Chapter 10

When he left, I stood there frozen, still naked, my breath caught in my chest like the air was too scared to come in. My whole body was still buzzing. Legs shaky, skin sensitive, tits hard as rocks—any touch felt like a jolt of electricity. My pussy throbbed, hot and red, like it’d been fucked for hours. But it was only twenty minutes. Twenty intense, quick, dirty minutes.

I took a deep breath, grabbed some random towel off the floor, and headed to the bathroom, trying not to look in the mirror. If I did, I’d start overthinking. And I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to wash the cum off my legs, the sweat from my neck, and pretend none of it had happened. But my body wouldn’t let me. It was still pulsing, craving more.

When I got back to the living room, I was hit with the mess. Lights still on, camera hanging crooked, vibrator tossed on the floor right where we walk, where bugs crawl. And Jules? Gone. She must’ve crashed after yelling her lungs out for that guy who was online before me. Didn’t even bother picking up her shit or cleaning the rubber dick she used.

“God, why do I have such a slob for a sister?” I muttered to myself, picking up the dildo with two fingers and tossing it in the sink with a disgusted face.

I started cleaning up on autopilot, still feeling my thighs sticky with wetness. I put away the toys, turned off the ring lights, closed the laptop, and checked the night’s earnings.

When I saw the amount, I froze. Blinked slowly. The screen showed a number that almost hurt to look at.

“Damn… all that?”

It was almost half my salary. In a little over three hours. Three hours of moaning, laughing, faking orgasms, and following ridiculous requests. I stood there, towel still balled up in my hand, trying to figure out what I was feeling.

Joy? Maybe. Relief? A bit. But mostly, frustration.

I spent my whole day dealing with rude assholes, listening to complaints about channels, handing out files, faking smiles to keep my job. And here, a few shakes of my ass, flashing my tits, a good fingering session, and boom: almost half my salary.

The comparison choked me. I thought about the food stipend, the benefits, retirement. I thought about the health plan I never even use. And I hated myself a little for thinking: “I need this shitty job, I can’t quit!”

I wasn’t like Jules.

She was out cold when I left the house. No clue what went down after she went to her room, let alone what I did alone in front of that camera.

It wasn’t until almost noon that my phone buzzed. Her message hit like a slap in the face:

[Jules]: Fuck, slut? What’d you pull in after I left? You made more than me and both of us combined?

I laughed to myself, with that dumb proud grin you try to hide even from yourself.
I remembered the guy from last night. The one from the private. The one who left his number in the chat.

He was hot. Cute, at least. And… polite. I don’t know, he seemed different from the others.

But of course, I’d never have the guts to text him. In his head, I was just another internet whore. He saw me naked, legs spread, faking an orgasm because of him. How do you build anything on that?

I sighed and tried to shove the thoughts to the back of my mind. I needed to focus on work, but Jules wouldn’t let up. It was like she’d woken up in a shopping frenzy. She sent voice note after voice note, all excited:

“Girl, check out this ring light! Some change the skin tone, looks amazing! And the camera? FIVE GRAND, but worth it! And this mic? Two grand, but you can hear the person’s soul. And this LED backdrop that shifts colors? Three grand… but Justy, we’re gonna get rich!”

I laughed and wanted to kill her at the same time. That’s Jules for you. Ten in the morning: sleeping like an angel. Noon: ready to blow twenty grand like we hit the lottery.

But the truth was, she wasn’t wrong.

If Patricia bailed with her stuff, we’d be screwed. And what she loaned us was old crap she didn’t use anymore—nothing worked right, it was just to tide us over. Even the vibrators looked beat from too much use. We really needed to buy everything new.

But Jules was forgetting one big thing: the hospital bill.

I left work early that day and stopped by to see my dad. He was the same. Body there, but his mind seemed somewhere else. My aunt was with him, anxious, worried, rambling nonstop about who was gonna take care of him, who was gonna pay, who was gonna get fucked over.

“I’ll figure it out, Aunt… relax,” I said, trying to sound stronger than I felt.

When I got home, Jules was sprawled on the couch, laptop in her lap, scrolling between pricey gear tabs and endless wish lists. She barely looked up. No “hey,” no “how was the hospital?” Just kept zoning out, like I was background noise in the apartment.

I stuck to my routine without a word. Wiped off my makeup with that same automatic care every day, took a shower, threw on my old t-shirt. When I came back, she was still in the same spot, chewing the end of her pencil and muttering prices to herself.

“Justy, can you go to work late tomorrow? Like, just afternoon?”

“No,” I shot back. “Why?”

“Patricia’s coming by. She wants to do a photo session with us, and it has to be daytime for the light.”

I sighed deep.

“But I gotta work, right? Or did you forget?”

She turned her face slowly, like I’d said something totally stupid.

“What if you quit that job? To really commit?”

I turned to her, still damp from the shower, hair wrapped in a towel, and let out a short, awkward laugh.

“You crazy or what? Do I need to remind you I need the health insurance? That the food stipend buys our groceries?”

She looked down at me with that blasé vibe only Jules could pull off. And she said it like she was spitting out a hard truth:

“And do I need to remind you that in less than a week we’ve already made almost your whole salary… without even knowing what the hell we’re doing?”

It stung.

Because it was true.
And truth from Jules with that dismissive edge hit like a punch.
But no matter how much it hurt, I was still clinging to that job like a security blanket. If anyone saw me out spending more than I should, I could always say: “Chill, I work, I’m a receptionist.” Even if nobody really bought it.

I stayed quiet for a few seconds, then let it out, resigned:

“Set it up with her. I’ll tell work I’m going to the hospital in the morning. We’ll do the photos. And you’ll visit him in the afternoon.”

She smiled, satisfied.
And me… well, I wasn’t even sure anymore if I was giving in… or just starting to like this shit way too much.

“Let me tell you something… there’s a guy out there, totally into you, okay?”

I raised an eyebrow without even lifting my face from the pillow.

“What guy?”

“Some dude named Vitorino.”

I pretended not to know who he was, even though I did. The same one from the private. The cute one. The polite one. The one who dropped his number in the chat thinking he was smooth.

I didn’t want him hounding me, so I cut straight to it.

“You do cam today?”

“I did a bit, but afternoons suck. Like, a hundred bucks or so…”

“Jules, you know people work all day for that, right? You made it in, I don’t know, two hours.”

She sighed, bored.

“I know. But I’m here for the big money, not pocket change.”

I sat up on the couch, tired and still kinda damp from the shower.

“Then hustle, Ju. Just on gear you wanna drop over ten grand. And don’t forget the hospital bill. It’s over a hundred large. We gotta think straight. ‘Cause in this life… it’s just you and me.”

She huffed, flopping back on the couch like I’d dumped a weight on her.

“Fuck… you gonna start playing mom now? For real? I spent the whole day thinking about this stuff, how to make more cash. It’s not like I’m lying around with my legs in the air!”

I took a deep breath. Not the time to fight. The last thing I needed was a war at home. We had enough problems.

She switched tones quick.

“Vitorino… he told you to call him. Said he gave you his number.”

“Probably dropped it in the chat. But I didn’t jot anything down, I was focused on the show.”

“Just be careful with the viewers, yeah? That’s the first thing Patricia told me. If they push too hard or start chatting outside, it could get you banned from the platform.”

That worried me. There was so much in this world I didn’t know, but I liked that he’d reached out. My finger was itching to text him.