Velvet Shadows

XVI

Rain poured down in relentless torrents, turning the world into a grey, watery blur.

Angel ran through the downpour, her muscles screaming with every stride as if she could outpace the fears that plagued her.

Her hair, drenched and tangled, whipped against her cheeks, while her sodden clothes clung tightly to her frame, adding to her burden. She hadn't eaten all day, the gnawing emptiness in her stomach a constant reminder of her overwhelming anguish.

Car horns blared and catcalls sliced through the rain, but Angel was deaf to them, her headphones blasting the powerful strains of "O Fortuna."

The music pulsed through her veins, propelling her forward despite the exhaustion weighing down her limbs. She had taken far too many of the prescribed pills for her arm pain, and now their effects distorted her reality into a surreal, paranoid fog.

Every shadow seemed to harbor a threat, every passerby a potential danger.

A wave from a stranger or a simple hello caught her off guard, her mind conjuring threats where there were none.

As she ran, her eyes caught sight of a "We're Hiring" sign outside a smoke shop.

Desperation clawed at her, and she stumbled to a halt, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had already applied for jobs online, positions that matched her bachelor's degree qualifications, but the hiring process would take time.

Her anxiety had paralyzed her. Now, soaked and trembling, she pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling softly.

Inside, the shop was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of tobacco and incense. She felt the shopkeeper's eyes on her, his gaze a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Her hair hung in wet strands over her face, her clothes dripping onto the floor.

"Is the position still open?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain outside.

The man behind the counter, a burly figure with a scowl etched into his features, glanced at her with mild irritation. "The position's just been filled," he said flatly, his tone brokering no sympathy.

Angel felt a wave of helplessness crash over her. She almost begged but bit her tongue. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked down, her hair shifting to cover her eyes.

"Thanks anyway," she mumbled, turning on her heel and pushing back out into the relentless rain.

She continued running, her pace slowing as she reached the beach ten minutes later.

The rain had grown heavier, each drop pelting her skin with stinging force. Every step was a monumental effort, her body screaming for rest.

The vibrant life of Miami Beach was muted under the deluge, the usually bustling streets now sparsely populated by hurried, umbrella-clad figures. Her body ached, and her mind was foggy.

As she scanned the storefronts, another sign caught her eye, taped to the door of a beach shop.

She barged in, water pooling around her feet.

"I'm desperately looking for a job. I don't care if it doesn't pay much," she pleaded, her voice raw with urgency.

The clerk, a middle-aged man with a stern face, barely looked up from his work. "That sign's old. We haven't needed anyone for months," he said dismissively.

"Please," Angel begged, grabbing his arm with her wet hands. Desperation seeped into her voice. "I need this."

The man yanked his arm away, his expression darkening. "I said we don't need anyone. Now get out," he barked, rough-housing her towards the door.