asbvlsvrignefdrv I love this chapter. And it's the longest! :D That is all.

Oh, by the by, I hope everyone realized that 'uni' is the short form of 'university'. I forgot to mention it earlier ^^' (Also, random, but it's the Estonian for 'sleep' as well :D)

Tenth Entry

November 4th, Thursday, 11.51 PM

Dear diary,

Almost two weeks have passed by since my last entry and I still haven't spotted the video anywhere on the Internet. What are they waiting for? I've already gotten used to the fact that people view me as a man-whore and they aren't even wrong anymore. Thank Kakuzu. I got 'promoted' as he put it.

The night I went to club Venus (that's the name of the place I work at) all covered in bruises, yeah, he was really mad. Said he would've beaten me up also, if only bruises didn't take so long to heal. But then after the show, his mood had completely changed and he had that look on his face as though he wanted to hug me or something. It was creeping me out. When I went to get my money from him, I also asked what had happened.

As it turns out, there are a lot of perverted freaks among the audience. A LOT. And they all enjoyed the sight of an anorexic, beat up (the bruises showed extra well on my pale skin) young man (some called me a boy) dancing for them. And they'd made offers with BIG money.

Kakuzu didn't exactly give me a chance to choose, so now I'm a prostitute. In addition to a stripper and a general screw-up. Ain't life wonderful? I've been 'delivered' to the customers' places wearing female clothes (including cheerleaders' outfit and school uniform), lace, FUCKING BUNNY EARS, lingerie, ANIMAL CLOTHES and a lot more I'd rather not talk about. It's insane!

Even though customers aren't allowed to 'rape' me, sometimes they want me to ACT as though I'm being raped. Also, I had no idea so many people liked BDSM.

I'm glad for a few things though… firstly, it pays even more than stripping (yay!) and secondly, I'm not a female and not gonna get pregnant. One has to learn to see the bright side of things, right? Well, my life atm is as bright as an overcooked egg, but I have to live it, since it's the only one I have. Right?

I often feel like I'm all alone in this world. And then I facepalm myself, because I realize that it's the truth. Still I can't help but wonder whether there's something good on its way and I just have to be patient enough. Like after a dark and cold night, there's always a sun that rises and lights up the place.

I know what you're thinking. Did I hit my head somewhere? Because I don't sound like me at all. But I think it's because of him. And no, I'm not talking about Itachi. I know I had a crush on him, but it would never work out. Not with me being a whore and all. He'd never understand and would never want me. After all, why would he even care to understand if I haven't talked to him once?

But there's this other guy. A customer. I was surprised when for once, I wasn't asked to wear some weird costume. The order was 'to dress up like I normally dress when I go outside'. Skinny jeans, random t-shirt, hoodie and a black-eyeliner it was! I made a mental note to thank the customer for it later.

I took a taxi. He lived in a private house. Two-storey, lofty and elegant. Even though it was dark outside, the moonlight shined in from the French windows, making the atmosphere kind of… magical and amazing, y'know?

And for once I met a customer who was nice, in the most literal sense of the word. When I was dropped off there and knocked on the door, the first thing I remember after he'd opened the door was his bright smile. He looked young – a nice change from 30-40-year-olds – and handsome. He had red hair and brown eyes (I love brown eyes) and was dressed casually, but definitely in high-quality clothes.

One question instantly popped into my mind then – why would someone like him order a whore? He could get all the girls he wanted! Or all the boys, if he preferred males! Why pay for it?

He invited me in and I can't tell you how surprised I was when he led me to the kitchen-living room, not up the stairs to the bedroom! The customers usually want to get straight to it, since the longer I am there, the more they have to pay.

He sat me down on the couch, moved to the refrigerator and asked whether I wanted anything – tea, coffee, food? I declined (politely). He smirked and said that I didn't look like I didn't want anything. He said I looked so skinny that he suspected I was anorexic.

Now, if we go with the whole you-better-not-judge-me thing again, I'll admit he really pissed me off there! I turned around, bringing my legs up onto the couch as well and glared at him and kinda shouted. I think. Was it that loud? It went something like this: "No shit I look unhealthily skinny, but I am NOT an anorexic! You think I'd do something like this to my own body by choice? I don't have money for more food! Why else would I fucking work as a whore?"

