The little rich woman fell in love with me

Ashley had leukemia and needed a substantial amount of money for surgery. I was forced to take a job as a host at Dream Island, a high-end karaoke bar, to earn money for her. Ms. Pearson, a regular, often requested Ethan, the most popular host, to accompany her, but she'd also ask me to sing in the background. One night, after work, this somewhat eccentric woman called me and asked me to sing to her until dawn, offering me $500. For Ashley's medical bills, I agreed to her strange request. But when faced with a choice between me and Ethan, she deleted me without hesitation. I was just a substitute, a singing sleep aid.

1.

The first time Ms. Pearson came to Dream Island, she set her sights on Ethan. She chose him to keep her company, but also requested me to sing for ambiance. In the private room, she confessed to Ethan, "Ethan, I've liked you for a long time. Will you be my boyfriend?"

Ethan refused. "Thank you, Ms. Pearson, but I'm only here to accompany you."

They flirted and chatted while I sang in the corner, feeling like a prop. I sang "Wonderwall," her request. When I finished, she turned and instructed, "Don't change the song. Just sing that. On repeat."

I inwardly groaned, wondering about her obsession with Oasis.

Ms. Pearson and Ethan went back and forth for another half hour before she finally lost patience. "Fine, you just want to drink? Then drink up!" She pointed at rows of shot glasses on the table. "Drink! Let's see how much you can handle. A thousand bucks a shot."

My ears perked up. Why couldn’t I get in on this action? I wanted to drink too! A thousand dollars a shot? That was insane!

Ethan, clearly thinking the same thing, started downing the shots without a word. By the tenth shot, he couldn't take it anymore and stumbled out to throw up. Ms. Pearson sat back, legs crossed, looking annoyed.

I cautiously approached. "Ms. Pearson, can I drink for him? I'll do it for five hundred a shot."

She didn't even look at me. "Go back to singing! Don't stop!"

Ethan returned and gamely continued, eventually downing over twenty shots and pocketing over twenty grand. Me? I sang "Wonderwall" dozens of times until my throat was raw, earning a measly thousand in tips. Talk about a reality check.

For the next few days, Ms. Pearson came looking for Ethan, spending over ten thousand dollars each time. But despite the money, Ethan still refused to be her boyfriend.

2.

Then, Ms. Pearson stopped coming. It seemed she'd given up.

I teased Ethan, "Man, you broke that girl's heart."

He shrugged, applying his foundation. "Whatever. I have plenty of clients. I won't miss her."

He was insufferable, but he had the right to be. Ethan was handsome, skilled with makeup, and cultivated a cool demeanor that attracted female clients.

One night, I came home exhausted, ready to collapse. My phone rang. It was Ms. Pearson.

Her voice was soft. "I can't sleep. Sing to me. I'll pay you."

I was taken aback. This was a new one. But she mentioned money, ...