Welcome to the Industry of Porn

Chapter 1: Sticky Fingers

At the age of 21, you found yourself living in an apartment with your college roommate. You had dropped out of college around a month or into the fall semester of your last year. It had taken you that long to call it quits, and it had been stupid, really, but you couldn't take it anymore. Not only the prior year your grades had gone to the floor and you'd fallen into a dark corner in your life that had taken the help of some of your friends and roommate from your first two years had been nice enough to rent you a room. She lived off campus as her parents had given her the money for the first two months, it was up to her to keep on paying it.

Your parents had no clue about your reckless decisions and for the time being you were planning on them not finding out. It was wishful thinking, but that's what kept you going even if as the days passed by it seemed less likely to happen.

Living in L.A was not easy, especially when you had no job and only lived by the money your parents sent every other month to make sure you had enough. They knew you had no job, and they were okay with it because in their mind you were working your butt off. Journalism was supposed to be what you were majoring in, but college had put a dent on the beauty you had seen on it before classes started to make you ill. It was ridiculous to say the least, the amount of stuff you had to submit with barely any time to truly make it happen.

In this city everything was expensive, and it was easy to point out those who could really afford to live here by choice, and those who came here to study. You felt like a fish out of water as you were not a girl from a big city, in fact, you grew up in beautiful small town in Montana. Everyone knew each other, even if you weren't friends with that person, you knew who their cousin Mike was, or you knew if their uncle Bob had gone to prison because he had been drinking and causing mayhem around townhall.

Sure, you missed home, and there was nothing compared to the noise of the small town that even though loud it was familiar and welcomed. But like many of those who only knew that town, you wanted out as soon as graduation came around. You wanted a sense of dependency, but just like everyone else, you had failed to see the reality of making such big change. Even now, after three years in L.A., you didn't regret it—only on those long nights that the silence got too loud for your harsh mind.

But as another dull day in your life after having dropped out, you were sitting in front of your laptop doing nothing but stress over the hopeless job hunt. Most days were like that, staring into the bright screen as the jobs were too demanding of you or not your type of gig. As much as you told yourself to not be picky about the jobs, it was impossible for you to skip past the one in search of servers. You didn't have personal experience, but your friends had enough to warn you off of the nightmare it was.

You swore under your breath as you groaned out your frustration; every job position did end up digging further asked for either some previous experience or a college degree. Fucking hell.

As you rolled your eyes and set your forehead on the desk's border, your stomach gave a growl that made you scrunch up your nose. You had forgotten to eat something after waking up, and now after hours of sitting in search of a miracle, you stomach protested in hunger. With a sigh that escaped you nostrils, you walked out of your small room and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. You stood there for a solid minute before deciding what to eat. Grabbing some wheat bread, you set on a clean plate and went to look for the almost empty container of Nutella and the almond butter. As you spread the almond butter on the bread, you noticed the silence the rest of the apartment had fallen. You were home alone. You had forgotten that Cassie—your roommate—had gone out for her photography class to work on a project for their capstone.

Glancing at the clock on the wall above the counter, you grinned to yourself as you see she won't be back for another hour and a half, thus giving you enough time alone to do what you have been prolonging for a couple of weeks now.