When the doors of the elevator finally open after what seems like an eternity, Ana hurriedly steps out, intent on taking the stairs down and returning to Alice's side, only to freeze on her spot, eyes widening in surprise and ears ringing with a forbidding ting as she takes in her surroundings and finds herself not in the entrance of a hallway, but inside a room.

Ana hesitates for a moment, her hand on the frame, before she steps inside the room, the alternative of returning back the way she had come and risk running into the brown haired boy with his lingering gaze and sly smirk making her feel ill at ease.

There's surely an exit point here. What hotel floor is not connected to a staircase? She tries to convince herself.

Ana walks further in the room, cheap sneakers shattering the silence as they make a squeaky noise against the expensive marble. 

The elevator doors slowly close behind her. 

"Hello?" She calls out softly, eyes flickering around the empty space. "Umm... Is anyone here?"

Her words are greeted by silence.

She lets out a sigh to find the room unoccupied, but her relief is soon overshadowed by a sense of growing dread in her stomach, an unease, as she truly begins to take in her surroundings.

The room is large and lavishly decorated with flowers, hanging bed curtains and innumerable candles, but obviously lived in, she realises, as she walks around, taking in the pillows and sheets that are tossed around haphazardly on the bed, stepping over the rolled tissue papers littering the floor carelessly along with several glasses and empty bottles of alcohol.

She turns round and round but finds no door, no staircase to lead her back to the floor below.

Ana's hand curls tightly against the strap of her bag, suddenly feeling the weight of her phone inside and wishing that she would have exchanged numbers with Alice sooner rather than wait until the last moment, at least then she could have called her friend —

Oh, no. 

Her eyes widen when she thinks about Alice, for the other girl must have surely noticed her absence by this point and was perhaps worrying over her sudden disappearance. 

Her eyes flicker towards the elevator, shoulders drooping, a resigned sigh escaping her lips.

"You have no other choice, Ana," she murmurs to herself. "Do you want to miss the bus? Don't be a coward!"

Ana knows that she might very well run into the strange brown haired boy again, for all it felt like an eternity to her, she had barely spent over five minutes in the room, and so chances were likely that the boy was where she had last left him. 

Her stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought.

She begins to walk back the way she had come, only to suddenly stumble, arms flaying wildly as she crashes on the floor on all fours with a soft oomph, the empty wine bottle she had inadvertently stepped on rolling towards the elevator with an ominous clatter, her eyes following it, widening in sheer horror at the ting that echoes in the silence— The telltale sign of the elevator doors opening.

"My lady, please, that girl is just trying to accuse Master Leonid of something he has not done." 

She hears a nasally voice speak loudly from inside the elevator.

"That girl is Leonid’s future bride.” Another voice snaps, more posh sounding, more intimidating. "I usually let my son run around wild, but today I will not accept any mistakes. I cannot take any risks, Rose. You realise how important this engagement is for us, don’t you? It does not matter how madly in love the girl is with my son. The Nazyalenksys' would never accept their daughter being insulted so openly."

Before Ana can even think of moving, the elevator doors completely open, and two women walk in the room, going rigid in their spots when their eyes fall on her sprawled form.

Ana only blinks up at them, like a rabbit caught in a snare.

There are two of them, but there is an obvious, marked difference in their stature.

One of the women is clearly the subordinate, dressed in a formal black skirt and blazer and standing two paces behind the other, older woman, who is dressed in an extravagant gown and is staring down at Ana's sprawled form on the floor as if she were something disgusting under her diamond studded heel.

"Who are you?" The older woman hisses, breaking the uncomfortable silence in the room, her red lips curling back in distaste. 

And as if she were a statue coming back to life, Ana quickly jolts back to her feet, smoothening her dress with shaky hands. "I-I..." she stutters, no words escaping her mouth, eyes as wide as that of a deer.

The older woman's nose flares in anger. "Speak, girl!" she commands, imposing and impatient.

"I... I'm Ana." She finally replies, throat feeling dry as she gulps down her fear. "Ana Winters."

She immediately bites the inside of her cheek, realising her mistake the moment the beautiful older woman looks at her sharply, akin to a shark smelling fresh blood.

