Page 9 of Finding Haven
“Geeze, Bex. Say it a little louder, would ya?” I laugh, covering my face with my palm to hide the blush crawling up my neck.
She shrugs, rolling her eyes. “Ignore them. Are you having fun with it?”
I let her question mull around in my mind for a moment. If I’m being honest, I’m enjoying the account a lot more than I thought I would. I was nervous about putting myself out there in the beginning, but keeping my identity somewhat hidden has helped to quell my nerves. And the extra income is definitely needed. “Actually, I kinda love it.” I bite my bottom lip with a slight smile. “I didn’t think I would, but it makes me feel–”Powerful. In control.
“Like you’re a badass?” she teases, her lips pulling into a knowing smile.
I huff out a laugh. “Exactly. It’s been going really well. My account’s grown faster than I thought it would, and I just had someone pay for my highest subscription tier, which feels insane. I still haven’t even gone live. I feel like if I do, I’ll be giving up a piece of that control, you know?” There isn’t much in my life that I feel like I have control over. The idea of relinquishing control, even over something that doesn’t seem like it would be a big deal, has my stomach tightening.
She leans in and lowers her voice as the guys before walk past our table with their drinks in hand. “I think you should try it. Imagine all the reactions from men completely losing their shit over how hot you are.”
Becca is a very free-spirited and open person, and she’s the biggest hype-girl I know. I just can’t imagine giving away something so personal.More importantly, I don’t know how I feel about giving up that level of control, but I can’t lie and pretend the idea doesn’t send a wave of heat rushing over my skin. Reading comments and private messages is one thing, but to be able to see those kinds of responses flood through on a chat screen while I pleasure myself live? Could I even do something like that?
My conversation with Becca has been playing on a loop in my mind all night. As soon as we got home, I dove down a rabbit hole of research. I’ve finally come to a conclusion after nearly two hours of watching videos from fellow creators. If I want to make a decent amount of money, like the kind that would give me a chance to fix my car and slowly climb out of debt, then I need to put myself out there. I need to go live on Frisk. But I also need a way to maintain some semblance of control, which is why I’ve decided to try something a little different.
I’m going to go live, but if anyone wants to see more than what I’ll be showing, they’ll need to pay for a private session—something I’m only offering for my top-tier subscribers. There’s still this fear that not a single person will want a private session, but I’m willing to try. The money I’ve made from photo and video content has been great, but it could be better. I’m still nowhere near being able to live comfortably. At this point, I’d even settle for somewhat comfortable. Like “my bills are paid and I’m stocked up on medical supplies, but I can’t afford to do anything fun” comfortable.
Tonight will be the test run. After scouring through my lingerie wardrobe, I settled on a dark purple lace bralette and coordinating lace cheeky panties to go with my purple mask. I know that black tends to be the go-to color for all things lingerie, but wearing too many dark colors tends to leave me feeling… well, dark. Being able to incorporate pops of vibrant colors into my wardrobe, even one meant to be sexual and alluring, helps me to still feel like myself. Even while doing something that’s so far out of my comfort zone that if you’d told me a few months ago I would be camming for money, I probably would have laughed in your face.
And not just a cute little giggle, but a full blown, fall-down-crying laugh.
I’m sitting on my bed with my back pressed to the headboard, finger hovering over the “Go Live” button as butterflies flutter in my stomach. This is probably a terrible idea, but maybe I’ll get lucky and none of my subscribers will be online to see the notification.
Who am I kidding? That would be a disaster!
I need at least a few of them to be on in order for this to work. I hate having to rely on public transportation and ride-share apps. I’m so freaking sick of feeling like I have no control of whether or not I actually get to class or work on time. I can’t afford to lose my job or for my grades to suffer because of it. With tuition being due soon, something has to give. I can’t continue to just struggle through life.
But… What if someoneisonline? What if they do see the notification, join my livestream, and request a private session? What will they want me to do? I know I’m not obligated to obey their command, but I’d feel bad taking their money only to deny their request. Goosebumps pepperalong my arms as I take in a deep breath and tap the button, officially starting my first ever live session.
8
Zack
I’mfuckingexhausted.Everymovement feels sluggish, like thick tar traveling through a thin crevice. There’s a burning sensation behind my eyes that only sleep will extinguish, yet I can’t bring myself to lay down and drift off. I’m terrified that if I do, I’ll be right back at that bridge, watching my best friend plummet into the river below while I stand by and do nothing.
I’ll never know whether I could have saved Ryan or the man who ended both of their lives. If I could go back and relive that night to possibly change the outcome, I would like to think I would have found a way to shake myself out of the frozen paralysis in time to save them both.
Instead, I find myself cursed by nightmares nearly every time I close my eyes. I’ve tried so many different vices over the last five years to prompt a dreamless state–booze, marijuana, and a list of medications so long that I’ve lost track of them all–but nothing ever works. Not for long, anyway. No matter what I do, my mind never settles.
I spent years learning how to shut off unnecessary emotions and compartmentalize everything, but Ryan’s death doesn’t fit into some little box inside my mind. No matter how hard I try to shove it away and forget, the memory is always there. Always lingering just beneath the surface.
This current assignment for the Legion has been weighing heavily on my mind. Watching Ace wage war against his own internal battle has me feeling more empathetic than I’m used to. I feel connected enough to the few people I work with and speak to regularly, but I find myself forcing down any flash of emotion threatening to break through the surface. Ace’s sister is the person I interact with the most, given that she works on-site at the Elysian almost daily, and even she has learned that I prefer to keep my distance.
The loud ring of my phone pierces the silence, snapping my attention to the device. Nausea churns in my stomach when I see Ace’s name on the screen. While we don’t exactly keep a strict set of work hours, it’s unusual for him to call this late.
Grabbing the phone from my desk in front of me, I swipe a finger across the screen to answer.
“What?” I clip, not bothering with a formal greeting.
“I need you to meet me at Buttersweet Bakery tomorrow morning,” he says, his voice strained.
A bakery?
“What the fuck do we need to do at—”
“I need you to help me get a new security system installed. Something top of the line.”
The fuck?Ace is an Anders, technically ranking him above me, seeing as his father is the head of the organization. I’m not in a position to argue or question his motives. He’s never given me a reason to doubt his ability to remain focused on his assignments, but I’m exhausted and struggling to form a connection between his target and a local bakery.
