Chapter 8
Eight
DARCIE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Humming, I scrubbed the counter, dancing along to the song on the jukebox. My shift was about over, but then I had to head to my second job at the laundromat. No time to rest for the desperately poor in County Music’s capital.
“You’re good, Darcie. See you tomorrow.” Jolene placed an envelope on the counter, and I sighed in relief. Tip payout days were my favorite. Sliding the thick envelope into my back pocket, I nodded, dropping the rag into the bucket, and headed to the back.
The Honkey Tonk bar was busier than the diner had been, but it was fun. After getting a fake ID with the name Darcie Rosebud on it, I’d been able to find a job. This one was a cross between a bar and dance club with karaoke in between. They held several events that made it fun, constantly changing it up. I still wasn’t close to anyone yet, but I was starting to feel like I could open that door.
“Night, Darcie,” one of the girls said as I walked through the back room.
“Night.” I waved, smiling softly.
“We’re all headed to Layla’s later if you want to join.”
“Oh, I can’t. I’m headed to my second job.”
“Yuck! Girl, you work all the time.”
“Yeah, well, gotta eat.” I laughed awkwardly, not sure what to say. She eyed me a second before she walked over, stepping closer.
“What if I knew a way for you to make a lot of money?” She bit her lip, and I worried she was suggesting prostitution.
“Why does it sound like you’re Pretty Woman-ing me?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
She waved her hand, laughing. “Girl, that’s so ‘90s. It’s way easier than that now.”
“Wait, so you are talking about prostitution? I thought it was a joke.”
“I don’t joke about this. And it’s not prostitution. You don’t have sex with the clients.”
“Then what?” My brow furrowed, not understanding her meaning.
“Have you ever heard of a cam girl before?”
“No.” I shook my head. I didn’t think it was something I could do, but part of me was curious.
She smiled wide and handed me a business card. Did I miss that day in high school? What was with everyone having business cards now? It was black with “Candi” on it and a web address. I flipped it over, and the word “try me” was printed.
“If you’re curious, go to that website and enter that password. You can get a free taste of what I’m talking about. I make bank now and only keep this job for the connections. I want to be a singer.” She smiled, winking.
Cupping my hand around it, I nodded, sliding it into my pocket. “Um, thanks.” She waved, heading out the other direction, leaving me standing, wondering what had just transpired between us.
I couldn’t deny I was curious, though.
After six hours of standing on my feet at the laundromat, I was ready to crash into my bed. The whole time, the business card had burned a hole in my pocket. Each time a customer complained about a machine not working or that someone wasn’t respecting the time limit on machines, it burned more.
Maybe it was worth a look? If it was online, it couldn’t be that bad? Right?
Climbing up the rickety stairs of my studio apartment, I unlocked the door and stepped inside. My body relaxed, and I shuffled my feet over to the bed in the corner. My kitchen butted up to my living room, which included my bedroom, and ended with my tiny bathroom in the corner. It was the size of a shoebox, but it was mine, and I loved it for that.
But I wouldn’t mind having more than one room for everything. You know, for all my shoes.
Grabbing some cold noodles out of the fridge, I sat down on my bed and kicked my shoes off, leaning back against the headboard. My body relaxed back into the pillows, and I let myself unwind fully. This was my safe place, my one area where I could be as strong or as weak as I felt. No one to judge me, no one to see. Just me.
It was comforting in a completely sad way.
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out as I shoved a bite of noodles into my mouth.
Jackass: Hey brat, how was your day? You make it home?
Darcie: Yep. Eating some noodles.
Jackass: Cold, I bet. You’re so gross.
Darcie: Not everyone can afford a microwave. I’m lucky to have a fridge and a hot plate.
Jackass: You know I can send you money.
Darcie: I know. Thank you, but no. I want to do this on my own. It feels important.
Jackass: And you say I’m stubborn
Darcie: No, I say you’re a jackass. There’s a difference.
Jackass: Haha
I smiled, happy to be talking to Chase. We’d weirdly enough become friends over the past few months. I’d finally called him when I’d gotten into Nashville and cried as I told him everything that had happened. He listened quietly and told me Maddox had made the right choice. I wanted to hate him, expecting him to say he was stupid, but he hadn’t.
Darcie: I’m beat. I’ll talk more tomorrow, loser.
Jackass: Always with such caring words there. Be safe, brat.
Darcie: Night, Chase.
Jackass: Night.
I smiled as I snuggled down into the pillows. They’d been the first extravagant purchase I made after my first paycheck. I could live in a tiny apartment where I basically showered and cooked my meals in the same space, but I needed good bedding. Placing the noodles on the nightstand, I pulled the covers over my head and fell asleep, the card still burning in my pocket.
