Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I catch sight of myself in my wardrobe mirror, thanking my lucky stars that I was blessed with Mum’s looks and not Dad’s. I have her frame – long legs, tiny waist, huge tits, and the same big, blue eyes that she has. Mine look a lot more striking with my dyed jet-black hair than hers do with natural blonde.
I’ve been a goth since before I met Connor, so I’m a perfectionist with thick cat flicks and fake lashes, and I can pout like a dream in deep red lipstick.
So, how to put it to good use?
I log into one of my dirty online chat groups. I used to read out some of my conversations to Connor, but now they are all for me. I browse through the content, remembering some discussions about sex work and building up a paying fanbase, and then I notice one of the online member icons. Ebony. I’ve known Ebony through chat threads for years, and we’ve had some private conversations – enough that I know what she does for a living.
I call up a chat window.
Hey.
Such an idiot introduction out of nowhere, but she types right back.
Hey, how are you? How is the rockstar doing?
Jesus Christ. Did I really talk about him so much that everyone in the world asks about him? I guess I did.
For the first time since he left me, I’m honest about reality.
He left me for a pretty little redhead groupie called Carly.
There is no sad faced emoji in response, or any there, there, you’ll soon feel better. Just one word…
Cunt.
It makes me laugh, because yes. He is one. For the past twelve months he’s been nothing but a cunt, ego growing every five seconds.
You planning on meeting anyone else? she asks me. Or still at the sobbing your heart out phase? It’s a shitter. I know. I’ve been there.
I let my fingers do the talking.
I don’t want to meet anyone else right now. I can’t be fucked to even think about it. I pause, weighing up my words before I hit send. What I do want to do is get fucked, though. And I also want to earn enough money to spend Christmas in Australia with my parents…
She knows what I mean.
She knows why I’m messaging.
I’m contemplating typing out another conversation angle, so I don’t sound like such a blatant bitch, digging for info, but I don’t need to. Her reply is another blunt one.
Want a video call? I’ll tell you all about it.
Chapter Two
My palms are sweaty as the calling icon flashes up on my screen.
I expect Ebony will look different on video call – due to the power of filters on most people’s profile pictures, but no. She’s smiling as she appears and sure, her profile pictures are taken from a flattering side angle, but it’s no major distortion. She has beautiful brunette hair, mixed with blonde, perfectly shaped lips and great cheekbones. She has to be at least thirty, and she’s so confident it shines through the screen.
I wish I was dressed for a night out, not sitting on my bed in a crumpled work uniform.
I notice her perfectly manicured fingernails as she waves. “Hey there! Wow, you actually look like your profile picture, you know that? Quite a surprise.”
I laugh. “I was just thinking exactly the same thing about you. You look amazing.”
“Thanks. You’d hope so, given how much budget I give to it. Work expenses and all that.” Her smirk turns serious. “I’m really sorry the wank face you were with fucked you over. Screw the rock idol. He’ll regret it, don’t worry. He’ll come running back.”
I lean against my headboard, laptop propped on my thighs. I let out a sigh that comes right from the bottom of my soul.
“Wank face can regret it all he likes. I’m not taking him back. I’ve already given him seven years of my life, so he can fuck off. He can make it to the top of the rock industry for all I care, I’d still give him the middle finger. He’s no rock idol to me. I’m done with it.”
I’m surprised at how resolute I sound, but the rage is there, like molten magma, burning in the pit of me. I glance at his shitty bag in the corner. Yep. That thing is definitely going in the fucking dumpster.
Ebony gives me a thumbs up. “You’ve got real fire there. I love it.”
“Fire and fury. Both, in magnitudes.”
“Whatever works to get you through it.”
“Yeah, some more softly focused therapy can come later, when I have the luxury of money and time. Right now, I’d rather just hate his guts.”
“When you have the luxury of money and time, you can have therapy on the beach with your parents.” Her grin is lovely. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To go to theirs for Christmas? They’re in Australia?”