help is a four letter word dasom never learned.
growing up in the roughest part of town, help was something that was never given, never offered. so she learned to get by without it and only relied on herself; it's how she knows everything she has is rightfully hers. she worked for it, fought and clawed her way to the top the only way she knew how.
she ran her business like a tight ship and expected nothing short of professionalism from the girls. (not her girls, never, it's only a job and they're all their own people. it's the one thing she made sure to constantly get across to them.) in turn the girls didn't expect much from her. knowing what they knew about this life, they knew better than to think they could make demands about anything.
so she gave them everything because she knew fear could only spawn so much loyalty.
but the day bora walked through her doors looking prim and proper and so very out of place, she knew, she knew that it could only mean trouble for everything she built. even back then she knew it would be bora, bora who would bring nothing but chaos.
"welcome to the red light district."