Drop Dead Gorgeous (YoungWritersPrize)

My Safe Place

»Yeah…« I crossed my legs, moving around, uncomfortably. »How long have you, um, have this job?« I started pattering against the cup with my nails, nervously.

»For about,« He stopped for a second to think. »two years, I think.«

»Since you were fourteen?«

»Actually since I've been fifteen, but I'm gonna be seventeen soon. So it's actually been almost two years.«

»How many…How many wom…clients did you have?« I asked cautiously.

»Just one. She's old and lonely. And rich. She gave me a lot of money…for that.« He bit his lips, his eyes moving in all directions, like they were looking for a way out. »I was the lucky one.«

»What?«

»I mean compared to the others. My fellow co-workers. They have to work with a lot of clients, for a small amount of money…I'm…I am not that bad looking,« He sadly smirked. »so I managed to get a rich and permanent client. Beginners luck, I guess.« He did look really gorgeous. If you didn't knew him, you could've easily mistaken him for a model. He looked like somebody carved him from marble. Like he was a piece of art, which came alive and escaped his master artist.

»What…What is she like?« I tried to erase that memory of her and Lucas. I didn't want to have an image inside my mind of Lucas kissing someone else. It hurt too much.

»I don't know,« He sighed, leaning back in his chair, looking obviously uncomfortable. »all I know is that she's filthy rich. And her last name. Mrs. Jackson or something.«

»Is she married?«

»Don't know.«

»How old is she?«

»Old.«

»How often do you two…met?« Hard to find the appropriate phrase.

»Once every two months. I guess.«

»How much does she pay you?«

»Enough.«

I swallowed. »What about…STD's?«

»I use protection. Besides, she demanded I get tested before…you know. And she seems clean. I mean she seems to be very hygienic, she wears Prada and Louis Vuitton and shit like that…«

»Okay, okay I get it.« I growled from discontent. I really hated listening to this. But it was necessary evil. »What about other jobs?«

»They don't pay enough. At least part time. The rent of this shit-hole is fucking crazy…And if I would work all the time, I'd get kicked out of the school. And I would get stuck in a dead end job. In this shitty apartment. Well, at least until I was eighteen. My job…is the only thing that covers the rent. But, I won't do it anymore. For you.« He said.

»Lucas,« I started. »I need time. From all of this. I need to get my head together.«

»I understand. I'm not…I'm not forcing you to do anything. You don't owe me anything. I just…it's a promise, if you'll have it.« He mumbled. He seemed so scared. A side of Lucas I've never seen before.

I nodded.

»You must think I'm a freak.« He painfully laughed.

»No,« I shook my head. »I don't think that. Besides, if you're a freak, then I'm a freak.« I smiled back, with sadness in my heart, lifting up my wrist, shoving him the shameful scars of sorrow.

»No, don't compare your secret with mine. Yours is not disgusting like…mine. Yours is horrible, but…you won't do it anymore. Because you promised.« He said softly.