"Winters?" She frowns, before turning to her formally dressed companion. "Rose!" She snaps. "Do we have any guest by the name of Winters on the guest list?"

The formally dressed woman, Rose, quickly types something on her tablet before her eyes narrow to slits and she shakes her head. "No, my lady."

Ana watches the two women exchange a silent look, before the older woman moves her eyes up and down her form, calculating and watchful, making Ana fidget under the intense scrutiny.

"So what Kira said was true then?” The older woman murmurs to herself, sounding exasperated. 

What is true? Ana thinks, confused eyes darting between the two women.

“I—“

Ana begins, but the older woman waves her palm dismissively, "I do not have the patience to deal with the likes of you."  She sneers in disgust, sharp eyes searching the room like a hawk. "Where is my son?"

Ana blinks. "Your son?" 

"Yes." The woman snaps impatiently. "Where is Leonid?”

"I-I don't know who Leonid is." Ana replies, unable to make sense of the conversation. "I —"

The older woman barks out a laugh, high and cold, making Ana shudder. 

"You don't know who Leonid is and yet here you are in his room, sitting around for him like a good little whore!"

Ana gasps at the accusation, eyes widening, cheeks burning red with humiliation. "E-Excuse me?"

The older lady raises a perfectly arched eyebrow, lips curling in a condescending smile."Did I say something wrong?"

Ana's heart begins to hammer against its cage, an ache in her throat like she's swallowed glass as she lets out a trembling exhale. "T-there's some misunderstanding, ma'am," she croaks. "I was looking for the ladies room and there was a boy down who —"

"And the only bathroom you found was here? In the young Master’s suite?" Rose interjects, eyes flashing with a knowing look. "What a poor coverup! I would have expected something better, especially for a girl with a... proclivity such as yours," she says delicately, eyeing Ana's worn backpack and shoes with something akin to disgust.

"I- I'm not lying,"Ana chokes out in disbelief, tears beginning to gather in her eyes. "I'm not, I'm not that ... please!"

"What are you doing in his room then?" The subordinate hisses, toad-like face red and splotchy, eye twitching. "We have no Ana Winters on the guest list. Tell me, whom did you come to the party with?"

The subordinate's question makes the older lady tilt her head in curiosity, dark humour swirling in her eyes. "Do you have an answer, girl?"

Ana nods vigorously, wipes the wetness on her cheeks with one hand and opens her mouth to explain—

("The security is really strict at such events. If a name is not on the list, then no matter who you are they won’t let you in."

"Then won't you get into trouble?"

“Only if they find out.”)

She stops short. 

The words to prove her innocence die on her tongue once Alice's face flashes before her eyes. Knows instinctively that should she reveal the truth then the other girl would find herself in much deeper trouble.

And how could she throw Alice under the bus? 

Alice, who had shown her kindness and offered Ana a chance at friendship when no one else had done so before. 

She could not, would not!

And so Ana simply shakes her head once, silent, lowers her eyes to hide the tears in them, lip trembling as she fails to catch the hitching sob of her next inhale.

"I thought as much." She hears the older lady drawl, disgust dripping in every word. "This coy, innocent act is nothing but a facade these days, don't you agree, Rose?"

She hears the click of heels coming towards her, flinching violently when her chin is forcefully raised.

"They all look and act the same, Lady Cassandra," the woman named Rose replies, sharp nails digging in Ana's skin. "Master Leonid is not at fault. He’s simply too naive to understand that girls like her are always hoping to elevate their status by trying to seduce and trap the heirs of powerful families with their innocent faces and honeyed tongues," she spits, rolling her eyes before she lets go of Ana’s face with a jerk. 

Ana sniffs, eyelashes wet with tears, but she doesn't dare reply back, because there are old lessons already sunk inside her skin. She simply presses the back of her hand to her mouth, hand quaking.

"You're passable at best," Lady Cassandra chuckles, all prim and elegant. "But did you really think you could continue to seduce my son looking like that, you little harlot?" She hisses coldly, voice rising, a frigid mask on her face. "Are you not satisfied with spreading your legs for him once that you’re so eager to do it again?"

