Find an unfortunately soul

James Mitchell stared at the eviction notice taped to his mahogany door, his trembling hands clutching his phone displaying an email that had arrived just moments ago. The 14th-floor apartment's panoramic view of the city skyline - a view he had proudly shown off at dinner parties - now seemed to mock him with its grandeur.

"This has to be some kind of mistake," he muttered, his voice echoing in the empty hallway. The $4,000 Armani suit he wore, usually a source of confidence, now felt like it was suffocating him.

Three days ago, life had been perfect. The engagement party at the Ritz-Carlton had been everything Jessica wanted - premium champagne flowing, society photographers capturing every moment, and their combined network of friends and colleagues congratulating them on their upcoming nuptials. James remembered how Jessica's diamond ring - the one that cost him three months' salary - had sparkled under the chandeliers.

His phone buzzed again. Another email:

"Dear Mr. Mitchell, Following recent events, we regret to inform you that your position as Senior Investment Analyst at Goldman Stanley & Partners has been terminated, effective immediately. Please do not attempt to enter the premises..."

The words blurred as his vision swam. His legs gave way, and he slid down against the door, his $400 dress shoes squeaking against the polished marble floor. The building's hallway lights seemed too bright, too harsh, highlighting every bead of cold sweat forming on his forehead.

His phone rang. Jessica's face lit up the screen - the photo taken during their vacation in Bali last summer, her blonde hair catching the sunset, that perfect smile he'd fallen in love with.

"James," her voice was different now, lacking the warmth he'd grown accustomed to. "I saw the news. Everyone's talking about it."

"Jess, I can explain-"

"Explain what? How you managed to get yourself blacklisted from every major financial institution in the city? How you somehow offended Senator Williams's daughter at the charity gala? Do you even know what you did?"

James opened his mouth, but no words came out. He genuinely didn't know. The charity gala had been like any other - networking, small talk, the usual social dance of the corporate world. What had he said? What had he done?

"The ring," Jessica continued, her voice turning businesslike. "I'll have it courier'd to your office- oh wait, you don't have one anymore." A cold laugh. "Leave it with the doorman. And James? Don't call me again."

The line went dead.

Within a week, his credit cards stopped working. The apartment management company, citing some obscure clause in his lease agreement, gave him 48 hours to vacate. His bank accounts were frozen pending an investigation he knew nothing about. Even his regular coffee shop, where he'd been a loyal customer for five years, suddenly couldn't find his loyalty points in their system.

James watched as movers - hired by whom, he wasn't sure - efficiently packed up his life into boxes. Jessica's things had already disappeared, along with half of their shared belongings. He noticed she'd taken the rare vintage wine collection he'd spent years curating.

"Sign here," the building manager said, holding out a tablet. "And your keys."

James looked at his reflection in the lobby's mirror one last time. The same face, but somehow different. Defeated. Lost. The designer suit now looked rumpled, his carefully styled hair disheveled.

As days turned into weeks, James's appearance transformed. The expensive suit gave way to increasingly wrinkled clothes. His well-maintained stubble grew into an unkempt beard. The premium gym membership that had kept him in shape was, of course, cancelled, and meals became whatever he could afford from dollar menus.

He tried reaching out to friends, but phones went unanswered. LinkedIn connections disappeared overnight. Even his parents' number was suddenly "not in service" - though he suspected they were just screening his calls, embarrassed by whatever scandal he'd supposedly caused.

One month after the fall, James sat on a bench in Central Park, his worldly possessions reduced to a backpack containing two changes of clothes and a nearly maxed-out prepaid phone. The October wind bit through his thin jacket - not the cashmere one he used to own, but a secondhand purchase from Goodwill.

A couple walked past, the woman's diamond ring catching the sunlight. James's throat tightened as he remembered Jessica's instagram post from yesterday: "Sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs... So happy to announce my engagement to Bradley Williams!