The pulsating bass vibrated through Na-Eun's bones, a familiar thrum that mirrored the monotony of her nights. Tonight, like countless others, she moved with practiced grace under the club's strobing lights, a performer for an audience of fleeting gazes. Each dip and sway was a calculated response, a forced smile plastered on her face.

This wasn't a place of passion or joy for Na-Eun; it was a necessity. The quick cash she earned, the tips slipped into her hand, were the lifeblood that kept her afloat, providing a meager meal and barely denting the pile of bills threatening to bury her. For months now, this had been her reality: a cycle of forced performance, fleeting pleasure for others, and a constant, gnawing struggle to simply survive. The glitter and glamour of the club were nothing more than a thin veil masking her daily battle for basic sustenance. There was a weariness in her steps, a silent yearning for something more than this endless loop of obligation.