things to take care of at home. Laundry, bills, the usual boring stuff."

Liam nodded, though a small part of him wanted her to stay.

"Is it okay if I come back tomorrow?" she asked, her eyes searching his face. "I don’t want to overstay or... you know, be too much."

"Rachel." Liam’s voice was warm. "You could never be too much."

She blushed. Deep red crept up her neck.

"You know," Liam continued, shifting slightly on the bed, "that sexual healing earlier? It really helped calm my mind down. More than you think."

Rachel’s blush deepened. She pressed her palms to her cheeks. "Liam! Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it’s true."

She shook her head but couldn’t hide the smile spreading across her face. "You’re impossible."

"Am I? I think I’m quite possible as a matter of fact," Liam said.

Rachel giggled at this response.

The truth was, she had no idea why a young man this attractive would want anything to do with her. He could have anyone. But here he was, lying in bed, looking at her like she was the only woman in the world.

She could have him inside her. That didn’t come often for someone like her.

Rachel grabbed her bag from the chair, slipped on her shoes, and gave Liam one last look.

"I’ll clean up the rest tomorrow," she said. "Get some rest."

"Text me when you get home," Liam said.

Rachel nodded. "I will."

She left. The door clicked shut behind her.

Liam smiled to himself. She was getting used to this—the attention, the affection, the way he made her feel wanted. The first time they fucked, she had been slow and gentle, almost shy. But this time? She had been thirstier. Hungrier.

He knew he could keep fucking her as long as he kept her satisfied emotionally. And that? That was easy.

Liam reached for his phone. He had missed a few notifications while Rachel was taking care of him.

One message stood out.

[[[Mike: Good session today! We go harder tomorrow!]]

Liam stared at the screen.

"The fuck we are!" he exclaimed out loud.

His back chose that exact moment to remind him of the man who had tried to claim his life today. A sharp ache shot up his spine. He winced, dropping the phone onto his chest.

"Mike..." Liam muttered to the ceiling. "I am going to kill you."

-

Darren’s apartment was quiet, a little too quiet.

Darren sat at his kitchen table, the overhead light flickering like it was about to give out. He should have replaced that bulb weeks ago. But weeks ago, he had told himself he would do it next paycheck. Then next, then next.

Now he just lived with the flicker.

A stack of envelopes sat in front of him. White, off-white and one with a red stamp that read FINAL NOTICE in bold letters. He had opened them all, spread them out like a losing hand of poker.

Electricity: $347. Due yesterday.

Water: $112. Due in three days.

Internet: $89. Already late.

Credit card: $1,400 minimum. Due Friday.

Darren ran both hands over his face, pressing his palms into his eyes until he saw stars. He let out a long, slow breath.

"Fucking hell, man," he whispered to the empty room. "How am I supposed to cover all of this?"

The numbers didn’t change no matter how many times he added them. He had escaped poverty once—scraped his way out of a neighborhood where gunshots were lullabies and full refrigerators were a luxury. His grandparents had taken him in when he was twelve, pulled him out of that life before it could swallow him whole.

"Don’t end up like your father*, his grandmother used to say. You got a brain. Use it."

He had used it and graduated. Got a job and built something that looked like stability from the outside.

But inside? Inside was this table, these envelopes, and this fucking flickering light.

Darren leaned back, his chair creaking under his weight. The idea crept in like it always did when things got tight. A store maybe a shop or a gas station at night with one kid behind the counter. He knew people and knew people who knew people but these were all bad people. A quick lick, a few thousand dollars, and he could breathe again.

He closed his eyes and saw his grandmother’s face.

"That’s why they sent you away", a voice in his head reminded him. "So you wouldn’t become that."

His parents had made the hardest decision of their lives when they put him on that bus. They loved him enough to let him go and if he picked up that phone and called those people? He would be spitting on every sacrifice they ever made.

Darren opened his eyes, the envelopes were still there.

His options were narrowing. He could ask Liam for help—Liam would probably give it without question. But Darren had never asked for a handout. Not when Liam was making senior associate money, and definitely not now. His pride was a stubborn thing, and it had kept him alive more times than he could count. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

He stared at the final notice again.

"Maybe I can sell the car. Take the bus. That would cover—"

His phone buzzed on the table, vibrating against a water bill.

Darren picked it up. A message from Rachel.

[[Rachel: Hi Darren! So sorry for the late confirmation. Your rent has been cleared for this month. Attached is the receipt. Takes me a day or two to send the official confirmation, you know how it is. Have a good night!]]

Darren blinked in confusion because he hadn’t paid for it so there was no way this payment should have happened.

He read it again to make sure what he was seeing was right.

He hadn’t paid it or he would have remembered, that much is certain because the money wasn’t there.

"Liam."

Darren sat back in his chair, the wood groaning beneath him. A slow exhale left his lips. It was the sound of relief.

He looked at the pile of bills one more time. Still there, still due but at least, the rent was off his back. That was a few hundred dollars he didn’t have to find.

"You sneaky bastard," Darren muttered, but there was no heat in it. Just exhaustion and gratitude.

He saved Rachel’s message and set the phone down.

Tomorrow, he would figure out the rest. Tomorrow, he would call the credit card company and beg for an extension, tomorrow, he would keep grinding like he always did.

However, that single message completely made him forget about taking the illegal route as he couldn’t betray Liam that way.

Darren stood up, walked to the flickering light, and gave the bulb a soft tap. It stopped flickering almost like the universe recognized his change of fortune.

"About damn time," he said.

He left the envelopes on the table as he headed to bed but Darren knew he had to pay Liam a visit to show his gratitude.

It might seem like something small but for a man drowning in debt, every penny was accepted.