Default Title - His Sadistic Love

part 4:🌹 first time as waitress 🌹

Liza's POV🥀

I woke up and practiced my smile in the mirror, rehearsing the lines I'd need as a waitress in my small room. Tonight was my first shift at the exclusive bar where the city's elite gathered. I was grateful that the owner had taken a chance on me, but a gnawing unease settled in my stomach. This was my only option to earn money for my father's hospital bills after his terrible accident last week.

As I paced the room, memories flooded back. My dad had always been my rock, his laughter echoing through our small apartment. Now, all I had was the sterile smell of the hospital and the faint sound of beeping machines. I needed to make this work.

I pulled on a plain black top and dark jeans, opting for comfort over glamour. I wanted to fit in with the atmosphere, but I didn't want to stand out too much. Glancing at my reflection one last time, I grabbed my phone and texted my dad, hoping he could feel my determination from the other side.

On the way to the bar, I replayed the instructions in my mind. "Smile, be polite, and don't let them see you sweat." As I approached the entrance, the glimmering lights spilled onto the sidewalk, illuminating a world I had only seen from afar.

Inside, the atmosphere was electric. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and laughter floated through the air. I took a deep breath, reminding myself of my purpose. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the elegantly dressed patrons who seemed to float on a cloud of luxury. I felt out of place but pushed through the doubt.

My first table was a group of well-dressed women who barely acknowledged my presence. I forced a smile, jotting down their orders with shaky hands. As I navigated the clinking glasses and bustling waitstaff, I felt a mix of fear and exhilaration. This was a different world, one where every move mattered.

As the night wore on, I served drinks to various tables, including a group of young men who seemed intrigued by me. They laughed easily and exchanged glances, dropping generous tips without hesitation. I remained oblivious to their attraction, focusing instead on the rhythm of my work.

Finally, as my shift ended, I counted the tips I had earned. My heart raced with gratitude as I realized it was more than I had hoped for. I couldn't believe the generosity of the patrons. Every dollar brought me closer to helping my dad.

I left the bar feeling a mix of exhaustion and hope. I knew this was just the beginning, and while I wouldn't call my dad for money tonight, I was determined to make this work for both of us.

With each step home, I felt a spark of optimism. I would keep pushing forward, doing whatever it took to ensure he got the care he needed.

AUTHORS POV

Liza was feeling a surge of happiness as she recounted the tips she earned from her shift last night. Dressed in a casual yet modest outfit, she prepared to visit her father in the hospital with her mom. The light fabric of her blouse and comfortable jeans gave her a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos that had enveloped their lives since the accident.

Upon arriving, a wave of anxiety washed over her. The doctor approached them with a somber expression, and Liza's heart sank. "I'm sorry, but you can't see him yet. The nurses are performing surgery," he said gently. Liza and her mother exchanged worried glances, their hearts heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Despite the situation, Liza felt a flicker of determination as her mom handed the doctor the necessary funds for the surgery. Her father's wounds were severe, and the cost was high. In that moment, Liza realized just how much she needed to work, to push herself harder than ever to earn the money required for her father's care.

Reflecting on her job as a waitress, she couldn't shake the discomfort it brought her. She had never liked working in a bar, especially one filled with wealthy men who often catcalled the female staff. The sight of the bar dancers, performing on poles in front of the men, stirred conflicting feelings within her. She understood their struggles; many of them came from poor backgrounds and hadn't finished school. They were doing what they had to do to survive, just like she was.

Liza felt a pang of regret about her own education. She hadn't finished college, either, and while she had hoped for a different future, the reality of her father's situation had forced her into this line of work. She often told herself to be grateful she hadn't taken an even more demeaning role. At least as a waitress, she had some control over her environment, even if it was uncomfortable at times.

As they waited for updates on her father, Liza made a silent vow. She would work harder, find new ways to earn money, and ensure her father received the care he needed. With each shift, each customer she served, she would remember why she was doing this. For her father. For their future.

No matter how difficult the path ahead seemed, Liza knew she would persevere. She had to

Liza's POV

As Liza stepped into the house with her mom, she could feel the heaviness in the air. Her mother's eyes were red and swollen from crying. Concern washed over Liza. "Mom, is something wrong?" she asked softly.

Her mom forced a weak smile, shaking her head. "I'm fine, sweetheart. I just need to rest." Liza nodded, though the worry gnawed at her. They both needed rest, but the weight of their situation made it difficult to find peace.

They retreated to their rooms, and Liza sat on her bed, the familiar comfort of her space offering little solace. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she clasped her hands together and prayed to God, desperately asking for her father's safety. "Please let him be okay," she whispered, her voice trembling. "And give me strength for tonight."

The memories of her time at the bar flooded back-loud laughter, clinking glasses, and the unsettling sound of men catcalling the waitresses and dancers. Each incident replayed in her mind, a reminder of the environment she found herself in. It had been traumatizing, each comment and gesture leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Paranoia began to creep in, making her feel like eyes were always on her, judging and objectifying. It was horrible. She just wanted to focus on her job, to earn money for her father, but the atmosphere at the bar made it nearly impossible to feel safe.

Liza wiped her tears, feeling the weight of her emotions. She had to keep pushing forward, not just for herself, but for her father and her mother. She would go to work tonight, face the uncomfortable reality, and hope that each shift brought her closer to the money they needed.

"Please, let tonight be okay," she murmured before laying back on her bed, trying to calm the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind. She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would come, even if just for a little while.