1

It takes three days for me to surrender.

Once I reach home, I run to my room and look for the bag I used last Saturday searching for that specific white card because today, my boss has officially called for a war.

She publicly criticised me in front of seventy executives during our monthly meeting. At first she was just introducing me to the team but towards the end of her speech she told me -fucking mentioned my name with her eyes directed to me- to be better than what I've been this one week.

"Maybe it's a slow week for you since you're still settling in but I expect better from now onwards."

Last week, on my third day here she called me to her office to ask me to step up my game. Because apparently, according to her, I'm lacking at delivering impactful results. She expects to get the job done yesterday if she's asking it today.

That's how I became determined from that moment onwards to be more efficient. I worked eight hours every day compared to what I used to back in my home country, pushed myself so hard to ensure I deliver more than what was expected.

But that's still not enough? That she needed to humiliate me in front of others instead of telling me personally?

You know what, I'm gonna call this Collins woman and have my acting career started. And when I become the next Scarlett Johansson, you're gonna eat your words because during that time, I'm already a million times richer than you! Fucking work like a rat while I enjoy my millions! Hmph!

Yeah yeah twenty-nine behaving like a twenty year old. Whatever.

And for anyone who would comment that it's too late to start an acting career at twenty-nine, well, I'm Asian. We don't age. Especially when I'm standing at five feet one, I look more like a school girl than somebody who has worked for six years in the industry.

"Hello, Collins speaking." The same voice I heard last Saturday answers the call. Good, this is indeed the right number.

"Hi," Gosh I'm so nervous, "We met last weekend. On Saturday, near the subway. No no not the food subway but uhh the transport. The train," Damn it I suck at this, "I wore black coat with the-"

"Ohhh you're Scarlett."

"Huh? I'm Scarlett? Is that my character's name? I already have a role? Or I'm the next Scarlett Johansson?" I laugh to my own joke, to which she chuckles elegantly.

"Does this call means you're taking my offer?"

"Ermmm maybe. I don't know yet. Can we meet first? I wanna know what I'm getting into."

"Sure, I can ask my driver to pick you up now."

"Now?" Wow that was quick. Am I really in demand?

"Erm can you just give me your address? Maybe it's just nearby? I can just walk there if that's the case." To be honest I'm taking a precaution.

Because there's a chance she's a human trafficker. Those clothes and car might be the outcome of a crime ring she runs. Perhaps I can g0ogle the place first to ensure my safety if it's indeed a dodgy area.

"Sure," she replies then drops me the address immediately, as if she's really legit with nothing to hide.

Okay, we'll see then.

***

My jaw dropped when I first saw the place. It's a classic four floor building that look like the infamous New York brownstones, I seriously thought it's an apartment building but it's indeed Cupcake's headquarter.

It was 8pm because I called her right after I got home from work, so it took me an hour to reach here by train from my house. Even when it's quite late, the place was filled with people in the same elegant workwear.

I was directed to Miss Collins' corner office at the fourth floor of the building, escorted by a young attractive male assistant. Bet he's gay, because according to the tv series I've watched, most male assistants in New York are gay.

No, I don't have anything against them, I'm just applying my knowledge to what I see in real life.

To my surprise, there's another man sitting in her office, and he keeps his eyes on me the whole time that makes me feel awkward as if I'm a fish in an aquarium- my purpose in life is just to swim and for people to watch me when they have nothing to do. I am not a fish, Handsome.

"I didn't even get your name last time." Her voice directs my attention back to her.

"Oh. Uhm, I'm Alya." I am both nervous with the lack of my appearance and the fact that I'm right here with these two beautiful, expensive looking people.

"Alya." The guy echoes in a deep rich voice, to which I nod and parrot, "Alya."

"Have a seat, Alya." She gestures to the empty chair next to the man.

I oblige and lower my bum on the seat, feeling more nervous that I'm sitting so close to the attractive, intimidating man.

"This is Drey." She introduces him as she takes the seat opposite us.

So Handsome’s name is Drey? Okay. But who is he? Why is he here? Because the way he's dressed, of how he composes himself, he's like those billionaires I saw in movies, wearing a custom-made suit. Definitely a mouth watering view. Is he married? Has a girlfriend? I'm still single, by the way.

"Hi Drey, nice to meet you."

"Pleasure meeting you," he smiles warmly at me, making my heart throb. Urgh, why is every man in New York so damn attractive.

Though I do think I have a problem with men dressed in suit. I seem to be attracted to every one of them, doesn't matter if they're really handsome or not. It's this aura they project, like a Superman changing into his costume and instantly have superpower.

"Alright. I will brief you on what we do and if you're still interested, we'll go with the case we already have for you."

"Case? You mean the role?"

Drey raises an eyebrow then turns to Miss Collins, "She already know?"

"Yeah," I cut her off, "She told me about being an actress. Uhm, Scarlett? Something like that?"

"Oh?"

Now he looks like he's enjoying the humor I seem to be feeding him. What's so funny about what I said?

"Nevermind, we'll get to it. Let me explain what we do first."

I nod, and pay full attention to her. I'm more excited about my role that I wanna jump straight to it but okay, let's hear what is it she wanna tell me about this agency.

"We have a website, called Cupcake. It's where men and women register themselves to be a sugar baby."

Errrr what? Did I just hear the word ‘sugar-baby’?

"We have a wide range of client list so based on their preferences, we'll match them with a sugar baby accordingly."

So you guys are like T!nder? But instead of us finding a match on our own, you'll do it for us? Like match makers? But for sugar babies?

"Cupcake has offices all over US but New York is the headquarter. And please, don't worry, we're operating legally." The smile she flashes does nothing to calm my nerves. What have I gotten myself into?

"We take care of our talents, and ensure everything is taken care of before any contract begins. We have our in-house legal team to back you up if any issue arises, and we make it a priority to be there for our talents before the clients."

Whatever is coming out of her mouth are just words going through from one ear to another as I'm still processing. So she's scouting me to be a sugar baby? What the fuck?

"Do you have any question?"

"What do you mean when you said you have a role for me?" Like she has already found a sugar daddy for me?

God, I feel like vomiting to the thought of being caressed like a cat by a man who's older than Papa with a huge round tummy and white hair. Ew. Yuck.

She picks up a thin file, "I'm gonna have to ask you for a signature if you would like to know about the role. An NDA is required to protect our client."

Okay this is interesting. To the extend of requiring an NDA? They sure sound legit right there. But whatever, I'm pretty much invested about this.

"It's just an NDA, right? Not that I need to pay or do anything. Right?" I just need to make sure.

"You won't have to pay if you don't spill anything to anyone, Sweetheart." And that's how I know Drey is gay. Sweetheart. Hm.

"Okay." And just like that I put my signature on a piece of paper after reading it thoroughly to which she sets it aside and opens another file.

She takes out an A4 size picture and puts it in front of me. But when I take a look at it, I become more confused.

"Why do you have my picture? And since when am I a blonde?" I can't help but to giggle, "But I do look good with blonde hair. Nice editing."

Because in that picture I look like a model, who was born in a rich family and eat apples all day instead of real food. So this is how I‘m gonna look like if I'm a size two? Funny, considering I'm at least four sizes away from the woman in this picture.

"That's not you, Sweetheart," Drey drops the bomb as Miss Collins adds, "That's Scarlett."