Teen Prostitute 101

Chapter 9

"I, I have to go" I stammered
" There's something I-I, I forgot. I'll be here again someday" And with that less that cliche goodbye, I caught a cab to my apartment.

I dialled his number into my cell. It rung 7 times before he picked up,
" Hello?"
"Yeah, hey, there's something of mine that belongs to you."
"What is tha- hey, chicka, I remember you...Jameson Building. It's in the business district. 45 minutes.
Don't. Be. Late." And with that he hung up. I looked on Google maps for his building. It was 50 minutes away.
Don't. Be. Late

I ran outside and hailed the first cab that I saw. I handed him $100 and told him if he got me there before the time I was told he could have another $40.

"So...you out tonight?" He asked. He wasn't from NY, or even America for the matter. I think he was Mexican.
"Sort of. It's...complicated" I mumbled. I was fighting back the tears.
THIS ISNT HOW MY LIFE SHOULD BE!
It is, Ell, and you did this. Now go and give him what he paid for and stop being such a pussy.
I AM A PUSSSY THOUGH YOU MORON THIS ISNT FAIR ELL WHY ARE YOU BEING SUCH A BITCH!
Okay, conscience, cool. But I am your brain and I'm telling you to shut up.

I realised how ridiculous I must have seemed for having a mental argument. I slapped my thigh to signal the end of my mental argument.
But maybe i should argue. Maybe my heart is right and I should get out of this cab right now and I shou-
"We're here, hon. 39 minutes. That'll be an extra $40." He smiled.

I handed him 50 and looked up at the big building. It had curved topiary bushes either side of the golden double doors, manned by a doorman with a little black hat on. There was a red carpet leading to the door, and spotlights either side.

"Hey, I'm looking for a, uh-" I realised I didn't know his name.
"A man. Tall, brown hair, probably pretty rich. He said he lived here."

He raised an eyebrow at me.
"Mr. Jameson? Well, welcome to his building!" I looked up at the door plaque.

Jameson Building