Eclipse

7

Shion
I knew this would happen sooner or later.
|| Fucking Vance. ||
Okay. Enough overthinking.
I didn't sleep at all after my shift. Every time I closed my eyes, my brain replayed the exact same scene: Vance's hand wrapped around Maya's wrist.
Yeah. Great. Love that for me.
I needed fresh air. And coffee. Probably both before my brain decided to give me a full-blown panic attack.
Good thing it was my day off.
Today's plan:
1. Get coffee at Starbucks.
2. Go home.
3. Sleep for the rest of the day.
4. Forget Eclipse exists.
I ordered an iced Americano and took a window seat.
The bell above the door chimed. I glanced up instinctively, and my chest tightened.
It was Maya.
She wasn't wearing her oversized Eclipse maid uniform. In a simple casual outfit with her hair down, she looked completely different - softer, and entirely too bright for a rainy Tuesday morning. She was looking at the pastry display when she turned her head and spotted me. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then a warm, genuine wave broke across her face.
She ordered a sweet pastry and walked straight over, sliding into the booth across from me.
"Shion! What a coincidence," she said, offering a tentative smile.
"Are you okay? From yesterday."
"I'm fine," I said automatically, skipping the pleasantries. I leaned back, analyzing her face. I expected her to be traumatized, or at least packing her bags to quit.
"What about you? What's up with the erotic novel now? Are you still completely delusional about the 'romantic vibes' in a place like Eclipse, or did last night finally smarten you up?"
To my absolute shock, Maya didn't shrink back. She didn't even look angry. Instead, a thoughtful, stubborn light kindled in her eyes.
"I'm not delusional, Shion," she said softly.
"Last night was terrifying. The atmosphere in that club is truly troubling. It's dark, and it's heavy." She paused, taking a slow sip of her drink. "But the people... the people and their stories are what interest me even more now."
Yeah, sure. LMAO.
"Their stories? They don't have stories, Maya. They have bank accounts and impulses."
"No, think about it," she insisted, leaning forward across the table.
"Why are they actually there? Is it really just pure lust? Or is it something else? Are they lonely? Are they trying to escape something? What are the actual stories that drive someone to a place like Eclipse?"
I stared at her, genuinely amazed by her relentless optimism.
"They're pieces of trash, Maya. None of them are worth your attention or your empathy. They use people. That's their whole story."
Maya tilted her head, her gaze shifting from abstract curiosity to something much more direct. Her eyes locked onto mine.
"Okay. Then what about you? Why are you working there?"
Oh, we're doing personal questions now? Cool. Walls up.
"Hospitality industry. Experience."
"There are thousands of hotels and restaurants in the city," she countered gently.
"Why the darkest club in high society?"
I looked away, watching a raindrop slide down the coffee shop window. The silence stretched between us until the weight of it became too heavy.
"Because nowhere else pays enough to clear my student debt in a year," I muttered, my voice tight.
"And because after my tenth rejection from a proper corporate office, the manager at Eclipse was the only one who actually looked at me."
Maya's expression softened, that dangerous, empathetic listener side of her coming out again. "What was the original plan?"
And now we're getting into the questions I don't want to answer.
"I was planning to be a hotel manager. An elite resort, something clean, structured, respectable. I spent four years studying guest psychology, revenue management, luxury standards..."
And for what.
"But after working at Eclipse? Seeing what 'luxury standards' actually look like behind closed doors? I'm not really sure about any of it anymore."
Maya didn't offer pity. She just nodded, letting my words exist without judging them.
"Come on," she said suddenly, sliding out of the booth. "Let's go for a walk. The rain stopped."
The air outside was crisp and washed clean. We walked down the paved path bordering the lake, the tension from my confession slowly draining from my shoulders. As we rounded a bend near the docks, Maya suddenly stopped, pointing toward a small wooden shed with a sign that read: Boats for Rent.
"Oh, look!" she brightened, turning to me.
I looked at the wooden rowboats bobbing on the lake, then down at my reflection in the water.
Yeah, because rowing a boat after seven hours at Eclipse and approximately four panic attacks was exactly what I needed.
"Maya, I am way too exhausted to row a boat right now."
A mischievous smirk spread across her face.
"Tell you what," she joked, nudging my shoulder. "You can just sit there and look pretty while I do all the rowing."
Oh. So I'm eye candy now. Cool. And yet, somehow, I laughed. An actual, genuine laugh. Haven't done that in months.
"Fine. I guess I'll just keep working as a pretty boy then."
Twenty minutes later, we were out on the middle of the glassy lake. True to her word, Maya gripped the oars, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she pulled us through the water. I sat across from her, trailing my fingers through the cool lake water, watching the way the sunlight caught her hair.
For the first time since I graduated, the heavy, suffocating weight of Eclipse felt miles away. The air didn't smell like expensive bourbon or stale perfume, it just smelled like rain and fresh water.
By the time she rowed us back to the dock, the sun was beginning to dip below the tree line. We walked back toward the subway station in a comfortable, easy silence.
"Well," Maya said, stopping at the turnstile. "This was really nice. Thanks for the boat ride."
"Thanks for doing the heavy lifting," I replied, my hands shoved into my pockets. I looked at her, the usual cold mask feeling a little harder to put back on.
"See you at the next shift, Maya. Stay out of the VIP rooms until I check them."
"Yes, boss," she laughed, waving as she disappeared down the stairs.
I stood there for a second, watching the spot where she'd been, before turning to walk home. My legs were tired, but the knot in my stomach was completely gone.