I looked down at the un-lit candle positioned on the big vanilla muffin in my hand. Small, colorful sprinkles covered the pink frosting on top of the muffin, seemingly lighting up the dark surroundings. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my lighter, hearing a few sprinkles fall to the ground as I lit the candle. Holding my breath, I walked out of the dark storage room and into the bar, keeping my hand in front of the candle fire as to not have it go out.

Celine stood with her back to the storage door, therefore not seeing me when I entered the bar. On the customer side of the bar was Anthony, lazily sweeping over the counter with a dirty towel as he listened to my sister's story. Or at least pretended to.

As soon as I stepped out, he looked up, his eyes immediately locking on the candlelit muffin in my hand. The small smile on his face made Celine turn around, the confused expression on her face replaced with excitement as she noticed what I held out for her.

"Happy birthday, Ce." I put the muffin on the counter, a sensation of pride sweeping over me as I looked at Celine's gleeful expression. I made that happen.

"Make a wish before you blow out the candle," Anthony reminded her, dragging a bar chair from his left to sit on as Celine looked at the muffin with a thoughtful expression.

A birthday wish, what bullshit.

How many times had my mother reminded me to make a wish, as I was about to blow out my own birthday candle? Never had my wishes come true: My dad never returned, my mom's sickness never went away. Even the simpler wishes such as the return of my lost skateboard, an A on my English paper or some actual friends; they never came true.

If you wish for something to happen, you have to get it yourself.

But looking at my sister's happy face, staring so intently at the muffin I was afraid the fire would go out, I knew I couldn't ruin her birthday wish with the harshness of reality. She was putting too much into thinking out the perfect wish. Let her have her moment.

For the rest of the night, the three of us sat by the bar with a now eight-year-old Celine making sure to keep the conversation going. Anthony had found a bag of chips in one of the cabinets in the storage room, making me realize how much I missed the luxury of buying something as small as a bag of chips.

As the night dragged on, I knew I had to get the birthday girl in bed, and looking over at Anthony, I doubted he wanted to hear another one of Celine's experiences from school. Plus I needed to talk to him about the apartment he had messaged me about.

As my sister yawned, I helped her off the bar stool and told her to go to bed as it was well after her curfew.

"How was the apartment?" Anthony asked when Celine was on the other side of the door, leaning forward onto his elbows.

I sat back down on the chair, twisting the paper muffin cup between my fingers.

"It was nice, not too far from the Elementary school she goes to, so she won't have to change schools at least." It would be about a twenty-minute drive to her school, not all that bad, but still worse than the ten minute drive from the bar. However, I wasn't in any position to be picky.

I bit back my pride as I continued. "It's still a bit too expensive."

Even though he had found one of the cheapest apartments around, it still wasn't cheap enough. The break-in where money had been stolen from our last apartment had really robbed us more than I had admitted. However, in the time we'd stayed in the bar, rent less, I had managed to steadily build up our money supply. It wouldn't be too long before we were able to rent an apartment. I would just have to set this apartment off for the time being, knowing that someone just as desperate for an apartment as us would rent it soon.

Before Anthony could answer, someone rounded the corner of the bar, approaching us on Anthony's side of the bar counter.

"Hey, Anthony, you're still here?" Travis approached first, with Kingston behind him, greeting Anthony with the handshake I've seen most guys at school do. His eyes found me on the other side, but quickly looked away, as if he was not supposed to look at me. My eyebrows quirked up. As I hadn't exactly whispered when I had talked, I knew they had heard our conversation. Strangely enough, this fact didn't bother me as much as it should have.

Kingston nodded to Anthony in greeting before looking down at his expensive looking phone, his thumbs tapping away at the screen, not even bothering to look in my direction.

"Yeah, just talking with this lovely lady," he answered, laughing when he saw the bored, but slightly amused expression I was wearing.

Lovely lady, good one.

Save for Anthony's humor, the air was strangely tense, and something told me that it was because of the conversation they just overheard about my desperate need for money and an apartment.

"Well, I'm heading out, man. You're locking up, right?" Travis was already backing toward the entrance before Anthony got a chance to nod. He called on Kingston, who was still tapping away at his phone. My former tutee looked up at him and gestured him to go. "I'll catch up, just give me a sec."

Travis, not seeming bothered, shrugged and exited the bar. Only after the door was slammed shut, did Kingston lift his gaze from his phone and put it in his pocket.

"So, I guess there is no secret that we overheard your conversation." For the first time since they got here, he looked at me. "Cassie, if you need a place to stay while you get enough money for that apartment, we have a guest bedroom you can stay in at my house."

The way he offered the stay sounded so pitiful, I couldn't help but feel a wave of anger build up. Leave it to him to make me sound so hopeless.

"Thanks but as you know, I already have a place to stay while I save up," I answered, gesturing to the back room. Not really knowing why my former tutee, who I had no relationship with, wanted to offer me a room in his house.

Was it normal inviting homeless students to live with you for the time being? Not where I'm from, that's for sure.

"Well, the offer is there, at least. Consider it payment for your tutoring, so you wouldn't owe me anything," he finished nonchalantly before he nodded to Anthony and strode out the bar.

Our conversation about the apartment cut short after Kingston had walked out, and I found myself on the couch with Celine by my side shortly after. My mind unconsciously kept trying to figure out Kingston's game with this earlier proposal, not trusting him to do it payment-free. Even though he was right.

He did owe me.

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As I rounded the corner of the bar after school the next day, I couldn't shake the feeling of something being off.

Remembering what happened the last time I got this feeling, my heart automatically sped up and my body tensed. Like the last time, Celine is by my side. She continued walking toward the entrance of the bar, either oblivious or non-caring about my slowing steps.

