CeCe sat in her dimly lit apartment, her gaze fixed on the laptop screen as a refined voice explained the intricacies of etiquette. It was one of the many self-improvement videos she forced herself to watch, another step in her relentless climb towards perfection.
Today is her day off, a supposed rare break from the chaos of her life. But even rest felt like a luxury she couldn't afford. She mimicked the poised movements on-screen, her fingers grazing the rim of a crystal glass with effortless grace.
The woman in the video made it look so easy but CeCe knew better.
Nothing came easy to people like her.
Her lips curled into a wry smile as she leaned back against the velvet cushions, twirling the glass in her hand. "How far I've come." She murmured, the thought settling deep in her chest.
There was a time when she had been nothing more than a naive girl fresh from the province, dazzled by the city's lights and fumbling through every social interaction. Her accent too sharp, her manners too unpolished, too loud, too eager and too desperate to belong.
And society had been cruel.
It shaped her through whispered judgments and pointed sneers, through doors slammed and invitations that never came.
But she had learned.
Now, she is an image of sophistication. Her posture impeccable, her voice controlled and her gestures measured. She knew what wines to order, what topics to avoid and how to make the right people feel important.
Looking at her now, no one would believe she wasn't born into this world of glittering affluence. She blended in so well that sometimes she could almost fool herself.
Almost.
But, there were moments like now, when the illusion cracked. When she caught her own reflection and saw not the polished socialite she had become.
She had learned to mold herself like a chameleon shifting to match the people around her, mirroring their desires, becoming whoever they wanted her to be.
Sometimes she wondered if she stripped away all the layers, peeled back every carefully crafted facade, who would be left underneath?
She sighed.
It wasn't enough. Dressed in designer loans, smiling through unpaid bills and pretending to have it all while barely scraping by? None of it could change the fact that beneath the refined exterior and the carefully curated elegance... she was nothing.
She pressed her fingers to her temple and exhaled slowly through her nose. Did everyone have to fight this hard just to stay afloat? To choose between rent and a decent meal? Between dignity and survival?
No matter how much she learned or how well she played the part, she still felt it's not enough.
However she refused to let this be her reality.
She squared her shoulders, grabbed her notebook then click the video to rewind. There's more to learn and master. She would sharpen every skill, perfect every detail because she wasn't giving up.
She can't afford to give up!
Then her phone rang, breaking her concentration. CeCe frowned as Corinna's name flashed on the screen. It's her younger sister.
″Yes, Ina?"
"Sis..." A choked sob came through the receiver.
"What's wrong?″
"It's Opè... his lung collapsed. They need to operate." Corinna's voice broke. "The money from before—it's not enough for the hospital deposit."
CeCe stilled as she absorbed the weight of Ina's words.
Pneumothorax. A collapsed lung. It was a common complication for people with cystic fibrosis.
She shut her eyes.
The weight of memory pressing down on her as she recalled the first time the twelve years old Cooper was diagnosed with this illness.
She just arrived in the city at that time. Her memory vivid as she sat in her tiny boarding house, gripping the phone, feeling helpless as she listened to Corinna crying on the other end.
She didn't even know how she made it through that night.
The despair of knowing there was still no cure for the disease was soul-crushing. The unrelenting cost of daily medications, the hospital bills piling up with no end in sight, was suffocating.
A future weighed down by debt, by fear, by the kind of grief that never lets up, came to her that night.
They needed money. Huge sum of money.
But how and where were they supposed to get it?
She was working long hours at a fruit stand in a mall, barely scraping by, with no savings and no future in sight. That's when Ms. M appeared, offering her something she had never even considered: becoming an actress.
It wasn't a dream. But it was an escape. A chance to earn real cash.
So she said yes.
She plunged into the world of show business with nothing but sheer will, not fully aware of what she was committing to. She stood at the edge of destiny, unsure whether what lay beneath was heaven or hell.
Still, she willingly fell anyway... she was twenty.
"Sis?" Corinna whispered.
"Is Victor—?" CeCe parted her lips to speak but hesitated. Never mind. She knew better than to ask.
But Corinna who isd too distraught to notice, still answered. "Dad's still—"
"Forget it." CeCe cut her off, flatly.
There was no use asking about Victor, a good-for-nothing who had squandered what little money they had on booze. He was never there when they needed him and he wasn't here now. He never would be.
CeCe clenched her fists.
It was as if she were eight again, dragging Victor home in the dead of night. Supporting his slumped, drunken form as he stumbled and mumbled incoherently.
The path was steep, and their house sat above a creek, making the climb treacherous in the dark. She couldn't remember how many times she had nearly lost her footing, nor how often her knees scraped against the rough ground.
The edge of the trail would crumble beneath every step, threatening to send her tumbling down and yet, each time, she found the strength to pull them both forward.
She had been so small back then. Barely more than skin and bone, while he was taller, older. His dead weight nearly twice her own.
Even so, she had managed to drag him home.
That memory had cursed her for years. Sometimes, she would wake in the middle of the night convinced she had died that night, that a part of her still lived in that moment, on that path, struggling for air.
The mere thought of it, the mere thought of him, could send her into a stupor like her body was bracing to fall all over again.
Therefore, she find it absurd that after everything she had been through, she still felt the urge to ask about him the instant something went wrong.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was instinct. But for a fleeting second, she had wished just once for someone—anyone—to share the weight with her.
But she wasn't a child anymore.
"I'll get it." She said. "Just stay with Cooper. I'll handle the rest."
CeCe ended the call, opened her online banking app, and stared at it, frowning.
A tightness formed in her chest as tears threatened to well in her eyes. She inhaled sharply, steeled herself then, without hesitation, sent every last cent she had to Corinna.
She sat in her apartment in utter silence.
For a moment, CeCe's eyes flickered with grief, anger, and despair clashing in a silent conflict. Then, after what seemed like forever, her emotions stilled as if a battle had ended within her.
In her gaze, there was something akin to peace, like she had finally reach a consensus with herself. She picked up her phone. Her fingers hovered over the screen.
For a split second, doubt flickered in her eyes but she crushed it just as quickly as it came.
Everything unfolded quietly as if the choice she was about to make weren't capable of altering her entire life forever. And frankly, in that moment, it didn't matter to her at all.
CeCe calmly dialed a number.
"Ms. M? Can we meet?"