THE MOTEL

VIVIAN'S POV

Moving to a new place was painful, yet strangely liberating. I wrestled with doubts: should I give up? Surrendering might mean becoming as expendable as a discarded rag, much like how the selfish Vinicius exploited me, turning me into a laughingstock. 

I checked into a hotel, but it didn't feel safe. The shadows concealed illicit activities that tainted the place, leaving me uneasy. My quest for an apartment had begun, but the agent remained silent, withholding any updates.

It felt as though I inhabited someone else's life, an existence not meant for me. I needed to reclaim my identity, stand up for myself, seek happiness, and aspire for greatness. Sleep eluded me, so I found solace in the company of the receptionist.