જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 ‟ Hoe we just fucking, I don't date fans. "
𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃, 𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪'𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙. The sex must be good enough for you to hook him up for half price...
YOU'RE LATE, AND HE MADE SURE YOU KNEW IT. You were supposed to be here, at this party of Satoru's, before anyone else arrived. It's something he always expects from you, even though you show up late every time he throws one of his little parties. After all, who would want to show up to a party full of all kinds of different snobby celebrities early? Especially when he would make you save your little powders until other people arrived, something about 'don't use all of it.'
Though, the payments you get from these kind of parties is something you couldn't ever pass up on. Rich celebrities all pay top dollar for some shit they don't need, and if you get them addicted to it, they'll keep coming back for more. You know it's wrong, to hope they would get a taste and become addicted to what you were providing - but the bills don't pay themselves these days.
"You're late, again," Satoru says to you with the slightest hint of disapproval. His arms are folded over his chest and his eyes are narrowed, of course he's annoyed with you. You're late, later than normal by your standards - over two hours late. Then again, Satoru's never been a priority in your life. Sure, you enjoy his music from time to time and his dick, but he never comes above money.
"Had a client," You roll your eyes as you make your way past him and immediately you're wishing you hadn't come this time. It's a larger party than what Satoru normally throws, and while you recognize a handful of these faces, there's so many new ones that you couldn't help but get overwhelmed. The music, mostly a mix of Satoru's songs and a few of his friends', is blasting in the abandoned warehouse, one that Satoru had spruced up so he could always throw his "special parties" here; where no one would call the cops or anything of that nature.
You could see all the booze that's been laid out for everyone to drink on, which works well for you. After all, who would notice if the dealer is late when they're beyond drunk? You could even see a few girls stumbling, nearly tripping over thin air, from how drunk they were. But the bottles never stopped.
