Mixed Feelings

It had been a month since I started working at Markos’ hotel; Peak Euphoria. It had been a month of witnessing Markos bring woman after woman into his penthouse. Coincidentally, it was always when I was cleaning.

If I didn't find his flavor of the week, it was used thongs and condom wrappers. Still, I carried on pretending it didn't affect me.

Like I didn't find myself constantly comparing myself to every woman he spent the night with. Like I didn’t spend long hours in the mirror hating my flaws and sinking myself into the bottomless pit of self-loathing and low self-esteem.

I found myself wondering if the money was worth all the mental torture. It was hard watching the man you liked choose everyone else but you.

It didn't help that each woman was better than the last–prettier, sexier, and richer.

Markos was a whore.

A whore I had yet to go over. A whore who stole my heart and refused to give it back.

All these thoughts were subsequently pushed to the back of my mind when the bills c