Chapter 13

13

H adley | Sacramento, California | Early 2000s

It was nearly four in the morning when Hadley limped into her apartment, feet swollen from the heels that she planned to donate first thing after she woke up tomorrow. She shut the door behind her, relieved to see that whatever party Hector had thrown in her absence was not still going.

Red and black solo cups had covered every surface in the apartment, with a few tipped over and lingering in their self-made puddles. Empty bags of chips and premade store-bought dips were tossed around the kitchen. Cheap Halloween-themed balloons were already deflating near her desk. This was the type of party she felt like she'd belong at, unlike the one she had just left. No, that world wasn't hers.

She looked over at the couch as Hector snored so loud that he himself seemed startled by it, flipping his body in the opposite direction without waking and letting his hand fall to the floor. His blanket had fallen off, and he slept in black boxer briefs with lightning bolts all over them. Hadley tip-toed over to him, covered him back up with the blanket, and turned towards her room with plans to cut herself out of the dress that was witness to her near miss of rape.

This job had been going so smoothly, all of her experiences with clients before this night were largely positive, fun even. They were meaningful and full of connection. She didn't feel like a dirty hooker—she felt like she mattered. This past evening had been the opposite; she was a prized cow for sale at the fair, awaiting the slaughterhouse.

Maybe she had already fallen too deep. It was time to start applying for college-aged jobs again, even in this high unemployment economy.

"Hey, you came home," Hector's scratchy voice called out to Hadley before she closed the door behind her to her bedroom. She could tell he was still drunk from his party by the hiccups mixing between his words. Hadley walked out of the hallway and leaned against the wall to look at him.

"Looks like I missed a hell of a time," she smiled at him.

"Why does it look like a drag queen did your makeup?" he asked, burping up at the ceiling.

"Close," Hadley laughed, "the girl at the department store makeup counter." She let her back slide against the wall until she was sitting on her butt, the tight fabric nearly ripping from the position.

"It seems a little slutty to go to a work party dressed like that, I think," he said, closing his eyes and draping his forearm across his face.

"Hector, I don't know what I'm doing," she said, putting her forehead to her knees. "I'm so scared. I'm so confused."

"You aren't writing anymore," he hiccuped. "Whatever this job is, you should quit because it's stopping you from doing what you're supposed to do. I'm going to star on Broadway, and you're going to write plays and musicals on Broadway, for me. I can't let you fade away from it unless I want to be a shitty friend, you know?"

"What do I do, then?" Hadley asked rhetorically in a hushed voice .

Hector sat up, a little wobbly, and looked at her.

"You can start by telling me the truth about what you're doing," he said definitively. "I might be drunk and a little high, Hadley, but I'm not an idiot."

Hadley felt so tired. Her body was screaming. Her mind was spinning. She was in a swirl of defeat and anxiety.

"Hector," she whispered, black tears falling from her eyelids as the wetness mixed with her mascara, streaking her face. "Hector, I'm so stupid. I was so desperate, and I wanted to help make your dreams come true, but really, I just didn't want us out in the street."

Hector got up off the couch and stumbled over himself before partially diving on top of his best friend, holding her to his chest.

"Say it," he hiccuped, smelling of vomit and tequila.

"I have sex for money," Hadley whispered, tears streaming down her face like a damn breaking. "I'm worthless. I'm talentless. I'm nobody."

The relief of no longer holding in this secret, of her constant hiding, was something she didn't exactly expect, but it crashed down on her as she sobbed.

Hector shushed Hadley while rocking her gently from side to side like a child. Hadley lifted her head after a few minutes, Hector's fingers under her chin guiding her to look up at him.

"I love you. You are someone important to me, and yes, you might be a little stupid," he laughed.

"You're not angry or weirded out?" Hadley asked in slight disbelief. All this emotion, all the grief over the loss of who she was and what she was willing to do . . . was it simply not a big deal?

"I've had sex for money seven—no, nine times since I was seventeen. It makes me feel like shit, but I think a lot of people have done it at least once. It's not really that big of a deal these days."

Hadley stared at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

"Look, all I have to do is tell my parents that I'm not gay. All I have to do is say we are engaged, and then we can have a room at my house. That is our true worst-case scenario, not sleeping on the sidewalk." Hector stood up and stumbled back to the couch. "You go to sleep, my little slut," he slurred. "Tomorrow is a day."

"You mean another day," Hadley corrected.

"Unfortunately," Hector said, before closing his eyes.

Hadley watched as his body relaxed until it went limp and then curled up on the floor, letting herself fall asleep to the white noise of Hector's snores.

The next morning, she woke up and was surprised to find herself on the couch. The smell of a slightly burnt breakfast was in the air, and her stomach rumbled loudly. She rolled to the side to face the kitchen, where Hector certainly looked busy, chopping things and pushing something around in a hot pan.

"Why are you here?" Hadley asked, stretching her arms long. "You should be training."

"Well, I woke up hungover, and I'd count picking you up off the floor and tucking you into the couch an hour ago without waking you up as training. Grace? Strength? Not throwing up? All important things." He smirked before jumping as hot oil exploded from the pan.

Hadley's phone vibrated on the floor next to her. She glanced at the screen before flipping the device over and pushing it away.

"Is it from that boss of yours?" Hector asked, raising his eyebrows while scooping some eggs onto a plate.

"Yes," she groaned.

"You are going to go take a shower, put on literally anything else, and have some breakfast," Hector instructed.

"Am I? When did you become the parent in this relationship?" Hadley smirked.

