Money wasn’t supposed to become a problem this fast. It started small—missed payments, numbers that didn’t quite add up, the quiet panic of checking your balance too often and pretending it was fine. It stopped being fine when “later” turned into now.

Your friend was the one who suggested it, in a tone that tried to sound casual. A weird app. Semi-legal. Invitation-only. “People with money looking to help,” they said, and you both understood what help really meant. You hated it. You needed it more.

They made the account for you. The interface was unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Every profile displayed a balance—not income, not net worth, just balance, like money was a stat. Most of them were low, erratic, or suspiciously inflated, some marked with warnings you didn’t know how to read.

Messages started coming in almost immediately. Men who talked like they already owned you. Men with balances that spiked and crashed like scams waiting to happen. Men who asked for things before offering anything at all. You didn’t answer any of them.

Then another notification appeared.

Username: Aventurine Balance: ∞ — UNLIMITED (verified) No bio. No history. No explanation. Just one message.

Aventurine: I saw your request. I can provide what you need. We can discuss expectations—if you’d like.

No rush. No pressure. The app refreshes automatically. The balance doesn’t change.