“Never mind that a son from the Kozlov family wouldn't look at someone like her, let alone touch twice!" The subordinate adds, a smirk on her lips.

It's a misunderstanding, Ana wants to choke out. I'm not. I'm not a —

But their words are akin to little blades that continue to shred her apart.

"I should have you dragged out by your hair for daring to spoil my darling son's engagement party." Lady Cassandra announces, and Ana stares at her in horror, sees the way the older woman's eyes soften at the mention of her son. 

"But it is a big day for my son and I, and so, I will be merciful to you. Leave!" Lady Cassandra commands sharply. 

Ana knows she is shaking, should try to not be so blatantly scared, and yet she is unable to stop the sob that tears out of her chest, high and violent.

“Didn’t you hear Lady Cassandra?”

She nods tearfully and begins to walk out when a cold hand reaches for her wrist, manicured nails digging into her skin.

Ana stares up at Lady Cassandra fearfully as the woman extends an open palm in her subordinate’s direction, who seems to understand the unspoken command and quickly opens the jeweled clutch, fishing out several hundred dollar bills and handing it to the older woman.

And before Ana can pull away or react in any way, she feels the smack of the bills hit her squarely in her face, causing her to flinch violently.

“For your services.” Lady Cassandra sneers. “Let it not be said that a Kozlov son owes a whore anything.”

In the background, the woman named Rose laughs coldly. 

And Ana only stands there, head hanging, tears rolling down her cheeks, money at her feet.

"Collect your due and get lost before I call for my guards and have you thrown out of this hotel like you deserve!" 

Ana doesn't wait to listen to anything else as she wrenches her hand free and stumbles past the two women, stepping over the money and towards the open elevator which closes shut behind her, head lowered, the vile allegations clinging to the nape of her neck like dirt. 

The elevator doors don't even open completely before she finds herself running through the empty hallway, her steps echoing ominously, the dim lights in the corridor appearing darker than before, casting shadows as she runs.

A whore. 

The two women had thought Ana to be a whore.

She scrubs at the wetness on her cheeks furiously as their words continue to resonate in her head, a slow growing poisonous seed beginning to take root, a melting sort-of feeling in her heart.

She should have known this place was not for someone like her, should've known that a poor orphan from Oklahoma did not fit into the high society parties of New York, 

should've, should've—

Ana runs head first into someone, broad and thick and man, her forehead hitting a hard rock chest, and she stumbles, would have fallen if not for the large palms that reach out and grip her hips, dragging her into a cage of arms, fingers splayed wide and warm over the low of her back, her nose burying against someone's chest.

Her pulse rockets, a tremulous beat beneath her skin, but she keeps her eyes shut and head lowered, frozen yet again, too afraid to even raise her head and look. 

Air brushes the top of her cheek, as if whoever it is, is leaning over her, his voice so rough and deep and warm it makes her shiver unconsciously.

"What are you?" 

She hears a low whisper, soft with disbelief and weighted with ... something she is unable to name.

Ana's chest jerks, just once, a painful breath at a too innocent question, an echo in her skull.

A whore.

She chokes back a silent sob, and pushes herself away from the man roughly, before twisting away from his outstretched hands as he begins to fall.

In the dim light and through tear filled eyes, she catches only a flicker of his broad, sharp jaw, and straight nose before she is running.

In the lobby she pushes people aside, not caring about anything but wanting to leave but her steps falter when she reaches the corridor close to the double doors that had led them to the ballroom.

She feels a little pang of shame for not having said goodbye to Alice; sweet Alice who had been so good to her. 

Her first friend. 

In a moment of weakness, she contemplates returning and finding the girl.

Unbidden, a voice resonates in her ears.

Whore

.

.

.

She doesn't turn back.

.

.

.

Later that night, on the bus ride, Ana huddles in her seat, glassy eyes staring out the window, a hitching sob stifled beneath a trembling palm, belly aching and heart full of grief. She cries and cries, before her eyelids begin to flutter, tired, and she falls asleep, unbeknownst to the fact that her life had been altered in more than one ways that night.

**************