Polaroids

9|Luna

"We are sharing a bed?" I look over at Julian, the disgust plastered on my face like my skin color. "I think you want people to ask questions."

He huffs and ruffles his curls around. "Nobody comes in here but people who stay on this bus. And everybody on this bus knows what our deal is. If you have any other objections you can sleep with JJ and Amiah, but I promise you won't be as comfortable."

I stare at him then back down at the bed almost perfectly tucked between the walls of the bus. "Fine. But no cuddling...and I need the fan on at night."

"Cuddling wasn't an option in the first place and I don't care what else you do, as long as we fuck before you do it."

I roll my eyes as he disappears over my shoulder and to the front of the bus. I take a deep breath and fall forward onto the thick blanket, my face immediately smothered with the scent of pine and spearmint. I inhale deeply and let the scent flow through my chest and burn in my belly.

It smells like his hair. Full of pine.

"I don't think you're off the clock yet, Miss. Marlow."

My eyes shoot open before my eyelids fall back and settle lowly. "I was just taking a break. You know, resting." I sigh as I flip over and sit up to face Andrew.

He is dressed plainly now, his hair still slicked back and his shoes still look fit for a business meeting, but he's wearing a plain white shirt and well-fitting loose jeans.

"Nice jeans."

He noticeably pauses, his eyes flickering below their original level as he was trying to see what I was referring to, as if he wasn't the one that picked them out and put them on. "Thank you. They're my father's."

I nod, "where is he? He's not a part of your family circus?"

He scoffs, something of a smile snaking across his lips. "He's not a big part of our lives, Miss Marlow. But I promise that doesn't concern you or your duties."

I hum as I stand up and take the only step toward him required before we were too close. His arms cross over his chest as he looks down at me and I look at the barely noticeable creases on his chest.

"What if his daddy issues causes him to not perform in bed? Then what? How am I supposed to get my picture and my story? That affects my paycheck, right?"

"Well—"

"Andrew, Julian wants you to confirm some things about the Miami location."

Both of our attention is directed toward the crew member in all black with a headset on and a deep grey beard. He was probably old enough to be their father.

I wonder if it's odd being in a position lower than people younger than you. I mean, I'm not judging, I'm almost cousins with a prostitute right now.

"Well, looks like our conversation is cut short." He doesn't even try to fake a pleasant smile before turning and following the man off the bus, leaving me and this bed alone once again.

I glance around, the space not small enough for a panic attack to set in but not large enough to even charge the rent of my first apartment in New York.

My phone dings in my pocket and I remember how annoyed I am with the sound of notifications as I pull it from my pants. The notifications line up across my screen as it's unlocked by my face and I can see all of the new comments and views from my account.

My twitter following has even gone up by twenty thousand and I was stuck at four for six months.

"Who knew all I needed was a tatted white boy..."