Part 2The Comments Told Me To Be Noble, So I Told Them To Shut Up

I’d been working at the bar for days. Where was this rich idiot? Was this whole thing a prank by the voices in my head?

Just as I was grumbling to myself, someone yanked me into a private room.

Holy crap, it was my golden goose. His face was as red as a baboon’s ass, and he was panting like a bull. He started tearing at my clothes. Was the drug he’d been given that strong? My services were artistic, not physical! Was it too late to run?

I grabbed a fruit platter and smashed it over Landon’s head, knocking him to the floor. I made a break for it, but he grabbed my ankle, rubbing his head as he stared up at me.

“You?”

Landon felt the fire raging inside him. She was a greedy, money-grubbing woman, which made this perfect. He was glad it was her.

“$500,000. One night.”

Five hundred thousand? That was enough for a down payment on a small condo. Deal.

Damn, that hurt. This money wasn’t easy to earn. Wait. I crawled shakily toward my phone, but the bastard grabbed my waist and dragged me back.

“Don’t go.”

Help me! They always say to document your work. If I let this half-a-million-dollar deal slip away, who could I possibly complain to?

That night was a blur of sweat and tears.

When the drugs finally wore off and he passed out from exhaustion, I propped him up, recorded a quick video for insurance, and stumbled out of there, clutching my aching back.

“Payment received: $500,000.”

I’d been feverish and dazed, but the notification sound snapped me back to reality. Rich people really were different. A poor person like me would have just ghosted him.

I was scrolling through real estate listings when my mom called.

“Chloe, your father’s heart condition has flared up. He needs surgery. The doctors say it’ll be $300,000.”

My heart sank. Here we go again.

“Where’s my brother? Where the hell is he? Didn’t you two spend over a million on a house for him and his wife? Sell the house, then you’ll have the money.”

“We can’t do that, Chloe! That house is your brother’s whole life! If your father knew the money came from selling it, he’d rather die than have the surgery.”

[What a terrible heroine. She won’t even help her own father and is trying to take her brother’s house.]

It was always the same story. Ever since I started working, they’d used this line to guilt me out of my hard-earned money.

I hung up and stood by the window for a long time before finally transferring $200,000.

[I guess she has a conscience after all. A little cheap, though. She got $500,000 and only sent $200,000.]

The loss of my two hundred grand already stung, but hearing them call me cheap sent me over the edge. I ignored the shooting pain in my back and screamed at the air.

“You! You! How much do you make? I bet you don’t even have twenty grand in savings, and you have the nerve to call me cheap?”

“And you! Saying I have no conscience? I’ve given my family over a hundred thousand dollars over the years! Have you? I bet you haven’t even given them a grand. You’re just like my brother, a leech sucking them dry!”

“This was money I sold my body for! I kept myself pure for over twenty years, and now it’s gone!”

The fight went out of me, and I started to cry. The voices, which had been arguing back, quieted down. A few even tried to comfort me.

[Don’t cry. You may have lost your innocence, but you still have $400,000. Go look at some apartments to cheer yourself up.]

Right. I guess I’d just have to look for something cheaper.

After making the down payment on a tiny, run-down studio, I was broke again. No job, no savings. It was back to a diet of instant noodles and eggs.