His Entertainer

chapter 30

( EARLIER THAT DAY )
            
                         LUCIANA POV.
 It’s been hard. 
Everything feels different without Ivy.
We miss her. I miss her. 
When we heard she’d been bought, the frown lines etched themselves onto everyone’s faces.
We were happy for her, of course – she’d escaped – but the thought of her not being with us… it gutted us.

We clung to a sliver of hope when we learned her buyer was the club owner Mr. Rodriguez. We figured she’d visit, look after us. But it didn’t happen. Every Saturday, we waited, sometimes for hours. I’d linger near the entrance, hoping for a glimpse of her. We considered asking Eve, but her constant refrain, "She loves you," had lost its meaning.  Initially, those words brought comfort, but they’d become hollow echoes.

About two weeks ago, I found Sonia crying in the bathroom.  I hugged her, and she whispered, "Did she forget about us? What about all those plans we made?"

Today was another Saturday, another empty one. Even with our heavy makeup, the disappointment was visible on our faces.
"I'll wait by the door today, perform on my behalf," Silvia offered, but I stopped her. "Forget it," I said. "Let me go. I want to see for myself," she insisted. I held her shoulders, my voice firm. "It's enough. She's gone. Now, we're all that matters – just the three of us."

"You don't understand," she cried. "She can't just leave us like this! You don't understand!" 
"I understand," I reassured her, pulling her close. She melted into my arms, her mascara streaming down her face.

"Girls, to my office. All three of you," Genevieve called. I tried to wipe Silvia’s ruined makeup, but it was a lost cause.  "Go on," I told her. "I'll get Sonia, and we'll be right behind you."

I knew where to find Sonia.  In the bathroom, I headed for the last closed stall. "I know you're in there," I said.  The door opened a minute later.

"Till when will you keep doing this?" I asked, pulling her into a hug. I kissed her forehead, whispering, "I know it's not easy, but we have to be strong." She nodded, her silent tears a testament to her pain.

"Genevieve called us. Let's go," I said after a few minutes, splashing water on her face, trying to make her feel a little better before we left.

Genevieve hadn't been herself either. Perhaps she has struggles with her personal life perhaps.
She tried to maintain a façade of strength, but it crumbled. Sometimes, she'd climb to the club's roof, seeking solitude.
She smoked to calm herself i knew because I often joined her up there, seeking solace in the smoke.

"Your performance is low. We're losing customers, and Queena can't do it all by herself," Genevieve said, pausing, her voice strained. "I know. I understand how we feel in the absence of…" She trailed off, unable to say Ivy’s name, taking a long sip of whisky. "But we can't risk it. I hope I'm understood," she finally said, allowing us to leave.

_______________________________________
                      GENEVIEVE'S POV.

The door clicked shut, a single tear escaping, then another, and another, a silent cascade mirroring the torrent of grief within.  I stood by the window, a profound ache blossoming in my chest, a longing so intense it felt absurd.

Guilt gnawed at me, a relentless tide washing over me each time my gaze fell upon their expectant faces.  They sought answers, demanded updates on Ivy's well-being, her safety.  Of course, they expected me to know. Hermann is my brother; it's my responsibility. Yet, I lied, each time a fresh betrayal. I should have told them everything – that Ivy was beyond our reach, that she was gone.  Perhaps then, it would have been easier.