Quizzically Intricate

Hey people. This is my first story, so it might suck.  :P

It's narrated from a guys' point of view. So.. Yeah. It might be pretty weird at times because I don't know how a guy's mind works. lol

But anyhoo! We'll see how this goes.

If there are any problems, errors, or you don't understand something, then feel free to ask/notify me. (But be nice about it. :P) Constructive criticism is appreciated. :)

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Quizzically Intricate // Chapter I

"So five hundred, right?"

"No, it's six." Damn girls. I swear either they're retards who think they could lower my price, or I fuck them good enough they can't think straight.

"Ohh, okay." This girl; her name was Quinn. Like majority of the rest, she was a blond. Petite little girl, looking like she's just finishing up her junior year of high school.

As I finished buttoning my shirt, she handed me the money and I headed straight for the door.

"Wait! You don't want to hang around for a while?" Quinn suggested.

"You paid me to have sex, not hang out," I explained.

"Oh."

"Yeah." And with that, I left.

I climbed into my car and drove off.

' Today was misery,

And I just can't believe this happened,

And I finally broke down,

She held onto my heart,

But now my only star is falling,

Its burning to the ground

Now I'm crying out

Secret love, my escape

Take me far far away

Secret love, are you there

Will you answer my prayer

Please take me anywhere but here

Anywhere but here '

The radio sang.

Songs like this just makes you want to sigh. I listen to the lyrics; it makes me wish that my life would just shift into a normal one. Why? Because. The one I have now is just real shitty.

I'm a seventeen year old boy.

I'm home schooled by my uncle's second wife.

My parents are gone; my dad died at war, and my mom left me when I was a toddler.

My uncle owns this strip club, along with a list of hookers and prostitutes for customers to reserve.

I'm grateful that I don't have any STDs.

I'm a teenage prostitute.

Life's not cool. At least, not for me.

Not now, not in the past, and I'm pretty sure it'll still be crappy in the future.

I pull onto the freeway. One in the morning. Slight traffic.

' ...We're not falling in love

We're just falling apart

So girl let's dance the night away,

This is how the beat goes 

This is how the beat goes