The sun was setting when I managed to roll out of bed. Working through the night was an odd experience, but I started to crave it. I finally had a night off from both places, and a night in my PJs watching reruns sounded like a dream come true.
I wouldn’t admit it was because I was too sad to have friends. Nope.
Taking a quick shower, I wrapped my hair in a towel and pulled on clean clothes. The one nice perk at the laundromat was unlimited washing for all of my things. It was one I took full advantage of. There was something luxurious about having clean towels whenever I wanted them.
Padding a couple of steps into the kitchen, I pulled out the frozen pizza and placed it in the toaster oven. While it cooked, I sat at my rickety table, opening the second-hand laptop I’d purchased last month.
The first thing I did was sign into the secure server and checked for any messages. When I saw the red light, my smile spread across my face.
It had taken me a while to remember I could communicate with people this way. It was just another reminder of what the trauma had stolen and the comfort bubble I’d been in with Maddox. I hadn’t needed to think, so I hadn’t.
I’d been hesitant about messaging him, but I needed to set something right. I didn’t hate him, not by a long shot.
MadDog: Hey, @Rosebud. I saw a sunset today that made me think of you. I miss you, Princess.
Rosebud: @MadDog, was it ugly then?
MadDog: Ha, ha. How’s your day? You just getting up?
Rosebud: Yeah. Long night.
We kept our lives vague, knowing it wouldn’t be good for either of us if we overthought it. Instead, we rekindled our friendship, starting from scratch. Maddox and I had never had a traditional relationship, so it made sense not to try.
MadDog: You doing okay?
Rosebud : I’m getting there. I miss you too.
MadDog : I know I’m not supposed to make promises….
Rosebud: Don’t. It’s too dangerous to hope.
MadDog : Okay
Rosebud : I talked to a girl at work.
MadDog : Oh? Gonna try to make a friend.
Rosebud : Yeah. I think so. You?
MadDog : I don’t have friends here.
Rosebud: Yeah, I know. How’s it going with your mission?
MadDog : I gotta go. Same time tomorrow, Princess?
Rosebud : Always.
MadDog signed out.
I didn’t miss how he avoided answering. Clicking over to the other chat I had, I sighed when there wasn’t a new message.
Rosebud : Hey, Dad. I love and miss you. How are you?
I signed out and checked my accounts with nothing else to do on the site.
Checking Balance: $300
Savings Balance: $100
Along with the money from last night, I had roughly $500 to my name. It wasn’t enough. Rent was due next week, and I’d barely be able to cover it. Exhaustion covered me, sitting heavy on my shoulders. I guess I could ask for more shifts or get another job.
Looking over my space, my eyes snagged on my jeans, and I hopped up, remembering the card. Pulling it out, I held it in my hand, debating if I was that desperate. Glancing around my place, the tiny amount of food I had, and the constant hunger I was in—yeah, I was that desperate.
Sitting back at the table, I typed in the web address, surprised when a black website came up. It had a picture of a seductive girl on it and a box to the side asking for credentials. Using the drop-down menu, I was surprised there were so many names. Landing on Candi, I hit select and then typed in the word on the back.
The screen flickered, revealing a page of videos. Most were locked and showed they cost anywhere from $5 to $25 to watch. Shit . A blinking light at the top pulled my attention, and I saw it said a live video was in progress. Clicking on it, a screen popped up.
Would you like to use your free five-minute access now?
Clicking yes, I held my breath, not sure what to expect.
When she came onto the screen, the angle was of her from the bust-up. She wasn’t naked but had on a skimpy robe that was see-through, practically giving anyone a visual of her breast if they looked close enough. It was erotic without nudity, I supposed. I realized she was talking about what she should make for dinner. When I noticed the chat screen and all the messages popping up.
So, it was like an interactive thing? I didn’t know if I liked that. Felt like a lot of pressure. The more I watched, though, I realized she was just talking about everyday things and getting paid to do it. She’d ask opinions and give people the option to pick for her if they tipped. I watched as dollar bill signs and hearts flew up as she zoomed out, getting up to walk into another room. I immediately gasped when I saw her state-of-the-art kitchen.
“Okay, now I’m jealous.”
My own pizza dinged, and I pulled it out, realizing how pitiful it looked compared to what she was making on-screen. Candi pulled down bowls and ingredients, all while practically naked, talking to people. I guess it wasn’t too bad. A timer flashed up, and I found I was actually kind of disappointed. A message flashed, and I found myself tempted to say yes.
Would you like to continue for $5 for ten minutes?
Hitting no, I clicked back out to the main page and decided I wanted to see the whole picture before deciding if this was something I wanted to do. I found folders and clicked on a few.
