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)
All my confidence-boosting mirror rehearsals over the past few days mean nothing whatsoever. I’m a nervous wreck as I get dressed up in my fake school uniform, shaking as I knot my tie.
One whole night playing Daddy’s girl feels terrifying, like I’m going to goof up the very moment I step in through User 762’s front door. I can’t shake off the nerves. I haven’t played a role since drama class at high school, let alone maintaining a character for 14 hours straight.
I’ve looked up User 762’s address – outside the city in a posh village suburb. Daddy will be expecting the best from his pretend daughter, and can I deliver that? Really? I’m not so sure I can.
I send a message to Ebony.
I’m crapping myself.
I see the typing icon in return.
You’ll smash it. Don’t worry. It’s your first all-nighter, so freaking out is usual. Plus, it’s roleplay, so cut yourself some slack. The nerves will ease off once you get there. Believe in yourself!
I wish I had even an ounce of her faith.
I bought myself a genuine school blazer ready for this role, but feel like a fraud as I put it on. I put a long coat on over my uniform, but it doesn’t hide my knee-high white socks and Mary Janes. Just as well I booked a cab. There’s no way I’d be up for taking the tube. I’d feel every pair of eyes on me, every step of the way.
I tell myself I’m overthinking it. That people wouldn’t even notice. Still, rationality means nothing when nerves are sparking through your entire body.
I’m already waiting outside when the cab shows up, with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I slip into the back seat with a forced smile as I give the address to the driver. I’m fidgeting and shifting in my seat as soon as he pulls away, and trying to distract myself with the view from the window doesn’t help any. The bustle of streets are nothing but a blur.
My fingers are so jittery I have to twist them in my lap, or I’ll bite my nails to shit.
It's about thirty minutes later that the bustle of London city truly eases. The calmness of the surroundings gives me a fresh bout of jitters.
It’s been a fair while now since I’ve been out of central London. Being in the city with Connor has always felt alien, ever since we moved. The landscape of standard suburbia feels way more at home.
Home.
How ironic.
“Had a good day at school?” the driver asks, finally breaking the silence.
I look down and find my coat has fallen open, revealing my crested tie. Shit.
“Um, yeah, thanks.”
He smiles in the rearview mirror.
“I used to be a goth at college.”
I could laugh, honestly. He really believes I’m a goth student, fresh out of college. Thumbs up on the appearance front for me. I try to use it as ammunition to quell my nerves.
“You grew out of it, then?”
“Yeah. My parents used to kick off at me headbanging to Cradle of Filth every bloody day in my bedroom. Got older and kind of drifted out of it, you know?”
No, I don’t know. I grin anyway, and use it as practice.
“It’s hard when you play up for your parents, right?”
“Too right. They were always on my case.”
I bet your dad didn’t spank you over his knee, though.
We talk about goth and metal bands, and I focus in on him, trying to relieve the pressure. It works, kind of, until I see the signs for Wrensham.
“Almost home,” the driver says, and fuck, the houses are even bigger than I thought. I see the sign for User 762’s road, and tell the driver to stop here, at the end of the street.
“Can you wait a second, please?” I ask.
He must think I’m a total weirdo as I scrabble for two scrunchies from my backpack and put my hair up into pigtails. He doesn’t say another word as I pay him in cash and give him a thanks, climbing out with my heart racing. He shoots me a weird glance through the window as he turns and drives away.
Shit. It’s really happening.
I can see Daddy’s house up in the corner of the cul-de-sac. I’ve scoped it out a billion times on street view.
My legs are wobbly, but I force myself to walk ahead. Every step feels like a mile, my feet feel so heavy. Reaching Daddy’s driveway has me shaking like a leaf, so I keep my eyes focused on the doorway in front of me as I pass his Merc parked outside. I click on arrived, to tell him I’m here. The instructions come through in return.
Door is open. Welcome home, darling.
Darling… I’m his little darling. My God, part of me wants to walk away.
I remind myself that I can walk away at any time I want to. There’s 5k up for grabs here. Least I can do is try.