The feeling was indescribable. Something was out of place.

That's when I noticed the car.

As the majority of the customers walk to the bar, because they're nowhere near sober when they leave, there are rarely cars outside the well-hidden place. The bar is positioned in a small back alley, leaving next to no room for a car to park there anyway. That's why the people that actually drive to the bar park at the closest store's parking lot.

Therefore, seeing the seemingly new-polished, black Mercedes Benz Sedan nearly blocking the bar entrance in the middle of the day, surprised me.

I followed Celine into the bar, relieved to see it empty as we made our way toward the storage room. Save for our echoing footsteps, no sound could be heard.

That is, until I made the mistake of opening the door to the back room.

"- kind of motel?" The man's rumbling voice carried out through the bar as I froze in the doorway, holding my hand in front of Celine to stop her from walking in. My head inclined ever so slightly to the side as I listened.

"No, of course not. They needed a place to stay while searching for a new place-"

"And you thought my bar was the best place to rent out a room from?"

I closed my eyes and held my breath as realization hit me. The dreaded general manager was here, with his shiny black Sedan. Obviously he had caught onto our 'sleepovers' at the bar, after finding the sheets on the sofa and our bags in the storage room. And he was pissed.

"Hey, he only wanted-"

"You stay out of this boy. Don't make me re-evaluate hiring you," the manager interrupted the second guy, his stern voice leaving no room for arguments.

A strained pause followed.

Then the first voice spoke up again. "She is our best income, sir. A lot of people only come to see her fight. If we throw her away, she'll leave the bar-scene for good."

I almost snorted. Yeah right, like I'd ever give up my only source of income, even if I was thrown out of this place.

"I respect you, Anthony, and I know you only did what you did for the good of it," the manager seemed to have calmed down enough to talk with an inside voice. "But right now, I don't give a single damn about your good deeds on helping the homeless."

My eyebrow rose when he referred to us as homeless. Although, he couldn't have been more right.

It seemed Anthony had run out of arguments, and I'm not surprised. Why bother trying to fight for a cause he knew he was going to lose, and put his job at stake? I'm actually surprised he still had his job after what he did for us.

I heard the approaching steps from the back room too late, and by the time I had grabbed Celine's hand and turned around, the footsteps halted behind us. I stopped, turned around and faced the manager.

"This is them?" he didn't look away when asking the question, only looking at me with an expression of curiosity, disgust and leftover anger from the previous conversation.

On his right side stood Travis, and on the left side stood Anthony, looking at me with apologetic eyes.

The air in the bar turned quiet as nobody said anything. I didn't even bother to argue for my cause, much less apologize for what happened. I was getting kicked out anyway.

He took two steps toward me, looking me dead in the eye with the look of certainty. "You have one hour to pack your stuff and get the hell out of my bar."

He waited no more than four seconds before he stormed out. If it was because he expected me to answer back or just for a dramatic pause, I'll never know.

Sensing the awkwardness in the air, Travis quickly followed the manager, throwing me a remorseful look on his way out. I only stared ahead.

Taking a deep breath, I collected my nerves and gave Celine's small hand a squeeze.

"Cassie, I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd-" Anthony began, but I didn't have time for his apology.

"Hey, Celine. I'll need you to go to the storage room and pack our bags. Make sure you don't forget anything, ok?" My little sister nodded, jogging past Anthony in the doorway and into the back room of the bar.

I looked back up at the only person, other than Celine, I could actually consider calling a friend.

" I appreciate what you did for us, Anthony, both with the living arrangements and apartment searching. Thank you for all the help and support. I just hope you know that I won't stop coming here to fight in the ring, regardless of the consequences. For your sake, I'll be careful to hide better, but I'm not making promises."

He shook his head. "You do what you have to do, Roxy. I just hope you know that if you get caught hanging around this bar, I don't think I can risk helping you out."

I smiled knowingly and nodded to him. "I ask for no more."

His smile filled me with a strange kind of warmness. After everything that had happened in the past ten minutes, it was good to see such a kind and genuine smile. I pulled out the phone from my pocket and sighed. Dreading the question I knew I had to ask, but had hoped to avoid.

"So, what's Kingston's address?"

"Who?" Anthony looked at me questionably as he drew out his own phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

Oh right, that's his last name.

What was his first name again? I would probably have to learn my house host's name if I were to move in.

I pinch my eyes together. The thought of me stooping so low as to having to move into a fellow student's house made me want to punch myself.

"You know, the guy who offered his guest room for Celine and me to sleep in for the time being," I answer, not looking up from my phone as I wait for it to turn on.

Anthony chuckled. "You mean Julian?"

I nod. "Sure, that's the guy."

"Yeah, I agree, he's not important enough to remember the name of. My name, however..." As I look back up, my phone having finally logged on and decided to work, I see him looking back with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Ok. So the address?" I ask, deciding to ignore what he said. He narrows his eyes, giving me the 'really? ' expression, not expecting me to ignore his playful flirting. I shrug.

After Anthony wrote down Julian's address in my phone, and also added his phone number to my contact list (again), Celine returned with our two bags. Time to seek out Julian's house and hope the guest room offer still stands.

"See you on Monday?" Anthony asked as I took my bag and turned to leave. To my, and Anthony's, surprise, Celine turned and gave him a hug and whispered something that made him smile when he answered her. Thanking him much more sincerely than I did, that's for sure.

"Unless I drop dead on Sunday," I answer holding the door open for Celine to exit before walking out myself.

I smile to myself as his chuckle fades when I walk out the bar, the sound disappearing as the heavy door slams shut behind me.

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