On her way home, Lola walked dispiritedly.
She felt that she had been too impulsive. She shouldn't have rejected Mr. L's kindness so decisively... Even if she didn't like studying, she should have agreed for the chance to spend more time with him. But she was simply too jealous. The moment she realized that she wasn't someone special in his heart, she lost the ability to think and couldn't rationally weigh the pros and cons.
It made sense, after all. How could someone like her be special in Mr. L's eyes? She was coarse, wild, and irritable—sometimes too timid to even pick up a knife and fork, and sometimes so impulsive that she would dare to bite his lips... He must think she's utterly ridiculous. The more Lola thought about it, the more flaws she saw in herself, and the more dejected she became.
Lola's heart felt as heavy as if a giant stone were pressing down on it. As she walked, her mind replayed every moment with Mr. L, filled with regret and helplessness. She kept asking herself, why couldn't she control her emotions? Why did she impulsively reject his kindness? She knew that her actions might have left a bad impression on Mr. L, and he might even distance himself from her because of it. Thinking of this, her mood sank further, and her steps became even heavier.
She should have gone to the restaurant first to explain her lateness to the manager, but her mood was too low. She didn't want to face anyone; she only wanted to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her, and sleep, so she headed straight home.
However, before she could enter the alley she had to pass through to get home, Lola suddenly sensed a dangerous presence. Each tiny hair on her arms stood on end.
Girls who grow up safely in the slums are born wild creatures, able to sense danger ahead of time, just like animals. Silently, Lola bent down, took off her high heels, and held them in her hand. She retreated step by step behind a brick wall, pressing her heels into the base of the wall and flattening her back against it.
She entered a state of stillness, her senses sharp and alert, controlling her heartbeat so it was lighter than her breathing. Her eyes darted back and forth, body tense, ears straining to catch any sound.
She heard arguing—a man and a woman. The man dragged the woman into the street and kicked her hard in the stomach, all because she had exchanged a few extra words with the milkman. How absurd. A plot that had been on Broadway stages since the 1920s① was still playing out right next to her.
Lola indifferently walked past the woman being beaten, then shifted her focus to a nearby tenement where an unknown band was throwing a drunken party. They were trying to get the only girl at the party drunk. Downstairs from the tenement was a shabby newsstand where two boys, their voices not yet deepened, were pooling their money to buy a copy of Playboy. Meanwhile, a theft was taking place in a nearby alley—two Black men had stolen an old Ford, and the air was filled with the sounds of alarms, engines revving, and the owner's curses.
This was where she lived—a dirty, rotten, violent neighborhood, reeking of sin and decay. Before, she never thought it was any different from the outside world, until she spent a night in Mr. L's world.
Lola knew she wasn't some fragile, pitiable flower blooming atop the filth of sin. She was a fierce Venus flytrap, nourished by violence and grime. She was neither delicate nor weak—on the contrary, she was aggressive, alert, and vengeful. That's why she was terrified that Mr. L might find out about her past. She feared he would see her as beyond saving.
After a while, hearing nothing out of the ordinary, Lola was about to put her high heels back on and continue walking home. Just then, she caught sight of a shadow moving abruptly in the distance.
In an instant, alarms blared in her mind. She dropped her high heels and took off running.
As soon as she started running, more than ten men of varying sizes emerged, their faces twisted with menace. Armed with wooden clubs, baseball bats, and tire chains, they chased after Lola. "Hey, you bitch! Don't run—how dare you owe us money and not pay up?!"
Lola ran even faster.
Holding her breath, she dodged and weaved as she ran, toppling anything she could along the way. She slipped into alleys, dashed into buildings, and nimbly jumped down the fire escape from the top floor.
Her heart was pounding so hard her chest hurt, and her throat was filled with the sweet, metallic taste of blood. The muscles in her calves trembled with exhaustion. But she couldn't stop. Stopping meant falling into an abyss, into hell. She had to use every ounce of her strength and wits to escape.
Her thoughts began to scatter, with fragmented images flashing through her mind like lightning. She recalled scenes from her childhood, of her mother arguing with those men, the look of despair in her mother's eyes forever etched in her heart. From that moment on, Lola understood that only by relying on herself could she survive. And now, once again, she found herself in a life-or-death situation.
The streetlamp on the corner flickered, casting unsteady light. Lola's body had long reached its limit, her legs felt as heavy as lead. Yet, despite this, she didn't dare stop. Suddenly, she sensed the presence closing in behind her, and her heart clenched in fear. She spun around sharply, hurling the high heel in her hand at the man closest to her. The man didn't expect Lola to fight back and was caught off guard, the shoe striking him in the face. He let out a scream and staggered backward.Lola didn't hesitate, seizing the opportunity to turn and keep running.
The streets of the slums were neither smooth nor clean. Lola dodged nails, sewage, mud, and rotting fruit peels, but she failed to dodge the shards of broken glass. The moment the glass cut into her foot, her nose turned red instantly, and she wanted to squat down, hug her knees, and cry helplessly.
She wished someone would reach out, pull her into their arms, and tell her not to be afraid. Anyone would do—even the woman who had abandoned her, the one who had vanished. She wouldn't even mind.
She was in so much pain, so exhausted. She didn't want to run anymore. But thinking about what would happen if those men caught her, she gritted her teeth, her face twisted in pain as she pulled out the shard of glass and threw it angrily behind her, continuing to run.
By the end of her run, her throat was dry and burning, and her mouth was full of bloody foam. Strange flashes of white light crossed her vision, and her head was starting to spin... Thankfully, the main road was just ahead. Once she reached it, she didn't believe those men would dare to mess with her anymore.
With that thought, Lola pushed herself even harder, not daring to stop or pass out. Her gaze was fierce and ruthless, and she bit down hard on her arm. The pain cleared her mind for a moment, and she kept running.
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