Payment

O N E

SYDNEY'S P.O.V

I stared aimlessly into the depths of Melanie's golden locks, each strand of hair glowing against the fluorescent bathroom light. She carelessly placed her glass of wine next to the sink, her other hand occupied with a cherry gloss that now coat her plumped lips.

"It's hard being pretty" She admits, gazing uncontrollably at her flawless perfection.

"I can't really relate" barely holding back a sigh, I found difficulty in prying my memorised eyes off of her, "This is why I hate going clubbing with you. You're so pretty and I'm so .."

"Syd, you are pretty. I'm just prettier"

I withheld a comment that was only going to agree with her, instead now just accepting the silence that suffocated the enclosed room.

"Hey, don't let it get you down before we go out. I'm excited to see how many free drinks I can score tonight" Melanie's finger tips grasped tightly back around her glass, a soft coating of her gloss staining it as she took another sip.

"Sounds fun" I mumbled intentionally, already predicting the night ahead.

"Seriously Sydney? Can you stop being down. You do this every time we get ready together"

"I'm sorry. It's just annoying seeing your best friend catch the attention of every guy, yet I can't catch the attention of one"

Rolling her eyes dramatically, Melanie's annoyance was on display despite her excitement towards the rather true compliment. "Maybe if you weren't so dull and actually didn't hide away in the corner of the club, guys would be able to notice you" Her statement was a correct representation of my actions every Saturday night and she thrived over the thought of being correct.

"The guys at the club aren't fun or exciting" I lied, considering I hadn't once made contact with any of them.

"Ugh" a loud groan escaped Melanie's lips, "Grab me some toilet paper"

"What?"

"Just hurry up and rip me off a piece" I did as I was told, the confusion slowing me down as I try figure out her strange request.

I examined closely as Melanie scurried through her makeup bag, grabbing a hold of a lipstick and writing down a variety of letters that now glow in red.

"Here" she insisted, shoving the lipstick smeared piece of material in my face.

"www.dirtykitty.com ? What the hell is this suppose to mean?"

"You want fun and exciting? These people specialise in rape and attack fantasies. You go online, fill out a survey, and they send someone. All the guys are suppose to be fucking hot, clean and gorgeous dicks".

I listen to her with my mouth agape.

"I know what you're thinking but it is a totally professional operation. The website is probably proxied a bajillion times and it's in the deep web. It's nothing but a black background, no info, a survey and then you pay. And then you wait".

"Woah, woah" I interrupted, still trying to process the alarming information, "you've got to be joking right? This can't be real".