3. Chapter 2
June walked toward her car, ready to call it a night. Halfway across the parking lot, a familiar smell brought back an old memory. It brought her back to the foster home she used to live in on Kensington and Allegheny.
The foster home always smelled like bleach, burnt grease, and baby powder.
No matter how many candles Miss Loretta lit before the social worker came over, that smell stayed trapped in the walls like it lived there too.
Six kids were crammed into one narrow rowhouse off Kensington and Allegheny, all under the care of a woman who knew how to work the system.
To everybody outside that house, Miss Loretta was a pillar of the community.
“A good ole Christian woman,” the neighbors would refer to her as.
A Godly woman raising orphan children out of the kindness of her heart.
The social workers ate it up every single time she sat on that couch serving instant coffee in chipped mugs while calling everybody “baby” and “sweetheart” like she really gave a fuck about them.
But the second that front door closed, her holier than thou act disappeared.
“June! Get yo little Chinese ass in here and wash these fucking dishes before I go upside yo damn head!”
June stopped in the hallway while Maury played loudly on the TV and the younger kids giggled like little hyenas.
June had spent four long years there cleaning up after everybody.
Four years of watching Miss Loretta collect checks while she played maid inside a house that never felt like home. Something in her finally snapped.
She approached Miss Loretta with water dripping from her hands.
“I’m Korean, you fuckin' laundry bag shaped bitch.”
The kids stopped laughing and Miss Loretta’s fake smile faded. “What the fuck you just say to me?”
June took a step closer challenging her. “You heard me.”
For a long second, the room went silent and all you could hear was the refrigerator rattling in the kitchen. Then Miss Loretta laughed and it made June’s skin crawl. “Bitch you better be glad I don’t put yo ungrateful ass back where I found you.”
June had no words for her at that point. She had already decided she was done being anyone’s doormat. Her actions were about to speak for her.
That night while everyone was sleeping, she packed her duffle bag. She had two pairs of jeans, three shirts, and her sneakers, nothing fancy. Then she crept to the hallway closet, where she had seen Miss Loretta stash her “rainy day” money.
Behind a loose panel in the closet covered by old clothes and towels sat stacks of cash bundled in rubber bands.
It was fat from foster checks being cashed, food stamps she sold, and whatever came from the little drug deals Miss Loretta made behind the back gate.
June’s eyes widened in surprise as she counted the money.
Twenty-five thousand dollars. That was enough for her to get the fuck away from this hell hole and start over.
By sunrise, she was gone.
She didn’t say goodbye to nobody. She didn’t look back either. In a few more days she’d be eighteen, legal, and her life would officially belong to her.
The Next Morning
Miss Loretta woke up late with her wig tilted and her mouth dry from drinking cheap liquor the night before.
When she went to the closet and saw the open panel, several cuss words came out of her mouth.
She tore through everything: the towels, the clothes, and the hidden envelope she thought nobody knew about.
Every dollar she had was gone.
“Yoon-Ji!” she screamed sounding hoarse. “You little dirty bitch! You gon’ pay for this shit!”
But Yoon-Ji was long gone.
She was out there somewhere with her duffle bag and a plan, turning someone else’s greed into her own escape.
And after everything she survived in that house, she stopped feeling bad about taking anything from anybody.
Two months later, Yoon-Ji was a person of the past. The money helped fund her transformation to become June.
The money paid for the BBL, the apartment, the clothes, the new name, and all the pieces she thought she needed to bury the girl from Kensington for good.
June was born from anger, survival, and twenty-five thousand dollars that was secretly hidden in a hallway closet.
She had built herself from the ground up, with the same hands that used to clean Miss Loretta’s dirty ass floors.
And for as long as she lived, she would never let another person break her and get away with it.
June sank into the plush couch of her apartment on 18th and Fairmount, kicking off her heels and feeling the cool breeze through the cracked-open window.
The faint smell of her takeout lingered in the room, but it didn’t bother her.
She fished her phone out of her bag and dialed up her girl Mercedes, grinning before the call even connected.
“Yo, bitch!” Mercedes answered on the second ring.
“Mercedes! Girl, I gotta thank you.” June stretched her legs out and flopped back. “Thanks for puttin’ me down wit Heaven’s Door, bitch.”