Cleaning
Cooking
Bathing
Talking
Private chats
NSFW
I was half tempted to click on the NSFW ones, but I didn’t want to see that of my coworker. Clicking on the cleaning one, I coughed up $5 and selected a video with the most views. Candi stood in a bra, thong, and high heels. She waved at the camera and then set it down on a stand. She came on explaining how dirty her apartment was, and then she vacuumed. Legit vacuumed. And got paid for it. Shit.
Could I do this, though?
Deciding I needed to see the NSFW ones, I clicked back to the main screen and selected a different name—a male one. Patrick’s screen loaded, and my hand hovered over the folder, shaking slightly.
“Just click it, Darce. He’s not going to bite. He can’t touch you.”
I clicked on it, taking a deep breath, and hundreds of videos loaded, ranging from $5 to $100. Damn, Patrick, get it . Selecting a cheap one, I pushed back from the table, needing some space from the screen and me. It was irrational, but it felt the further I was from the screen, the more control I had.
He came on, his face not in view, just him sitting on a bed with tight white boxers, his erection visible. I gulped. Okay, so far, not so bad.
“Hey, you.”
I jumped, his deep voice surprising me. He chuckled, and it felt like he was right there with me. Wow. I looked over my shoulder to make sure, even though I knew he wasn’t. I still checked.
“I’m so glad you could join me today. Are you ready to get a little naughty, lover?”
He rubbed his hand over his length, and I watched in amazement as it grew.
“Yeah, that feels good. Fuck, I’m imagining you being here, rubbing me. Do you want to see it? Yeah, you do.”
I found myself nodding, despite being scared. Slowly, he rolled his briefs down, his thick erection jutting up from his underwear. He stroked it once, squeezing, and I sucked in a breath. Shit. It was kind of hot watching him.
“That’s it. It feels so good. Do you like watching me? Touch yourself for me. I want you to feel good while you watch me.”
I thought about it, my breathing quickening, but I was too shy, afraid he could see me somehow. Instead, I watched, learning from him as he pleasured himself. His breathing quickened, and right before he was getting close, another screen popped up, telling me I needed to purchase more time to see the finish.
My breathing was shaking, and my insides rattled, and somehow it took all my willpower to hit no.
I understood now. It was erotic watching someone, getting a peek into their private life. It felt like I was right there with him. Yet, I wasn’t. It was safe and controlled. And with the pay scheme how it was, it would be easy to make more money in one night than I did all week. If I was poor and was tempted to give up money for a few more glimpses, imagine people who were well fed and horny.
Tapping my fingers on the table, my pizza sat discarded, cold now. Pulling out my phone, I texted my boss for Cathy’s number. I had to stop myself and not use Candi.
Darcie: Hey! I wanted to switch with Cathy. Could I have her number?
Boss: Sure. One sec.
Boss: 555-5883
Darcie: Thanks
Boss: Any chance you want to come in tonight?
I debated, always willing to pick up any shift in the past. But this was my first night off in ages, and I didn’t have it in me to go. Plus, if I decided to do this, I wouldn’t need it. Taking a gamble, I said no for the first time in forever.
Darcie: Sorry, I can’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Texting Candi, I sucked in a breath as excitement coursed through me. I was nervous as fuck, but maybe this could be the next step for me to gain control. It would be nice not to have to eat ramen or pizza for every meal.
Darcie: Can you tell me more? I’m interested.
Candi: Yay! Sure thing, girl. Want to come over?
Darcie: Um, yeah, okay.
Candi: Sweet. See you in a few!
She sent her address, and I found myself jumping up to throw clothes on. This was happening; this was really happening.
That night, I listened to Candi tell me the details of being a cam girl and how it worked while we ate the dinner she’d just made with strangers, practically topless.
“So, you get to control what you do?”
“Yep. You can do as little or as much as you want. Show as much or as little as you want. Just no falling in love with the clients or sleeping with them; that’s the one no-no. Kind of like stripping. You can’t do your best if you’re in love and a jealous boyfriend/girlfriend is a mood killer.”
She dipped her fork into the bowl, twirling noodles around it, taking a bite. Candi was the type of carefree I wanted to be. She owned her sexuality and wasn’t ashamed of it. I wanted to be like her.
“So, what do you think, girlie?” she asked, sitting up and looking at me.
“I think I want to try. I might not be any good at it, but it beats cleaning lint out of dryers at 3 am.”
“Yay!” She jumped up, moving to hug me. “This is going to be great.”
I smiled, hoping she was right.
She helped me pick out a look, letting me borrow some of her clothes. Together we created my account and set me up as Rose. It was time for Rosebud to bloom.