"After you eat breakfast, we are going into every theater, dance studio, and gym I know to fill out job applications. We both live here, so we both can split the rent."

Hadley nodded at the marvel that was her friend, so grateful to have someone looking out for her. She stood up, popping a few stitches in the tight bodice of her party dress, and headed down the hallway to do as instructed.

The hot water washed Hadley's sins away, giving her a feeling of relief and comfort. The shower had always been such a safe space, where she could cry, relax, and sing terribly. Squeezing the bottle of body wash onto her bright blue loofah, Hadley made small gentle circles over her skin. She massaged her legs, letting the soap lather, creating rich, thick bubbles as she moved over her navel, up her chest, and onto her shoulders. She moved to her back and stopped, gasping in pain. The loofah pushed on something connected to her, like a giant splinter sticking out of her back.

She dropped the loofah, putting her hand over the same spot, this time feeling nothing. It was so real, the panic and the feeling of her skin ripping. She stood there for a few minutes, letting the hot water continue to hit her back as she regained her regular heartbeat, not noticing that a richer, darker blue color was mixed in with the suds against the bright blue sponge.

"I think I'm going crazy," she whispered to herself as she shut off the water and went through the process of drying off and dressing.

"Hey, you alright in there?" Hector yelled from the other side of the closed door. "I thought I heard something."

"I'm alright," Hadley yelled back.

"Hey, I'm all for privacy, but your phone was on the floor just going nuts. You have at least five missed calls and ten text messages from a Grant."

Hadley opened the door, making eye contact with her friend.

"Really?" she asked, holding out her hand as Hector handed the device over.

I don't know what the fuck you did darlin', but the client from last night . . . is slightly obsessed with you.

Hadley's heart stopped as she read the succession of texts.

He wants you back today.

Why aren't you answering?

We can't let people with this kind of money down, darlin'.

Is this what ghosting is ?

"It's about your job, your real job, isn't it?" Hector asked, still standing there.

Hadley opened the door, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and pushed past Hector, walking into her room and flopping down on her bed. She let her body sink in, the plush blanket enveloping her as she breathed in deeply and closed her eyes.

"They want me back. Last night, I had to go to an awful party in East Sacramento, and I guess they, or he, liked me."

Hector stood in her door frame, shifting uncomfortably, trying to form what to say.

"Well, you say no, right? If you hate it, we go and stick to the plan. We get jobs and work together to support each other."

"Right." Hadley nodded. "You are right. Thanks, Hector. I needed someone to tell me it was okay to say no." She began texting a message to Grant before putting her phone away in her back pocket.

Hector climbed into the bed with Hadley, laying his head on her stomach.

"In return, it sounds like you have a lot of stories that you have to be honest with me about now. You're a ho! I want to hear all the nasty things you've been doing."

Hadley grinned, slapping her hands to her face to hide, and began going into every raunchy detail, leaving out the experience she had with the pirate. The stress of the encounter was still sitting heavily in her chest.

Vibrations hit Hadley's backside, and she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The screen flashed the word unknown so she warily flipped it open before putting it up to her ear, waiting.

"Hailey?" a man's voice asked over the line. Hector raised his eyebrows at her, and she shrugged back in response.

"Yes," she said back into the phone.

"This is Sheng. You came to my party. I fed you a sandwich."

"Of course, Sheng, hello. How did you get my number?" she asked.

"I have a friend in tech," he replied. "Listen, I was told that you were not available today, but I thought maybe I could make it worthwhile to change your plans."

"I'm . . . still recovering from the party last night."

"I can't hear," Hector muttered, circling his hands by his ears, making Hadley grin and hit the speakerphone button on her screen. Sheng's deep voice filled her little room.

"I want you to come over for dinner. Imagine the chaos we could get into, having my chef whip up anything you'd like to put in that mouth."

Hector's eyes went wide, and Hadley put her hand up to her mouth to muffle the schoolgirl giggles.

"I realized that once you were gone, I never should have let you leave. You're like my own Cinderella. I'll pay your fee, of course, with a good tip. Let's say eight hundred dollars an hour. I'll send you back out the door by nightfall."

"Mute!" Hector mouthed, his hands waving around frantically.

"Sheng, can you hold on a moment, please?" she asked, hitting the mute button on her phone. "I'm turning him down, right? We are looking for jobs?"

"Hadley, are you kidding me right now? Eight hundred dollars an hour to have dinner with someone who speaks as sexy as this man? This, this thing you're doing here, how can you say no?"

"Hello? Hailey, are you still there?" Sheng's voice came in through the phone.

"I'm sorry, please ignore me. I was just really surprised to hear numbers like that. You're right, let's stick to the plan," Hector said, the look in his stormy blue eyes completely sure.

"I'm here, sorry, Sheng," Hadley said, unmuting the call. "I will be there in an hour."

Hadley knew Hector was right, she had never been paid anywhere close to what Sheng was offering to her. That money could be life changing. That money could be what she actually needed to stop. She could focus on writing, get that seasonal job for basic needs and have a real safety net for the both of them. It was silly, it was selfish, to push that away.

Hector flung his hands into the air before covering his eyes and shaking his head as Hadley hung up the phone.

"Has anyone ever told you how confusing you are?" Hector asked.

"Grant drives me to the client. He sits outside to make sure I'm protected. I think I need to call him."

"No, stop. I've got it. I can drive you," Hector said. "Now, what are you going to wear? It cannot be jeans and a t-shirt."

"I've quit and un-quit in about twenty minutes. I think I'm going to wear exactly this."