‘I no its short notice, but ne chance I can c u today?’
I rolled my eyes at the screen in annoyance. It was five o’clock, I was in my sweat pants lounging on the couch with my sketchpad and the last thing I wanted to do was to leave my apartment, let alone use the energy I would need to do the job. Regina was one of my favourite clients; she rarely pulled stunts like this, and I was pretty sure she’d pay me handsomely for it. She was one of the younger women I gave my services to; I doubted she was older than me. If she was, she certainly didn’t look it. I felt sorry for her; I got the impression the marriage hadn’t been her idea. Her mother was a control freak, apparently, who pressured her daughter into securing a rich husband that would take care of her daughter, and by extension, herself. Regina’s husband must have unexpectedly gone away somewhere, hence the text message that so delightfully lit up my screen. I really wanted to say no. My thumb hovered over the ‘n’ button, begging me to make up some excuse so I could remain at home. Every fibre of my being screamed for me to be left alone in my own company, and I hated arguing with myself. Bills had to be paid, though, and art equipment had to be bought. In the end, I texted Regina back with great reluctance, agreeing to go over to her place at six. It should have given me enough time to shower and make myself presentable enough for the outside world. I groaned at the thought of moving, cursing Regina for not texting me earlier, before I was in full energy conservation mode. It was a pain the ass, to be honest, but I had nothing else to do, so I had no reason to complain either. I took a look at the sketch on my lap, taking the picture in for the first time since I mindlessly started doodling an hour ago. My eyes widened in surprise when I saw the outline of a familiar female face.
I hated to admit it, but I couldn’t shake the guilt I felt over Chloe. The look on her face when she found out the truth had hurt me, in more ways than one. It wasn’t that I cared about her; it was the fact that she looked down on me for having an unconventional way of paying the bills. It reminded me of the reason why I had to hide what I did from the world. I was a consenting adult, who got paid to have consensual sex with legal adults. It’s one of the oldest professions in the world, and yet people would rather have shit on the bottom of their shoes than be associated with a prostitute. Sure, some people were trafficked and taken advantage of, but I wasn’t one of those people. I had made a conscience, fully informed decision before I went down the path I was currently on. I had college bills to pay, I needed to buy food, and pay for a roof over my head. I wanted to be able to afford the basic necessities in life. So yes, I made the choice to sell a part of myself to women who could afford it. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I was good in bed; it was one of those things that clicked with me. I had learnt a lot from my first girlfriend, who had been far more experienced than I had been. She had taught me the basics, and encouraged me to be confident in what I was doing. She showed me how to pay attention to the way a person reacts to your touch; if they want more, or if it’s too much. She had been an amazing teacher, and even though I had been on the chubby side, she never made me feel self-conscious about my body. I was lucky to be ‘well equipped’, and I decided to use that to my advantage. I wasn’t hurting anybody, and it was as good a way to earn money as anything else. It took up very little of my time, it wasn’t too much effort, and it afforded me a lifestyle that many would love.
And yes, I’d admit that it had pissed me off when I saw Chloe’s reaction to the fact I was a 'whore'. Deep down, I realised that it was the way any woman would look at me once they found out the truth about what I did for a living. I wasn’t looking for love, necessarily; I was quite happy to be single, but her words reinforced that harsh reality of my situation. It didn’t matter if I fell in love, or if someone fell in love with me, for that matter. Nobody would accept what I did for a living. Monogamy was one of the basic expectations in an exclusive relationship, and something that I couldn’t give. That had never bothered me before; relationships were the furthest thing from my mind. Yet, for some reason, Chloe was the one who made it click in my head that the life I was leading would lead to nothing but loneliness. My college debts had been cleared a year ago, which was the main reason I had started prostitution in the first place. I had money saved, probably enough to pay maybe a few months' rent, if I downsized on my apartment. The problem was that it was too easy to stay in this line of work. It was something that suited me to the ground; I had a lot of downtime to draw any idea that came to mind. I could afford the best equipment, even if I wasn’t using it to further my artistic career. I had no real reason to continue this way, other than it was a hassle to try something else. Regular office hours, sitting in a small stuffy office behind an even smaller desk drawing shit I didn’t like, and constant deadlines over my head sounded worse than death. It was stifling, creatively and professionally. To work in such a rigid, uncreative environment that didn’t allow for individuality to shine through went against everything I stood for. Maybe I could have gotten over it if there had been the slightest bit of room for originality and uniqueness to peek through even just a little bit in a work environment, but those jobs were few and far between, even in the illustration industry. The dream of pitching my own comic was dead and buried long ago. Those were the aspirations of a younger man, who wasn’t so downtrodden and beaten by the real world, that chewed you up and spat you back out, without so much as a please or thank you. Reality was cruel and harsh, something I had come to realise years ago.
