The Client

chapter 4

I took the bag from her and marched out of the store. That was awkward.

I spent the remaining hour left in the bathtub. Sliding into the water, I let it block the sounds around me. The bathtub felt like it would go as farther as I would want it to. Doing a job I do, I never really get time myself. I wake up; cleanse myself for the first client of the day. Let him fuck me. Then scrub the remains of the man so my body is spotless for the next man to fuck me. The cycle repeats. It never stops. Just lying here, idle, without having to think of anything, felt like I was in some deep slumber, only in an exclusive seven-star hotel with more than a hundred options I can choose, from regulating the water temperature, pressure, soaps, shampoos, scents, oils, and massaging sponges. This day was a much-needed break I yearned. The fact that he booked me for two nights was actually a blessing in disguise. It was pure bliss.

I stepped out on the mat, the heaters came on to blow dry my body. Instead of struggling with knots in my wet hair, I merely pressed a button on a box that sent a current through my scalp drying my hair almost instantly. It floated down up to my shoulders in a glossy curtain. I grasped the fresh set of white robe in the washroom and secured it around my body. I twisted the knob of the door and let it open. I spotted the infamous Vice-Captain of the Indian Cricket team back in the room, with his back against me. He pressed a button on his phone and it seemed like he just got off a call.

"Oh, you're back so soon?" I implored.

He turned in my direction.

"I was late by an hour," he said.

"Oh, probably I lost track of time. It was too good a bath."

"Did you like it here?"

"Yeah, it's a nice place, Mr.Abhimanyu Raghavan," I emphasised on his name.

"So you've learnt my name, I see?"

"I've learnt more than just your name."

"I told you, I'm irresistible."

"The waiter wanted to take a selfie with you. And probably I wondered a little too loud why he would want a picture with an obnoxious asshole like you. He then just let it slip," I explained, walking to the couch.

"You seriously didn't have any idea about who I was?"

"No. I didn't. Even you played along."

"I didn't want to spoil it. Your reaction would have been priceless."

"Bad you missed it."

"But seriously, do you not read the news at all?"

A flash of annoyance hit me.

"I'm sorry I don't spend my time in the sports section."

"So you're not into sports?"

It got to me like wet spitballs in my hair. We didn't have the sources to know what was happening in the world. Most of the times, we are just focused on moving on from some physical assault or molestation by a senseless client. We just keep pushing through each day hoping we'll get to that day when we can finally flee the brothel.

"I'm sorry if my life has been all about fucking one man after another and making it to the next day. For a life like this, I can warrant you that I won't need to know about sports," I spat.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I understand where you're coming from."

I took a deep breath, "it's alright," I said.

"Order anything you want for dinner. Just call a caesar salad for me. I'll be back after a shower." He shut the door to the washroom behind him, and a few seconds after which I heard the water flowing.