Mavis was having a really bad day. And by "bad," I mean so bad that if bad days were an Olympic sport, she would’ve won gold, silver, and bronze. She had just lost her job at Club Scarlet Heart. Not a small gig-oh no! This was a job that not only paid her rent, paid her tuition fees but also funded her little weekly shopping trips for things she didn’t really need but bought anyway because of shopping therapy. You know, essentials. The kind of stuff that made her feel like she was living in a glossy magazine, even though her reality was more like a "how-to-survive-your-twenties" blog post.
But here’s the kicker: it wasn’t just the job loss. Opps! Mavis’s voice, once rich and sultry, had become... well, let’s just say she now sounded like someone who had been chain-smoking since the age of
