He was in his forties, with a mustache and slicked-back hair, dressed in a suit that seemed out of place among the rockers and punks of the Strip. But he had a friendly smile and warm eyes that made them feel safe. "You girls new in town?" he asked, his voice smooth but almost too friendly. "Name's Ray."
Maya's instincts kicked in, a wary feeling tugging at her. But Lena's eyes lit up, relief flickering across her face. "Yeah, we just got here," Lena said, exhaustion slipping into her voice.
"You girls look like you could use a little help."
Ray told them he was a talent scout, always looking for "new faces." He painted a picture of a life in LA they'd only dared dream of—photoshoots, parties, a real place to stay. "Everyone's gotta start somewhere," he told them. "And I know just the places to take you."
Maya felt her stomach twist. She glanced at Lena, ready to say something, but she could see the longing in her friend's eyes. Lena looked ready to collapse. Maya pulled her aside, lowering her voice. "Lena, we don't even know this guy. Something feels off."
Lena sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Maya, I'm so tired. I just need a night—one night in a real bed, without worrying about someone chasing us off a bench."
Maya frowned but could see how much Lena needed this. She nodded slowly, but kept her guard up as they followed Ray to a small apartment a few blocks away. It was barely furnished, but it was warm, with a couple of blankets and an old couch.
Ray offered them food, a couple of sodas, and then sat back, watching them closely as they ate. "So, what brings you girls to LA?" he asked, his eyes glinting with curiosity.
Maya shrugged, keeping her answers vague, while Lena leaned into Ray's friendliness, telling him how they'd come to start over. She seemed to trust him, but Maya felt a nagging sense of discomfort, watching the way his eyes lingered just a little too long.
That night, after Ray left, Maya lay awake, staring at the cracked ceiling. She whispered, "I don't trust him, Lena."
Lena didn't respond, her breathing evening out as she fell asleep, finally able to rest. Maya stayed awake, the city's sounds drifting in through the cracked window, as she kept a silent watch, unable to shake the feeling that Ray's kindness might come at a cost.
Over the next few days, Ray took them around the city. He introduced them to people—photographers, managers, people who he said could get them "in the door." He bought them clothes, shoes, even makeup, transforming them into the kind of girls they'd seen in magazines. Each night, they'd return to the motel, exhausted but thrilled, whispering about what their lives would look like in a few months' time.
One evening, Ray mentioned a "party" he wanted to take them to—a place where he said they could meet people who'd help them get started. "We'll be careful," Lena said, sensing Maya's worry. "We've got each other, remember?"
Ray's party was set for a Saturday night, a gathering he described as "the place to be" for aspiring talent. As the day approached, Maya felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. Lena glowed with excitement, her youthful optimism masking the red flags that flared in Maya's mind.
That evening, Ray arrived to pick them up in their two hundred dollar dresses. He had a charisma that made him seem larger than life, and for a moment, Maya could see how easy it was for Lena to be swept away. "You girls are going to love this," he said with a smile, ushering them into his car - a slightly beat-up sedan that felt surprisingly glamorous to the girls.
As they drove through the city, the streets buzzed with life. Neon lights glared brightly against the darkening sky, and the music spilling from nearby clubs created a rhythm that was infectious. Maya kept her eyes on the passing scenery, her heart racing as they entered a neighborhood that felt both thrilling and unfamiliar.
