Hey guys, this is my very first fanfiction that I wrote allll the way back in my sophomore year of high school. I am now in my third year of college. This is a one-shot of Sunny and her backstory, a long time before she met Holden. Told from Sunny's point of view. Please feel free to review and leave some constructive criticism! Keep in mind, I wrote this when I was 15, but I'm open to make changes to make this better!

P.S. I'm also thinking about writing a completely revised, more in-depth version of Sunny's backstory. If anyone shows interest in this, I may end up writing it!

Disclaimer (do I really have to do these?): I do not own The Catcher in the Rye or any characters pertaining to it.

Sunny's Story

When I first started out in New York, I didn't plan on being a hooker, or a tramp, or a slut, or whatever you wish to call me, because hey, that's what I get paid for. No, to be honest, in the beginning I was just a bright eyed dream chaser, and when you're from Hollywood, you dream big.

However, waiting for your dreams to come true ain't as easy as it seems, especially in a city like this. So, I figured I would work my way up from the bottom. I dropped outta school, ran away from that sorry excuse of a home and that damn drunkard of a mother and that damn lazy assed-pig step-father of mine.

At first it was all great. I stayed with a friend, I had saved money, and took whatever money I had in my small college fund and helped pay rent for our ratty apartment. I even got a job at a local diner just to pay for groceries and all, but soon, our money was going down the drain. That so called "friend" of mine would drink it away with her dumb college friends. That's where my predicament really began.

My so called "friend" often had a get togethers with her dumb college pals, and one night, one of the guys cozied up to me, and asked me for a good time for twenty bucks. I was low on money, and I didn't know what else to do. He was much larger than I was, and you can guess where everything led after that.

Shortly after that fiasco, I got fired from the diner, and to make matters worse, my roomie kicked me out.

"You're nothing but a damn trouble kid, stop whoring around and grow the hell up," was the last thing she said to me. That was the last I ever heard or saw of that old bag.

I was on the streets for about a week and a half, I hadn't made any cash in this time, so I thought I would try hanging around this one sleazy bar; that's where I met Maurice, a well known pimp around these parts, and I'm pretty sure he knew the reason I was there that night.

He spotted me, offered to buy me a drink, I ordered a dry martini. The bartender looked at me a bit weird, I think he was wondering about my age, so I said, "See something you like sweetheart?" and gave him a flirtatious wink. He sputtered and scampered off.

I heard Maurice chuckle, "You got ways with men, that's for sure. Now, I've got a little proposition for you, how would you like to live in a nice place, hey, a hotel called the Edmont, and you'll get to wear fine clothes and all of that stuff you women like these days?"

I thought about this, it would be nice to get off the streets, not scrounging around for a meal, and ways to make cash. "I'm listening," I said.

He smiled a big toothy smile, showing off his nasty yellow teeth. "How would you like to work for me? The way it works is we split the cash you get after each joy ride you give. We get the cash, and you get a roof over your head, how's that sound?" I think Maurice was giving me what was a supposed encouraging warmhearted smile, but to me it just seemed like he thought he was gonna get a lucky deal off me.

I thought about all of what Maurice said, some of it sounded real swell, you know about the having a place to stay, nice clothes and all of that. Besides, it's not like I haven't done all of that stuff before, why should this be any different? The only change would be a more consistent wad of cash coming my way. I looked Maurice in the eye and said, "You better make sure that I get that other half of cash."

Maurice gave me another ugly smile, stuck out his hand and said, "Pleasure doing business with you, uh..."

I rolled my eyes. He hadn't even asked for my name yet, let alone my age either. "Sunny," I said, "and how 'bout ya get me another drink, and then we'll shake on it, hey." He pulled back his hand, and nodded with a smirk on his face.

That night I was fully initiated into the business of being a hooker for the Edmont Hotel, and let me say one thing, it was the worst decision I ever made in my life. To me in a way, it seems as if I had sold my soul to the Devil, and I had no idea how to get out of his grasp.