Mercedes laughed so hard she nearly dropped her own phone. “No problem. I knew you’d love it! Bitch, you walked in that club and the whole place knew somethin’ different was gon happen.”
“Girl, I ain’t even gon lie, I felt the energy the minute I hit the fucking stage. And Marcus? I ain’t even breathe in his direction yet and the mothafucka actin’ sprung already!” June chuckled, shaking her head as she imagined the club manager’s flustered expression.
“Ha! I saw that shit. His ass didn't even try to hide it either. I swear his ass needed a fucking bib the way he was droolin’ all over you.” Mercedes cackled.
June was laughing right along with her. “Bitch, I know! He gave me that look like he was gonna offer me the world right then and there, and I was just like, ‘Slow down, baby I ain’t even done doing my thing yet.”
Mercedes snorted. “Girl, you better watch his ass though. These niggas get cocky when they think they got somethin’. You gotta handle his ass right, you gotta keep him guessing.”
“I got this, boo. I been runnin’ my own show way before this club, you know that.” June rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing the throw pillow beside her. “But for real, thank you again. I needed this vibe. I needed a good laugh so I’m not up in here stressin’ over bills or people tryna play me.”
Mercedes’s voice softened just a little. “Anytime, boo. You deserve it. And I know you bout your paper and all, but promise me you’ll have some fun at Heaven’s Door, and don’t let nobody steal your shine.”
“Girl, I ain’t never been one to let a mothafucka steal my shine. And you know this.” June smiled and playfully stuck her tongue out. Tonight had been a good night, and she planned on leaving it at that.
They kee-kee'd a little longer, teasing each other about Marcus and the other club drama, and June found herself genuinely enjoying the moment.
After they hung up, June tossed her phone onto the couch. "That girl crazy as hell," she muttered as she laughed to herself. Mercedes was right for sure. Marcus was definitely gonna be trouble.
Mercedes laid in bed in her cramped studio apartment staring at the ceiling. The phone call had made her laugh, but the second it ended, Mercedes found herself thinking about the things she tried not to think about.
Marcus just so happened to be the person who came across her mind. She low-key hated that mothafucka. She owed him more than anybody realized, and it wasn't a debt she could easily repay.
A few years back, Mercedes had gotten caught up in some shit hanging with the wrong crowd.
A “friend” had convinced her to front a package for a small-time drug run, promising it was just a quick delivery and nothing serious.
But when the cops raided the spot, Mercedes got pinned as the one responsible.
She was 20 years old and she was looking at possible time behind bars for something she barely had anything to do with.
Marcus hadn’t just pulled strings to get her out of trouble.
He had pulled her into something much deeper; a web of favors, debts, and shadowed work that kept her alive but always walking on a tightrope.
He had connections she couldn’t even name out loud, and she got involved with people who did things you didn’t talk about and certainly didn’t mess with.
Her release from jail wasn’t a gift, it was a loan with invisible interest, and it was a reminder that Marcus’ world wasn’t a place you stepped into lightly.
She hated the fact that she owed him anything and she hated that her life had changed so suddenly under his shadow.
But she survived, and she played her part well.
Back then, Mercedes had been one of Heaven's Door's top earners before Allure came in and stole the spotlight.
Back when she danced, everybody knew her as Vanity.
Men came in ready to throw them dollars at her.
Eventually Marcus pulled her off the floor and promoted her to management as his assistant.
These days she handled schedules, interviews, recruitments, and whatever else his crazy ass needed.
At least the mean mothafucka did one thing right.
Now, with June stepping into Heaven’s Door, Mercedes couldn't help worrying about her. June had no idea how deep this world ran, she didn't realize how easy it was for someone like her to get caught up in something she couldn’t walk away from. Marcus wasn’t just a club owner, he was a man who thrived in shadows.
He was a man who could give and take with the same hand that he shook hands with, and June was walking right into his territory.
Mercedes drew a breath in and then exhaled slowly.
She loved June, loved her energy, loved the fire she carried, but she also knew the game.
She’d watch out for her quietly from the sidelines, keeping an eye on Marcus and making sure June didn’t get in over her head.
Even in a world surrounded by lights and music, Mercedes understood the darkness that followed close behind.
And she’d do everything she could to make sure June never got pulled into it.