Work Hard, Play Hard

One. Alone

"You can't control my life, Mom!" I yelled as I stomped up the stairs to pack my stuff.

"I just want what's best for you Carolyn, and a makeup artist isn't it!" My mom yelled back.

"Fine! Then I'll leave!" I shouted as I grabbed my stuff and ran towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" My mom asked.

"New York, New York University." I replied as I looked her straight in the eyes.

"That's far away. How are you gonna get from Connecticut to New York by yourself?" She asked as tears formed in her eyes.

"Oh I don't know. Train, bus..." I said sarcastically as I rolled my eyes. "If this conversation is done, I need to go." I said as I faced the door.

"Okay...go." My mom said as she began to cry. I opened the door and walked out. I didn't know exactly how I was going to get to New York, but I had $400 and that had to get me there.

That was two years ago, I was nineteen. Now I am twenty one. My full name is Carolyn Jane Carlson. I go by Callie though. When I got to New York, I didn't have a place to stay and I didn't have enough money left to stay at a hotel. I went to a Starbucks nearby and bought a tea and a sandwich. Then I snuck into a store and slept behind a clothing rack for the night. The owner didn't see me and I left the next morning as soon as she came to open her store again.

I knew I couldn't continue to do this as I eventually would get caught. I needed to find a way to make money and fast. I couldn't get a day job because I had to attend university. That's when I found out about sugar daddies. It was perfect. During the day I could go to school and at night I would go on dates with old men. The sugar daddy industry is very stigmatized. Outsiders believe that because you have a sugar daddy or multiple sugar daddies, that makes you a slut or a hoe. That isn't true at all. It's called a hustle. I didn't do it to be nasty, I did it to make money and I get what I wanted in life. I actually had many friends at NYU who also had sugar daddies. Some were into prostitution, but I wasn't going that low. I still had my class, my pride and dignity.

My first date with a sugar daddy was easy. All I had to do was get all dolled up and meet him at a restaurant. He was a nice man. His name was Larry and he couldn't stop complimenting my appearance. We had dinner, then he asked if he could take me back to his hotel. Obviously, I refused. I took my money and left. In one night, I went on two dates and made $800. These old men were filthy rich. I charged $400 per date and some even offered me more, which I accepted because a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Everything was good and within two months, I got an apartment in NY and a car. My mom called often and was happy that I was doing well. Clearly, I didn't tell her why or how I got the money that I made, but what she didn't know couldn't hurt her. Every time she offered to come visit me, I refused and told her I had to study and couldn't cater to guests. This was a lie. Before, I found it hard to lie to my parents, but then they got divorced and I could get away with more. While I was in NY, I became heartless and cold and things did not affect me. I had to become like that in order to do the things I was doing because the real me wouldn't do that.