I let out a heavy sigh, part of me wondering when exactly the time would come for me to finally do something more with my life. I wasn’t stupid or naïve enough to think that I could do this forever. I was twenty eight years old now, but someday I was going to grow old and unable to keep up the work. In the back of my mind, there was a nagging feeling that maybe I could try breaking into the comic industry again. I had enough material to pitch one of my ideas, and being that bit older might get me taken more seriously. The boyish hopes and dreams I had held all those years ago were still there, dormant and forgotten under layers of cynicism and pessimism. It just seemed like an impossible dream, though; one that might crush me if I couldn’t succeed. The only thing scarier was the fear of being a middle aged man, stacking shelves in a supermarket, because I couldn’t get a job anywhere else. That future was a real possibility, and whenever it occurred to me, it scared me shitless. I was coming closer to a crossroad, where I would have to decide exactly what it was that I was going to do. There were no easy options, and every single one of them would take time and effort that I didn’t want to waste. Now wasn’t the time to think about it, though. I put my sketchpad aside and dragged my lazy ass into the shower¸ washing away the uncomfortable thoughts before they distracted me. An hour later, I was entering Regina’s home.
“Hey, Gerard! Thanks for coming on such short notice.There was some lastminute meeting George needed to attend in California.”
“Anything for my favourite client,” I gave her my signature smile, loving the little blush that rose on her cheeks.
Regina was beautiful. Her blonde hair was long and perfectly styled, her blue eyes were large and bright, and her soft skin was naturally flawless. She was thin, though, painfully thin, and I was pretty certain she starved herself half the time. She had so little control of her life, but her appearance was one thing she could control to her heart’s content. I wanted to tell her to eat more, but it wasn’t my place, so I kept my mouth shut. Her personal life, and her unhappiness, was not my problem. Not that I didn’t care, because, surprisingly, I did, but I just wasn’t in any sort of position to give my opinion, or voice my concern. I was only here to provide a service. She made a little small talk on the way to the bedroom, clearly raring to go. She stripped me of my shirt the second we stepped foot in the room, and I was swiftly pushed onto the bed and straddled by Regina. Her kisses were rough, full of lust and pure want. Her hips grinded against mine, giving me the needed friction to get it up. She started kissing my neck, her teeth nipping at the skin lightly, when Chloe popped into my mind, unbidden and unwanted. I couldn’t help but remember how different it had been. She had been so undemanding, so eager without dominating. She was the complete opposite of nearly every woman I’d been with, and my brain didn’t want me to forget it. The only thing was that, right now, was not the time to be thinking about her, and how good it felt to be in total control. I clenched my eyes shut, willing the thought of her to disappear before my hard on did. Regina’s hands ran over my torso while her grinding becoming more vigorous. Without warning, I gripped her hips and flipped her onto the bed on her back. She looked bewildered for all of two seconds, before she smiled and giggled. I quicklyretrieved a condom from my jeans, before I tugged them off with my boxers, and discarded them on the floor. Regina pulled off her dress while I rolled the condom on, and I smirked when I saw she hadn’t been wearing any panties under it. Something came over me, and the usual submissive façade vanished. I was inside her within seconds, and her answering moan of pleasure was enough to drive me on.
**********************************************************************
I was completely distracted as I walked down the street, a little disturbed by the sudden lack of control I’d displayed at Regina’s. While she had been more than pleased with my performance, and in fact she paid me more than usual, I wasn’t impressed with myself. I was always in control of my own actions, and I never let my own desire take over like that. It was a once off mistake, one that I would never allow myself to repeat again. I didn’t do the job for my pleasure. My pleasure was an occasional end product, and letting my dick rule the situation was a dangerous road to go down. I needed to remain focused on the client. I decided to grab a cup of coffee, hoping it would calm my nerves a little.
The coffee shop was quiet, with only a few people sitting in, and one person in the queue in front of me. I wasn’t paying much attention, or at least, not until a familiar shade of auburn hair came into view at the top of the queue. I did a double take, certain that I was seeing things, but it was indeed Chloe. She was wearing a navy business suit, which hid her amazing curves from view. Her hair was in a low ponytail, which, I had to admit, I disliked right away. Her hair, with its unusual colour, was made to be loose and free. It was a shame to see it constricted. Her back was turned to me, so I assumed she hadn’t noticed me yet. I could only imagine her reaction when she did. I could just see her chucking her scalding coffee at me, her head held high, and that snide smirk of hers on her face; the one she gave me when she was insulting me back in the club. No doubt there’d be some more insults thrown, or maybe she’d be happy with a glare and public humiliation. For a split second, I wondered if I should leave before she saw me, but I quickly dismissed it. I had no reason to run away; I did nothing wrong, and I wasn’t going to let a misunderstanding keep me from getting my much needed coffee. She was dismissed to the side counter to wait for her coffee. I approached the counter, and made my order. Before I even finished, I could feel her eyes on me, and the heat from the glare she was aiming at me.
