Author: Serene Dysphoria PM
Stories centering on seven individuals- Anna, the executive and prostiture. Andrew, the contractor and heroin addict. Sidra, the doctor and anorexic. Audrey and Aubrey, the twins and depressed. Noah, the artist and schizophrenic. Michelle, the therapist and self-injurer- all who have lost sight of who they are while grappling with their own pain. Rated M for mature themes.Rated: Fiction M - English - Drama/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 3 - Words: 2,376 - Reviews: 2 - Updated: 07-29-12 - Published: 06-25-12 - id: 3035950
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
She felt his breath on her back. He was holding her, asleep. Dreaming. It was what he had paid her for. Three hundred dollars for the night, just to hold her. They both had something they wanted- she had her money, he had her companionship for the night. She put her hand on his and thought.
Only 5 years ago she had graduated from college with honors. She was an advertising executive at a top marketing firm in the city. She was popular. Well-liked. Beautiful. But she was broken.
That's probably why late at night, she dressed in her lingerie and walked the dark alleys, selling her love to anyone...for the right price.
But tonight was different. She didn't dress in her lingerie or stalk the alleys. As a matter of fact, she had no intention to sell herself tonight. She went with some friends to the bar for a few drinks after work when she saw him.
He sat next to her on the empty bar stool.
"Bourbon and one of whatever the lady's drinking," he said to the bartender. She smiled at him.
"That's sweet, Mr...?"
"No names, if you don't mind," he said, handing her the drink and taking his.
"I've seen you around. Not here, but in the alleys late at night. You seem to have things going pretty well for you. Why do you...well, do that, if you don't mind me asking?" he questioned, steel grey eyes locked against blue.
"You're the first person to ever ask me that," she said.
"Sometimes strangers can ask the hard questions and get a straight answer." She sighed and stared at the swirls in her drink.
"Everyone says I've got it all- a wonderful life. An Ivy League education. A great job. Friends. A good apartment in a safe area. Sounds like it, huh?"
"Well, I don't. I don't have happiness. My life is monotony. I don't have love..." she said, wiping away a tear.
"So you feel alone?"
"Selling yourself to strangers for the night takes away the pain?"
"For a while. Then it comes back. Heh. I'm an emotional cutter I suppose."
"You have to love yourself before having anyone else love you."
"No one's ever showed me love or intimacy- aside from sex."
The man pulled out his wallet and paid for the drinks.
"How much do you charge a night?"
"I see. Would you like to come over my place for a while?"
She sighed. Figures. He'd be like all the others.
He drove and she counted the raindrops on the window. She was surprised when he pulled up to the building across the street from hers. They walked to the elevators and waited. When they reached his apartment, she sat on the couch.
"Money first, then whatever you want to do, within reason."
He pulled out his wallet and handed her $300 in large bills.
"Big spender, huh?" she asked as she put the money in the purse.
"Follow me, please," he said, giving her his hand. She took it.
Now, almost 5 hours later, here they were. He had not wanted to sleep with her- he wanted to hold her.
"You don't have to sleep with someone to feel love. Or wanted. Sometimes holding another can do the trick," he said to her.
He was right. He had spent the night holding her. Stroking her hair and rubbing her shoulders. The concern and gentleness he had shown to her throughout the night had almost made her want to weep out of joy. She was worth something. She did mean something.
At 8:00, she decided it was time to go. She rolled out of bed softly and saw her purse on the floor. She took out the money he had given her and placed it on the nightstand. She found a blank sheet of paper and wrote three words.
She looked at his sleeping figure and brushed back some stray hairs and kissed his forehead.
When she went to work, she noticed as she was going home it was night. But she didn't dress in her lingerie.
She never would again.