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Chapter Five
Blair
Ipassed out so hard last night.
I wake up with a dry mouth and banging headache, spread naked across my crumpled bedding. Groaning, I flip over onto my back. Luckily, the new blackout curtains I installed are shut, keeping out the sunlight. I manage to drink some water from the bedside table and take some pain relief before slipping back to sleep. I hear voices later, but I’m half asleep and I dismiss them when they quieten.
When I finally wake up again, I reach over and check my phone to see it’s late afternoon. My headache is gone, but I feel sticky and dirty, covered in dry sweat and crusty neon paint. I reply to Faye’s angry message, apologising for not texting her when I got home, before getting up.
I make the bed and open the curtains with a wince, the bright sunlight piercing my aching head. Then I make my way to the bathroom and take a bath, washing my hair to get the paint out and scrubbing my pussy after last night. After I get out, I play my music through the mirror Money Bags installed as I wash my face and brush my teeth. I won’t do my makeup and hair until later, though, because I’m working tonight. Instead, I slip on a silky cami and shorts set before turning off the music and opening my bedroom door.
I remember seeing the cars last night, but the bedroom doors are shut and the floor we live on is silent. Are they sleeping? Or have they left already?
Who cares?
The good thing about them not being here most of the summer is that I got to know the layout. Food is delivered every week—I never see it, but the fridge and cupboards are always full, and once I mentioned I needed some stronger coffee and energy drinks, they appeared the next day.
I pad into the living/kitchen area, but it’s empty too. There are pots in the sink, and some keys are gone from the side, so I’m assuming they have gone out. Works for me, no awkward introduction.Oh yes, I’m the daughter of the woman shagging your dad and trying to get his money, nice to meet you.
I flick on the coffee machine and wait for it to dispense the golden goodness that will make me less of a zombie. Even though I know it will scald my mouth, I down it and then pour another before grabbing some breakfast biscuits and heading back to my room. Placing the coffee on my bedside table, I sit back in my bed and munch on the oat biscuits as I scroll through my notifications. I reply to Lexi and Allegra in the group chat and text with Faye for a bit. We aren’t going out tonight, but I promise to come to the diner earlier and have tea while she works.
I ignore the messages from old hook-ups and the message requests from men who have found me after seeing me perform. Pervs and assholes, all of them. None worth fucking. It usually tends to be older men who have the nerve to reach out, some even just send cock pictures without anything else—an angry-looking hard cock, and usually not very impressive either. What a greeting.
I started a game. Instead of getting annoyed, I rate the dick pics and send them back. I open one now and laugh, sending it to the group chat before I flip back onto the message and type a response to the man. I can see his profile picture; he has his kid and wife there.
Nice. Real class act.
3/10.
Weird bend and colour. Not good girth or length, wouldn’t even hit any of the good spots. Too hairy, not good for sucking. Not sure how you got your wife, but I wouldn’t push your luck, buddy. She probably has to fake it as it is.
Would not recommend.
He reads it and instantly blocks me. I open another, and it starts off with lovely worship type messages, but because I haven’t responded, it turns violent. He tells me he is going to kill me and shag my corpse. Wow, okay. I do a bit of research before sending my reply. People are so hard behind screens, but when you take it further, they panic, and it’s fun to see. I’ve had to do this a few times already.
Full name: Mitchy Smith.
Email:[emailprotected](really bro?)
Age: 18
School: All Boys Catholic.
Year: Sixth-form.
Address: 4 Crescent Way.
I have forwarded your messages to your mother, your school, and the police. Have a nice life :)
He starts to panic immediately, backtracking to try and apologise, but I ignore him and block him after actually sending the screenshots. You can never be too careful, especially after what happened... well, yeah, I take certain precautions. After nursing my coffee and watching the news, I decide to hit the gym. We have to stay in shape as dancers, and I do enjoy working out. Luckily, Money Bags has one here, so I get dressed in some stretchy shorts and a loose top before losing myself in the burn for a few hours.
Later, after I shower and shave again, I put some sparkly lotion on my skin. When the lights hit it, it makes my body glow. I cream my hair and curl it before starting on my face. I do a toned-down look for the diner, with some winged liner, contouring, and highlighter, but just a nude lip. I even slip on some jeans, black with hints of grey with huge rips down the front. I don’t bother with a bra, slipping on a white crop top that has ‘bite me’ written across it. I put on my biker boots and always present leather jacket before packing my bag for tonight.
I tidy my room, grab my keys and phone, and rush downstairs to my car, not wanting to be late because Faye will murder me. The drive doesn’t take me long, and after parking, I let myself into the diner. It’s busy-ish, with a few tables full, but the counter is empty, so I put my bag and coat down and smack the bell with a grin. I smash my hand on it again and again.
Rey pops his head through the kitchen hole and grins at me with his perfectly straight, white teeth, his one gold tooth glimmering in the light. His head is shaved, and he has a spider tattoo around it. Rey’s a big bulky bastard, an ex-con, but he’s nice to me and cooks the best bloody omelette in town. “Hey, dancer, what do you fancy?”
“Something meaty and greasy,” I tell him.
