Dascha Polanco stares down at her phone and groans a little, seeing no notifications. Working in a petite little coffee shop isn't necessarily her idea of a good time. However, it's on her college campus, and it's providing her with just enough money to get by throughout each week.
Her main concern right now is from the fact that she's experienced a run of bad luck recently, and if she doesn't come up with some more money soon, her landlord will kick her ass out of the apartment she's currently settled in.
Along with that, the visit she had to the hospital recently had completely drained her of her funds, and now she owes both the hospital and her landlord some money.
Not to mention that it's a whole new school year, so brand new books still have to be purchased.
The more she thinks about the money she owes, the more she breaks out into a sweat. 'Life isn't supposed to be this complicated.'
College should be the best time of her life. Instead, it's starting to turn into a disaster just past the halfway mark.
Pocketing her phone for now, Dascha steps up to the main counter with a fake smile on her face as she begins to take orders from the long queue of clients. It looks genuine, as if she's actually glad to be there.
Well, despite everything, at least she knows how to make a good cup of coffee.
Still, in the back of her mind, she wonders if anyone will ever even consider her. Signing up for this website took really big guts from her.
Well, actually, she didn't have much of a choice. Though, she did hear a couple of girls giggling about the site in her class, and she was becoming deseparate.
She recently signed up on a sugar daddy website: sugarsweetz.com. It's basically an online dating forum, only that she knows straight away it'll all lead to sex if she gets contacted.
She's read through all of the information and guidelines—it's safe, consensual, and it's demanded that both parties' first meeting is to be in a public place as per all the agreements on the website.
Now, she doesn't know if anyone really follows these rules—she only knows that she's going to.
However, she has an uneasy, sorrowful feeling that no one may really end up choosing her. She's the only, well, more fuller woman on the website. And believe her, she's checked.
The truth is, though, one part of her wants the help, seeing as she needs the money, but the other part of her doesn't want anyone clicking on her name.
Obviously, with the site, an older man would pick her—that is, if any older man picks her—and then she'd give him access to her body for said money. Some may see her as a whore for this.
'Well, hey, if I am one to some people, at least I'm a selective one.'
She plasters on a smile again as a man approaches her at the counter.
"A latte. No sugar. Quickly."
Yes, there are some customers who can be a bit rude or snappy, but sometimes, she doesn't blame them. They've got places to be and things to do. She doesn't ever let the small stuff like that get to her. So, smiling still, she nods, makes his coffee quickly, puts it front of him, tells him the price, collects his change, and hands him some money back for the slight overpay, which is normal.
At least she won't be selling her soul or her virginity. Especially her virginity. That's been long gone. It left her when she had gone to her high school prom.
The girls she heard giggling in class had mentioned how they'd been drowning in some debt. But, with a couple of dates, the men they'd serviced had made it possible for the two of them to get out of that debt pool and start saving up that dough.
Having heard them, Dascha wanted to get out of debt now, too. She needed to start getting money to save up. That way, she could have as much money as she could get to pay off her student loans.
She gets mentally sorrowful again. 'There's no way a man will wanna pick me.'
She and her mindset are used to men she's been around romantically before—they typically realize halfway through dating her that they didn't want the fuller, curvier, or, as some deemed her, plus-size. No.
They didn't mind the big breasts and ass of hers, but they'd rather have more slender girls, especially those with the same attributes that act as a bonus.
Dascha's bottom half fits into a size eighteen in pants and shorts and whatnot, and her breasts are large enough to where she always has to go a size up so her tops and bras don't create that little gap in the chest area.
'Wait. Say I do get chosen by someone... Am I actually able to go through with this?' Right from the start, as she's read already, she knows her and the said man are going to have sex.
By the end of her shift, she's so damn close to removing her name from the website. Grabbing her large book bag, she leaves the coffee shop and walks to her apartment.
She doesn't even take a glance at her phone the whole way there. She refuses to see if some man even wants her.
Putting herself out on the line like this didn't exactly cheer her up. It's been one week since she signed up, and she's gotten nothing.
Her inner critic starts to talk her down. 'Just goes to show that mom and dad were right. You're not worth anything, and no one's ever going to want you.'
She exhales through her nose, pushing away the depressing thoughts before she arrives at her apartment. She sees a sign posted on the front door. It's a paper from the landlord, letting her know he's looking for her.
Taking it from the door, she opens up the letter and sees the final warning. If she doesn't hurry up and pay the backdated rent soon, he'll have no choice but to evict her.
Resting her head against the door, Dascha pounds her hand against it in an upsetting manner. How could all of this happen to her in such little time?
During her freshman year of college, she had been flying high in her own success. She had a full scholarship, she was away from her family that did nothing but criticize her, and she had a job. She'd made it.
One year of success, however, had shifted into a sophomore year of bad luck. That full scholarship has now downgraded to only partial coverage, so she's had to start using her own money to fund her college expenses. While that wasn't too bad for her in the beginning, what made it all dive into a downward spiral was the sickness she got that had sent her to the hospital. Then, from the visit there, she got a bill from them.
Now, it's her junior year, and she's drowning in so many issues.
Opening her front door, she heads inside and locks the outside world away with the flick of the door lock. She switches on the lights and heads to the kitchen to pull out a packet of ramen noodles. Although they're not too appetizing to her, and sometimes they make her feel sick, they actually help her calm down and think a little at the end of the day.
Besides, they're also cheap, and they save her quite a bit of money.
As the noodles warm up in the microwave, Dascha's phone beeps. Pulling it out of her pocket, she sees that it's a notification from sugarsweetz.com. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she opens her eyes back up, clicks on the notification, and the site opens up.
The site states to her: "You have been noticed!"
She logs into her account, going into the DMs to see if anyone has legitimately messaged her.
Sure enough, there was a message in her inbox. Before she goes to read it, however, the microwave beeps. She sets her phone down momentarily to grab her ramen bowl and stir it with her fork. She then takes her phone back, and along with her noodles, goes and takes a seat in a chair near her pile of books.
Twirling the fork in her bowl, she slurps up some noodles and clicks on the message in her DMs to read it to herself.
'Hello. I like your picture. I was wondering if you'd like to meet up. I'm not a man looking for love—just a good time.'
She stares at the message for a couple minutes, becoming unsure of what to say. There's also not much information from this man's profile—there's not even a profile picture or a name. Instead of a name, in fact, there's a description in substitution: Sugar Baby Wanted.
Biting her lip, she decides to text back. 'When would you like to meet?'
The point of the website was to meet the said men who had the means of taking care of the said woman. That was what Dascha read, and also heard from the girls in her class. Her heart races as she waits for a response.
And she doesn't have to wait long. Her phone beeps soon enough.
The location this man gives her is, in fact, the campus coffee shop, where she works. Her heart races once again.
"Oh shit," she mutters and runs a hand down the side of her face, wondering what the hell she's going to do. What if this guy is a stalker looking for his next victim, and she's it?
Time passes quickly, and another text from the man comes in.
'As bizarre as this sounds, this campus' coffee shop serves the best stuff. I love me a good cup of coffee, and if it would also help you to feel better, how about we meet at lunch when it's super busy?'
Releasing a breath, Dascha decides that she's going to have a go at it. There's really nothing else she can do. That letter on her door was the final straw. The landlord has already told her before that if any more letters appear in her future, then he would be forced to kick her out.
She texts the man back, replying with, 'Sounds good.'