I finally looked at her, and I was surprised to see how upset she was. I expected anger, maybe embarrassment, but not hurt. I even swore there were tears in her eyes, but I couldn’t be certain when she kept them fixed on the counter. I wasn’t sure how to respond; should I talk to her, or leave her be? The idea of not saying anything didn’t sit comfortably with me, for a reason I couldn’t explain. I felt a need to apologise or something, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong. It was a one night stand, and there were no promises of anything more. Also, she was the one who kicked me out without as much as a goodbye. I decided to bite the bullet, and see how the situation would pan out. It could have either gone better than expected, or it could have been as humiliating as I had anticipated. I stood beside her, curious to see if she’d make the first move. She was rigid, and refusing to acknowledge my proximity. I stood close by, just to be an asshole, because if I was being honest, I wanted to push her into a reaction of some kind, good or bad. And, yeah, okay, I wanted to see if she smelled like I remembered (which, yes, she did).
“I don’t even get a 'hello'?”
“No, but you can get a 'fuck off', if you’d like.”
Her voice was sickly sweet in contrast to her words, but the spite was more than clear. The chuckle escaped me before I realised what I was doing. It worked, though, and the glare she gave me earlier was nothing compared to the deep loathing being sent in my direction.
“You’ve got a right mouth on ya, don’t ya?” I asked.
“What the fuck is your problem?” She hissed, a little louder than necessary which resulted in a few stares sent in our direction. She flushed in embarrassment, and turned away from me. Our coffees were set down in front of us by an uncomfortable barista, who could sense the tension.
“I don’t think I’m the one with the problem.”
“Of course not. It was just another job for you, wasn’t it? ”
It clicked then in my mind, the reason why she was so hurt. She was still under the impression that I’d been paid for sleeping with her. Surely her friends would have told her the truth, wouldn’t they? She picked up her coffee with lightening speed, eager to get away from me. I wasn’t going to let her go that easily, at least not if she was under a false impression. I let her leave first, deciding that it was best to take it outside. I followed her out, and quickly walked in step with her.
“You know it wasn’t a job, right? There was no money involved.”
It was funny to watch her step falter, shocked at my revelation. Her eyes were watching me suspiciously, clearly not willing to take my words at face value.
“Did Andrea put you up to this?” She questioned.
“Andrea approached me, yes. She offered to pay me, but I turned it down.”
“Why should I believe that?”
“Why would I lie? Look, it doesn’t matter to me what you believe. But obviously it bothers you, for whatever reason. Even if I was paid, so what? What difference would it make? You had a good time, and so did I. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why you got so upset.”
“Do you know what it’s like to not be seen? To not be noticed? Well, I do. I’m one of those girls that fade into the background everywhere I go. I don’t normally mind, because I’m not looking for a relationship, and frankly I’m happy to be single and unseen. But that doesn’t mean I’m fucking immune to the fact that I’m not worthy to be seen. So, yes, of course it fucking hurts to think that the first time a guy shows interest in me, he’s been fucking paid to fuck me. Of course, Andrea doesn’t think about that. She just saw a problem, and went a really shitty way about trying to fix it. I know it’s not your fault, you got offered a job, you took it. But if this is Andrea’s way of getting me to talk to her again, tell her to drop it.”
She looked so broken, standing there spilling her guts, and I felt this weird flip in my stomach. It was uncomfortable to watch, and, oddly, I wanted to comfort her in some way.
“Look, I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t get paid. I was more than happy to go with you. Can I give you a bit of advice? You’re gonna stay in the background if you don’t put yourself out there. You’re a pretty girl, you’re funny when you’re not biting someone’s head off, and you’ve got an awesome taste in movies, but nobody will see any of that if you hide behind a scowl the second someone approaches you. Open yourself up a bit more.”
Her expression remained guarded during my spiel, but I could tell that what I’d said had an effect on her. Her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t respond. She just stared at the ground, probably dying to escape. Something was telling me to reach out, probably the same part of me that made me sketch her. I let out a little sigh and dug out my wallet before pulling a card out.
“You’re a nice girl, Chloe. And, if the circumstances were different, I really think we could be friends, at the very least. Here’s my number, if you ever just…I dunno, want to grab a coffee or something, give me a call.”
I handed her the card, which she tookwith a shaking hand. I gave her a quick nod, before I decided to leave her before she started to cry. The ball was in her court now.

Notes

Hey Guys,

Another update for you guys, 'cos you're awesome.

Lyra