MILK. // Matty Healy

2.

I felt uneasy, convinced I was going to be kidnapped, or worse, so I planted myself firmly in the doorway before attempting to jerk my wrist back from the firm grip. I looked up at the man who grabbed me and relaxed slightly, if I was going to get kidnapped maybe I wouldn't have minded if it was him. He was an average height with dark, curly hair that covered his forehead. He was slim and wore a buttoned, black shirt that exposed a tattoo on his chest. His eyes were dark, from what I could see behind the hair, with a just noticeable snaggletooth.

"Do you mind?" I snatched my wrist back,

"Sorry, just come in. My best friend lives down the hall, is all." He retracted his arm and stepped aside for me to come through, I hesitated entering a stranger's apartment but continued down his small hallway. There were shoes strewn on the floor by the door below a set of coat hooks, holding up one black trench coat and a denim jacket. He led me to the living room before leaning back into a grey settee, patting the space next to him inviting me to come sit with him. I sat next to him and pulled his bag out of my rucksack, being careful to shield the money I had collected through the night from him.

"I believe this is yours, Matt?" I handed him the bag, it was a 3.5 and a small bag of brown powder, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a wallet and a few notes for me.

"Cheers, this should be right. You can just call me Matty."

I placed the money into the rucksack and got up to leave before he spoke again,

"So, what are your rates?" He looked at me,

"What do you mean?" I furrowed my brows, bewildered.

"Fifty quid an hour or higher?"

"Oh, I'm not getting paid. I just owed Julian money." I said coolly,

"Oh," he looked at me, puzzled. "Well, I'd feel bad. If you've got an hour or thirty minutes now I'd still pay you."

"Wait, what?"

"Of course, it's bad enough that sex workers have no protection under this government."

"Let me stop you there, I'm not a prostitute. Why the fuck did you think that?" I asked, quite offended.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, I just thought because- well, you know."

"No, I don't know actually." I placed a judgemental hand on my waist.

"A gorgeous woman comes to give a loyal customer drugs, I don't know. I apologise."

I blushed slightly, "Uhh, thanks?" I said with a questioning tone. "Do you think that's what everyone else thought? I'm not exactly dressed that provocatively."

He shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, but not a lot are these days. Bobbies are massively onto it 'round here, people don't want to seem suspicious."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind. If you want to pay me for sex though, I do need the money." I quipped,

"Then you would be a prostitute," He laughed,

"I'd best be going now, you're my last one."

"At least Julian's isn't too long a drive from here."

"I'm walking but yeah, not too bad." I nodded in agreement,

"What? Let me drive you, come on." He leapt up from where he was sat and patted my shoulder to move me along.

"Oh, don't worry I don't mind the walk."

"Seriously, I'm driving you. It's late enough and Manchester is full of arsehole men. What's your name?" He bent down to pull his shoes on, lacing them up with haste.