To Save a Demon

Chapter Two

Selleah's POV

"Selleah? What do you think?" I hear someone say.

I snap out of my dissociation daydream and look up at my professor staring me down.

"I'm sorry, Can you repeat the question?" I sheepishly ask.

I can see the look of disappointment cross his face and then watch it drip into annoyance.

"Please start paying attention. Whoever you're thinking about is not as important as this class. I asked you what you thought about the character's actions in this chapter." he says with irritation in his tone.

"Right. My apologies." I say. I go on to give my answer and then sink into my chair to try and avoid the burning stares of my peers. Why the fuck did I decide to take a 30-person class? I try to stay awake and attentive for the rest of class but it's hard when you work and go to school. Most of the kids here are trust fund babies and never have to work for anything, and then have the audacity to ask people like me to write their papers for them so they can actually pass the classes they never put effort into. I still do it; just charge them a premium. School isn't difficult for me, so I'll gladly write another final for an easy $100 per page. They'll pay it too because they'd rather be partying and fucking their best friends' boyfriends and girlfriends.

The class couldn't have ended fast enough. As I try and scurry out of the classroom, I hear my name just as I hit the door frame.

"Ms. Bryne. Please stay for a few minutes." calls out my professor.

I turn back and slowly walk toward the front of the class. I can feel the butterflies jump around my stomach with every step that I took. I never usually get myself into trouble. I can feel my anxiety rising from the pit of my stomach through my veins. As I walk up to his desk, he stops packing his bag and looks at me with a mixed look of concern and excitement.

"Yes?" I say slowly, as if afraid of the words coming out of my mouth.

"Are you doing okay? You seemed to be out of it these past few days?" he says, with the same look burning through my face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just work a lot and haven't been getting much sleep lately with finals and all."

"Where do you work?"

"Um. I waitress and bartend at night at Esposito's."

"Ah. I love them. Is that all you do?" he says with a slight glint in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't underst-" I start to say.

"Cut the shit." He says as he starts to move around his desk.

I take a step back as he starts to move toward me. Fuck. He knows. The anxiety starts to throb through me and a ball forms in my throat like I am going to cry.

"I know that you go on dates with men at night." he takes a few more haunting steps toward me and sits on the ledge of his desk right in front of me. "How do I know, you might ask? Well, I myself like to hire pretty girls to take out and keep me company. And guess to my surprise who was recommended to me by a friend? You."

The ball starts moving closer and my eyes are fighting the tears; trying not to cry or show fear, I take another step back.

"I was surprised to find this out. Selleah? No. Not the quiet, pretty girl in my class. He told me though he was disappointed that you don't provide any other services, he was quite intrigued by you and said he would definitely book you again. Now. I would like to make you an offer. Come on a date with me for say 1k. If things go well, I'll give you more money to come home with me. It should be easier for you since you know me, right?" he offers.

He reaches forward and grabs my hands. I am looking down trying to process what the fuck is going on. Who the fuck? How the fuck? As I am racing through memories and scenarios in my mind, trying to figure out who he knows and how I am going to reject him without sacrificing my grade, he puts his hand underneath my chin and lifts it up to eye level. He stares at me in my eyes, as if he could sense my fear. He was definitely trying to intimidate me. I hate when men try to scare you into doing what they want. It made my anxiety turn into anger. I grab his hand and lower it from my face. I take another step back and stand up straight. I grab his hand and notice he has a wedding ring on. This infuriates me. At least take off your ring and hide it if you're going to be a fucking pig.

"I appreciate the offer but, I really can't. I don't have any more time for more dates. Plus, I usually charge more than that. Also, I don't fuck my clients. Especially ones with wives. Thank you, but I am going to pass on your offer. I hope you have an excellent day and I will try to pay more attention in class." I assert.

I start to walk away when I feel two hands on my waist. I rip his hands from me and turn to face him. He now has a look of fear in his eyes. He is afraid of me reporting him probably.

"Wait. I am sorry. Please don't tell anyone. Let's just keep each other's secrets, okay?" he says shakingly.

"Deal. Now don't ever touch me again in your fucking life." I demand.

I march out of the classroom and push the double doors to go outside. I let out a deep breath and let tears run down my face. God Selleah. You got to be more careful. I jump into my car and make the drive back to my apartment close to campus. The entire time, I can't stop thinking about that whole unpleasant interaction with my professor.

Once I get into my studio apartment, I throw my bag on the floor and rush to my fridge. I am usually starving and only have a few hours before I have to go to my shift at the bar. I make myself a quick sandwich and run to the couch to check my dates for the night. I waitress at the bar during the early evening and then depending on the night, I go on escort dates. It's easy money and men will pay anything to have someone to listen to their terrible stories, laugh at their terrible jokes, and inflate their little fragile egos. All the men who buy these dates are the same. Douchebag executives, obviously have no social skills nor the personality to actually get dates with women. They're the scum of the Earth. The reason why I have no problem charging them top dollar for a date.

I have a message from a guy wanting to set up a date for Friday night. He's offering twice my usual fee. He's already sent the payment and seems legit; so I accept. He only wants for three hours, which would give me enough time to come home and catch up on shows I've missed during the week due to work and school.

I get dressed in the uniform slim-fitting black dress that falls right at mid-thigh. I throw on some black tights and some vans. I always like to wear comfy shoes since it's the only thing that I can control about my outfit. I wrap myself up in a cozy scarf and my fav leather jacket. It's not winter yet, but it is still damn cold outside in October. I throw some light makeup on and throw my long curly brown hair in a ponytail, and rush out of the house. Another day, another dollar.