Episode 25: Completely Bitter Sweet

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               "Ahhh! Hahaha!" One of the sluts behind me starts squealing her butt off with laughter as the rest of these freaky whores get ready for bed, walking around in lace undergarments and silk robes with Koi fish or whatever patterned on their backs, passing bottles around and literally smoking fvcking cigarettes in my friggin' face.

               I know these girls mean well, but damm I'm about to pass out.

               Ugh, I can't take it. I'm opening a window.

               I frown and get up to move past a few girls that keep talking about the good old days, and yeah, thanks for not mentioning all the ways you used to get guys off. I've had enough of that from Estela to last me a lifetime.

               "Here Spes." I turn around. "Brush your hair. That bath must have helped out huh?" Roberta, a blonde haired girl with light green eyes and a small mole near her nose lifts a raggedy towel and comb before I hear some music start playing while the cold air fills the stuffy smoke smelling and body products filled room.

               I'm still not used to how poor and low key everything is, but I can't complain too much. At least not yet. I'll settle for mental rants until further notice. Ugh, this towel...

               I'm actually starting to get a little comfortable in this place though, especially with how friendly all these women are, and I'm already bobbing my head to the odd sounding beat that started playing after Vanessa, a 30 year old widow, uses her long red nails to press a button on a worn out old CD player.

               Ha. I can't believe it. About 2 weeks ago, I was home, by myself in my room enjoying some privacy and practicing my steps for fencing class the next day, sure that I was going to pass but in the end, I was off by a few points, still a burn to my ego, and decided to retaliate by trying to knock my instructor on her as$ which backfired.

               Now? I'm here in this odd fix, watching women cover themselves with dressy shirts that men left behind with their tan or pale legs walking around in heels as a finish, their lips red or pink or any other lipstick color they can think of, totally fitting the stereotypical hooker portrayal.

               Dang. It's almost like everyone in here is playing dress up. As long as they don't have me in feathers by the end of the day, I'm fine with it, sort of. Not really. This is something I'd only ever see in movies or something.

               "So Spes, tell me. Why is your hair gray, munchy?"

               Munchy? I frown and raise an eyebrow.

               "She means munchkin." Diana explains Vanessa's 'munchy' sh1t and I'm left biting my tongue to keep from scoffing and walking away.

               "She probably dyed it, hon." A woman with short, dark red hair hops onto the bed and opens a magazine while balancing a martini glass and a half smoked cigarette in her long pale fingers, winking at me with her heavy black eyelashes and dark black eyelids. "So, you asked us before to help you with something. What is it?"

               "Well," I bob my head side to side. "I wanted to do something-"

               "Aren't you a little young to lose it? Like, you're 15." Kitty crosses her legs and thanks a friend when she's passed a bottle of wine, chugging it before passing it along.

               I know I shouldn't be curious about what it tastes like in that dark green bottle, but I'm guessing that before the nights over, I'll need something like false courage if it goes down the way I'm hoping it'll go down.

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