The Rent Boy (EDITING)

Chapter Five: Make or Break-

A/N: The gif on the side is of the "Rich Client" (:

    My eyes were fixated on the scuff in my new, shiny dress shoes that were barely an inch away from the cream, suite door I stood face to face with. I swallowed nervously, scuffing my feet across the red carpet of the corridor. My left hand raised, fist balled, ready to knock. But before I let my knuckles rap against the door, I remembered what the driver had said. Go straight in.

    The key card dangled from my middle finger. It was attached to a keyring that was gleaming in the artificial light intimidatingly. Jesus, I really was a pussy when all it took was a keyring to make me shit myself. Shaking that off with a slight nod of the head and a tug on the collar of my shirt, I worked up the confidence and swiped the card before I had the chance to cower out.

    I really wished Kyle hadn't told me that this guy was basically the door to a better life and that everything depended on me. I couldn't screw this up. If I did then I'd let everyone down. It wasn't Kyle that I was doing this for, but the rest of the lads. Sure they were little shits, but that was mainly due to the life they were forced to live. I wanted to change that. I wanted to try and give them a proper chance.

    I twisted the handle after the light flicked to green and the door clicked open quietly. Letting a deep breath out, I shoved it open with my shoulder, only to stumble in with shock as I tripped over my feet. I managed to steady myself only just, not expecting the door to have opened so smoothly.

    My eyes scanned the room hastily, searching for the client's humoured stare. Luckily, I found myself standing alone. I still cleared my throat, recovering from the embarrassment but thanking the lord no one was there to see me. I pushed the door shut with the tips of my fingers, hating the way it whispered along the carpet before gently clicking shut, as though it were mocking me.

    Wetting my dry lips, I slowly turned back to greet the room I'd be spending my evening in. To my left there was an area that was obviously the kitchen, but what stood out the most was the mini-bar, filled with bottles of liquor. I was tempted to down an entire bottle, though I doubted it would calm my nerves in the slightest.

    The lighting of the room reflected against the large window panes, that took up an entire length of the room, instead of a wall. I could even see myself standing there in the reflection. It was the first time I'd seen myself in a suit. To be fair to myself, I looked quite alright, actually. Well, I did until the neck upwards, since my expression portrayed fear in the most obvious of ways. Not a good look on me.

    I tried to relax the muscles in my face into a neutral look, it wasn't working out.

    I shoved my hands in my pockets and rocked back and forth on my toes, awkwardly. I was trying to decide if I should stand around here or sit down on the white sofa over by the window, on my right. Wait for mister rich guy to make an appearance, or if I should snoop around for him.

    My mind was made up when I spotted a doorway in the same direction, a little further in front. Not knowing what else to do with myself, I headed towards the door. It seemed like a good enough idea.

    As I walked through the doorway, I realised it was the bedroom. The room was considerably dimmer. I was glad not to see candles, because that would have been a little daunting. There was a large, king-sized bed with crisp, white sheets that stood a meter or so to the side of me. It was in alignment with yet another large window.

    I walked over to it, this time I could actually see the gleaming city lights below and the blur of the car lights flying by on the main roads. It looked so beautiful. Like a wasteland of fallen stars. Being up here, so high, everything seemed much smaller than it was down there. Less frightening.