Swipe Right - The Chronicles of an Unpaid Prostitute

Swipe Right - Chapter One

I was empty. Everything about me was empty. Even the orgasm I'd just faked had been empty. I looked to my left at a nightstand that didn't belong to me and there it sat, empty. How did I get here? When had I become this person?

***

Stepping off the subway, I pulled my jacket tighter around myself to stave off the unnatural brisk chill of the early autumn air. Rolling my eyes at the man who shoved me out of his way I shouted after him, "Excuse you!" He didn't bother with a reply. "Asshole," I muttered as I fought my way out into the street to catch the next cab. Standing on the curb with my hand out waving aimlessly at the yellow cars driving past, I felt the first drop of rain splash against my forehead. As the taxi pulled up I heard the familiar text alert, the catchy cliché love song that signalled the dreamy sigh as I stared at the name of the sender of said text message while getting into the back of the car. Quickly telling the driver my address, I opened the message and felt all of the breath get sucked out of my lungs. Blinking, I re-read the short and succinct sentence.

'Maddie, I can't do this anymore. It's just not working – it's over.'

Really? Because the blow job I gave you last night didn't feel like anything was over, apart from my lack of interest. Fucking asshole – five years ended over a text message? No sir. Not with this girl. Dialling his number with added force, which on a touch screen didn't have the same effect as one would hope, I put the phone to my ear and listened to it ring. "Hello?" Was this bastard drunk? His slurred words and lack of apprehension proved all signs pointed to yes.

"What the hell is this text message you just sent me?"

"Maddie?"

Deep breaths. "Yes, Aaron."

"Oh, Maddie. Listen, it's just not working anymore babe. You know that."

"No, I don't! What the hell are you talking about? You haven't said anything to me, this is coming out of nowhere!" I felt my eyes fill with tears as my heart broke with every word.

"Is it?"

"Aaron, we've been together for five years. I moved to San Francisco for you. Because we had all of these plans."

"Yeah well, sometimes plans change." I let out a breath of disbelief as the tears started hot and angry down my cheeks. Then I heard it, female laughter. "Gotta go, babe." Listening to the call end, I threw my phone onto the seat beside me as I stared up at the cloth ceiling of the car and bit my lip against the sobs trying to escape.

"Are you okay?" The taxi driver's voice was quiet and sympathetic which was appreciated on some level. I nodded my head hoping he would speed up and take me home. I wanted to crawl into bed until I felt nothing. The last five years flashed before me, the day we met in high school; Aaron was the bad boy, the one that drove the cool car, threw the best parties, and got any girl he wanted. Including me. After high school we went to the same college then when he got an internship turned career, I followed him to the Golden Gate Bridge and never looked back. Travelling a lot for work, Aaron would stay with me when he was in town and my other bedroom in my two bedroom apartment was occupied by my roommate turned one of my best friends, Jamie. I watched it all crumble; in a twenty minute car ride, I watched the last five years of my life shatter until it was a pile of rubble.

"Miss, we're here." Hastily wiping my cheeks, I reached over to grab my purse, pulling out my wallet.

"This one is on me."

I looked at him as if he had two heads, hoping some of my deep rooted gratitude showed. "Thank you." The rain had started to pour; looking up to the sky I couldn't tell the difference anymore between my own tears and that of the cliché that was teeming down on me. Soaking wet, because of course, why wouldn't it be raining, thanks Mother Nature, it's not like I needed a pick–me-up right now, I walked inside and climbed the old staircase that led to my apartment.