The whirring of the espresso machine punctuated the rhythmic hum of the coffee shop. Keisha stood behind the counter, her hands moving with practiced precision as she poured steamed milk into a paper cup. She swirled the foam into a heart, adding the final touch to a caramel latte. Despite her skill, her mind was far from the mundane task.
She was on a stage—bright lights cascading over her as she accepted the award for Best Actress. Her dress shimmered like liquid gold, and the crowd’s applause thundered in her ears. “Thank you,” she began, clutching the award as tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ve dreamed of this moment my entire life…”
“Hello? Are you even listening?” A sharp voice cut through her reverie, snapping her back to reality. The impatient customer in front of her tapped his fingers on the counter, his brow furrowed in irritation.
“Sorry about that,” Keisha muttered, hastily handing over the latte. The man snatched it from her hands without a word of thanks, disappearing into the crowd of caffeine-deprived patrons.
“Daydreaming again?” asked a familiar voice. Hazel, her best friend and co-worker, leaned against the counter with a knowing smirk. Her purple-dyed hair framed her freckled face, and her no-nonsense attitude was as vibrant as her appearance.
“Maybe,” Keisha admitted, wiping her hands on her apron. “I was just…thinking.”
“Thinking about how much you hate this job or how you’re going to skip another audition?” Hazel teased, her tone light but pointed.
Keisha winced. “It’s not like that. I’m just...not ready.”
“Not ready?” Hazel raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been saying that for years. When’s it going to change, Kei?”
Keisha didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she focused on the line of customers forming at the counter. The dream she clung to felt impossibly out of reach. It wasn’t just the fear of failure—it was the weight of her past.
---
Later that evening, Keisha trudged into her small apartment, the scent of roasted coffee still clinging to her clothes. The space was cramped but cozy, with mismatched furniture and a collection of secondhand books stacked in every corner. She dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the couch, exhaustion washing over her.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Picking it up, she saw a text from Hazel:
“Don’t forget: talent only gets you so far. You’ve got to show up for yourself too.”
Keisha sighed, tossing the phone aside. Hazel meant well, but she didn’t understand the fear that gripped her every time she thought about auditioning again. The memory of her first failed audition was still fresh, even after all these years.
She could still hear the casting director’s cutting words: “You’re not memorable. Next!” That one sentence had shattered her confidence, and she hadn’t set foot in an audition room since.
But there was more to it than just fear. Her father’s gambling addiction had drained her college fund, forcing her to drop out of drama school. The betrayal had left a deep scar, one she wasn’t sure would ever heal. Acting had always been her dream, but reality had a way of suffocating dreams.
Her phone buzzed again, this time with a notification from her side job. She stared at the message, her stomach twisting. It was a reminder for her next “appointment.”
Keisha worked as an escort—not in the traditional sense, but as someone who played roles for wealthy clients. She pretended to be the loving girlfriend, the charming date, or the devoted wife. It was acting, in a way, though it wasn’t the kind she’d dreamed of. The job paid well enough to cover her bills, but it was a constant reminder of how far she’d strayed from her true aspirations.
Her next client was someone new: a businessman named Mr. Blackwood. According to the brief, he needed her to pose as his date at a party and help him get rid of his gold-digging girlfriend. Keisha sighed, dreading the performance she’d have to give. But she had no choice. The rent wasn’t going to pay itself.
---
The next day, Keisha stood in front of her closet, rummaging through her limited wardrobe. She needed something elegant but not too flashy—convincing, yet forgettable. She finally settled on a simple black dress, pairing it with heels that pinched her feet.
When she arrived at the venue, a luxurious hotel downtown, she was greeted by Mr. Blackwood—a man in his late forties with graying hair and a sharp suit. His expression was stern, his handshake firm but cold.
“You know the drill,” he said curtly. “Stick to the script, and don’t draw too much attention.”
Keisha nodded, slipping into the role as easily as she donned the dress. She plastered on a warm smile, looping her arm through his as they entered the grand ballroom.
The party was a dazzling affair, with crystal chandeliers and champagne flutes clinking in the hands of the city’s elite. Keisha scanned the room, taking in her surroundings while keeping her posture poised and her smile unwavering.
It was then that she saw him.
Adrian Kane. The name was as infamous as it was revered. The billionaire philanthropist was known for his ruthless business tactics and an air of mystery that seemed to follow him everywhere. He stood near the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, his sharp suit tailored to perfection. His dark eyes scanned the crowd, exuding an aloof confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Keisha’s gaze lingered a moment too long, and before she could look away, Adrian’s eyes locked onto hers. She felt a jolt of panic, like a deer caught in headlights. His expression was unreadable, but there was a spark of intrigue in his gaze.
She quickly turned her attention back to Mr. Blackwood, who was now introducing her to a group of associates. She played her part flawlessly, laughing at the right moments and engaging in light conversation. But she could still feel Adrian’s eyes on her, a weight that refused to lift.
When she excused herself to grab a drink, her heel caught on the edge of the carpet, sending her stumbling forward. She braced herself for impact, but instead, she collided with someone solid.
“Careful,” a deep voice said, steadying her by the arm. Keisha looked up to find Adrian Kane staring down at her, his expression a mix of amusement and curiosity.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, flustered.
“Are you?” he asked, his tone teasing but sharp. “Or was that your way of getting my attention?”
Keisha’s cheeks burned. “Excuse me?”
Adrian smirked, releasing her arm. “Relax. Just an observation.”
“Well, your observation is wrong,” she shot back, straightening her posture. “Not everyone here is desperate for your attention.”
His smirk widened, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of respect in his eyes. “Noted,” he said, stepping aside to let her pass.
As she walked away, her heart pounded in her chest. Adrian Kane was dangerous—not in the conventional sense, but in the way he could make someone feel exposed with just a glance. She pushed the encounter from her mind, focusing on the task at hand.
By the end of the night, Keisha had successfully fulfilled her role, driving Mr. Blackwood’s girlfriend into a jealous rage that led to their breakup. As she left the hotel, her thoughts drifted back to Adrian Kane. There was something about him that unsettled her, something she couldn’t quite place.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had another day at the coffee shop tomorrow, and another audition she probably wouldn’t attend.
For now, her dreams would have to wait.