Charlotte

During her job search, the naive Gabrielle encountered another naive girl, Charlotte. At that time, Gabrielle was wandering the streets, feeling troubled about what kind of job to take. With her high ponytail and white dress, she looked like a pure and innocent angel, but everyone on the street knew that this angel possessed a fierce fighting spirit and a vocabulary of insults that young girls could only dream of.

Gabrielle thought it was normal, and so did her mother. In their world, any young and pretty girl needed some means of self-defense to grow up safely, or else their beauty could become a sharp blade aimed at them.

Charlotte was aware of this rule but had never thought to abide by it. She believed she wasn't beautiful enough to need self-defense. However, she didn't realize that "beauty" wasn't a prerequisite for being violated; "vulnerability" was.

One day, not looking particularly attractive, Charlotte found herself in trouble, surrounded by several thugs. Gabrielle happened to pass by, a furious little cow with hands on hips, driving away the thugs like an angry bull. Charlotte, looking at Gabrielle's beautiful face, was stunned for a moment before saying, "Thank you... for saving me."

Gabrielle waved it off. "No problem. You better leave; this place is full of idle hooligans. I helped you this time, but there might not be someone to help you next time."

Charlotte blushed slightly. "I'm looking for someone. I've been wandering around and can't find her apartment."

"Who are you looking for?"

Charlotte clenched her hands tightly and stammered, "Mrs. Mason."

Gabrielle thought she misheard, "Say that again?"

Charlotte's cheeks turned red. "I'm looking for Mrs. Mason."

Gabrielle widened her eyes, whistling in surprise. Mrs. Mason was the most famous madam on this street. If not for her mother's reputation in the world of streetwalkers, Gabrielle might have had to go through Mrs. Mason to attract clients. The girl seemed so serious, dressed in a white shirt and a black long skirt. Gabrielle didn't expect her to be looking for Mrs. Mason.

Not wanting to get involved, Gabrielle said, "Mrs. Mason is at 245 Brook Street. Go straight, turn left, and then right; you'll find her apartment. If there's nothing else, I'll go. Be careful on your own."

However, Charlotte grabbed her arm and pleaded, "I have to be home before six in the evening... Can you take me there tomorrow? I can give you money or bring you food. I work at a fancy restaurant and can bring you fresh cream cakes. Those cakes are expensive, selling for $5 each outside. Please help me; I have something very important to discuss with Mrs. Mason."

Gabrielle wasn't interested in high-end cakes. She keenly caught a keyword: "You work at a fancy restaurant?"

Charlotte nodded.

After a moment's thought, Gabrielle said straightforwardly, "I'm looking for a job. If you can help me get a job at the restaurant, I'll take you to see Mrs. Mason."

Charlotte hesitated for a moment but agreed, "I can take you to meet the restaurant manager, but I can't guarantee that he'll hire you."

Gabrielle smirked, "No problem, that's enough."

Gabrielle's interview went smoothly, thanks to the fact that the restaurant manager was a man—any man couldn't resist a beauty like her. Moreover, she had put on makeup that day. While Gabrielle lacked talent in academics, she excelled at seducing men. She elongated her eyelashes, applied a bit of blush to her nose, and painted her lips a syrupy red cherry color.

The restaurant manager was captivated at first sight and decisively kept her. Finding a job so easily, Gabrielle couldn't help but feel a bit proud, thinking she was much smarter than her mother—both uneducated and lacking in intellect—yet the daughter found a more decent job than her mother.

That day, she brought Charlotte to Mrs. Mason's apartment. Although curious about what Charlotte wanted from Mrs. Mason, she didn't want to step into that luxurious tomb. Outside, she lit a cigarette, held it between her fingers, and took occasional puffs. White smoke rose, obscuring her dark brows and vivid red lips.

When Charlotte came out, she happened to witness this scene.

It was hard to imagine that the sexy siren before her was only eighteen years old. Charlotte took a deep breath, suppressed a fleeting envy, walked over, and whispered, "Let's go."

Gabrielle, watching her expression, couldn't contain her curiosity. "What happened to you?"

Sometimes, suppressed emotions are so overwhelming that even a casual inquiry becomes challenging to face. With reddened eyes, Charlotte threw herself into Gabrielle's arms, sobbing, "I'm done... My life is over!"

Ten minutes later, Gabrielle understood the whole story.

Charlotte was born into an ordinary family, but her expenses far exceeded what an average family could bear. However, she had no idea where the money went or what it was spent on. Gabrielle, with her own experiences, could relate; she often wondered why money was so easy to spend.

In the year Charlotte spent the most extravagantly, her father happened to be unemployed and spent his days watching TV. One day, he got bored and checked her clothes, pulling out a long bill from her pocket. The shock nearly knocked him out. Although her father later found her and brought her back, she dared not tell her family about her true spending.

Knowing that spending recklessly was not good, Charlotte couldn't control the growing shopping desires in her heart. Advertisements for flashy items were everywhere on TV and the streets. Additionally, many of her colleagues were involved with wealthy men—during the day, they were young and pretty waitresses; at night, they would wear sparkly short skirts, carry leather bags, and stroll with wealthy men.

After staying in such an environment for a while, she gradually began to blur the lines between right and wrong. With so many people doing it, even if it was wrong, so many were doing it with her. So she hooked up with a wealthy man. She didn't aspire to be his mistress, just to fill the financial gap at home and lighten the burden on her unemployed father.

That was her initial plan, but when she actually met a wealthy man, her shopping desires swelled even more. Unbeknownst to her, she accumulated more and more debts. A few days ago, a threatening call even reached her home. Fortunately, she answered the call herself; otherwise, she didn't know how to explain it to her father.

Amid such turmoil, her wealthy man disappeared. Helpless, she tried to find Mrs. Mason's address, hoping to find a new wealthy man to get through the difficulties. If Gabrielle hadn't encountered her that day and she had been defiled by the thugs, she probably would have chosen suicide.

Listening to her woes, Gabrielle felt little sympathy—she had heard too many stories of a benefactor suddenly disappearing and streetwalkers at a loss. She found it hard to be moved.

She secretly pondered, if one day, she also reached Charlotte's predicament, should she also find a wealthy man to get through the tough times?

With her petite and not very bright mind, she thought for a moment and came to a conclusion: Cross that bridge when you come to it!

Gabrielle didn't expect to use this strategy so soon.

As she listened to Charlotte's story, she felt she was incredibly foolish. How could someone spend so recklessly when they knew they had no money? But once she started working, she realized it was challenging not to compare herself.

The girls around her all wore high-end French lipsticks, making it impossible for her to take out her cheap lipstick in a plastic case. Their curled hair was glossy and elastic, clearly treated at upscale salons.

Though Gabrielle privately rolled her eyes and thought these people were enjoying services beyond their status, when it came to making a choice, she surprisingly found herself thinking about becoming one of them.

She looked down on their indulgence, yet couldn't resist the desire to get closer to that glamorous and dazzling world. Charlotte probably made the same choice, leading to her downfall.