So it wasn't that polite. Fuck that.

The weird part was that he remained calm this whole time and didn't seem annoyed in the least by the fact that a complete stranger – and a whore at that – had just yelled at him in his own house. What he did was that he tilted his head to one side and asked: 'Why decline then?'

That made me shut up. I just stared at him for a minute or two, before crossing my arms and turning away again, saying I'd eat and drink anything as long as it didn't reduce my paycheck.

He gave me a big piece of cake (I LOVE CAKE!) and green tea – after having persuaded me into telling him what kind I preferred. He sat down as well and started a conversation.

(What. The. Fuck. At some point I got the feeling that he'd changed his mind and wasn't going to fuck me.)

He asked me about my life – what I did, where I lived (not the address, but the type of house), etc, about my family and so on.

I don't know why but I answered all his questions truthfully. To be honest, I started to like chatting with him. After gathering some courage, I asked the question that had been bothering me this whole time – why did he choose to pay for whores, if he could have anyone he wanted?

He looked a little surprised at my question. He answered that he didn't choose to pay for whores (questionmark? what was I then?) and that I was the first prostitute he'd ordered. He said he visited the club I worked at a few times a month and I'd caught his eye. That was it, he gave me no further explanations.

Once I'd finished eating, I thanked him (politely) for the food and offered that I could wash the dishes for him. He declined. I still took my plate and mug and his glass and headed for the sink, ignoring him when he said he was serious and that I shouldn't bother. Pfft. I didn't even do this for him. I did it for myself so I'd feel like I'd repaid him for treating me so nicely.

I'd just dried off his glass when he sneaked up on me and hugged me from behind. I almost dropped his glass and let out a scream. Damn. He really scared me! I felt his lips press against my neck and ear and he whispered my name before telling me that his name was Sasori.

One name never to be forgotten, mark that!

I shivered (why did his hands feel so good around me?) and asked why I needed to know that. (He was the first one to introduce himself.) He said that he wanted to hear me scream it out loud later. Guess he hadn't changed his mind after all.

It was a long foreplay, but I enjoyed every second of it. He carried me to his bedroom (weird fetish?). It was dark there, except for the moonlight. I thought it was perfect. His kisses and bites covered every single inch of my neck, shoulders and chest. When our lips locked, it truly felt like heaven! There were no vibrators, no cockrings or handcuffs. It actually felt like making love.

When we kissed, we constantly changed positions. Me on top, him on top, and then me again. When I rode him, he told me I was the most beautiful thing in the world. I guess it was only pleasure speaking, but at that moment, it only made everything so perfect.

We went on for many rounds and I remember wishing I'd never have to do it with anyone else, only him. I loved the way he looked down at me briefly with lust in his eyes before crashing our lips together again, the way he pumped my shaft and felt inside of me. His lips, his eyes, his tongue, his arms, his face, HIM.

When we finally finished, the bed was a slight mess – cum everywhere! He said he'd pay me double if I stayed till morning. I didn't even need him to add the money to want to stay there! I agreed, but said that I had to be in uni at 11 o'clock. He said he could drop me off.

He changed the sheets. I helped as much as I could, but mostly he just wanted me to sit there and watch. When he was done, he found a pair of boxers and a loose t-shirt for me. He slept naked above waist. I swear he was doing it to tease me!

That could be marked as the best night of my life. Sleeping in his arms is probably the closest I will ever get to heaven. I don't mind. To top it off, there was silence! No ear-shattering music, no drunk people yelling.

But the truth is everything good has to end sometime – that's exactly how much life sucks. I hadn't had proper sleep for ages, so it's logical I slept LONG. I was woken up at 10.38. He brought coffee to bed for me! How could anyone act so caring towards a random, expensive whore?

He told me to take my time and that I could use his shower if I wanted and that it was only a 10-minute drive to the uni, so I had plenty of time. And indeed, I did make it on time. It's a little ironic how the saddest moment – when I had to leave his car – followed the most perfect night of my life. I wanted to kiss him goodbye – God knew that wasn't the only thing I wanted to do, but let's leave it at that – but I was too big of a coward for that. After all, it was only I who felt that way. I was just a stripper to him.

At uni, when I opened my bag, I found the cash – double price – and a chocolate bar waiting for me with a small note that read 'I hope this helps you gain weight. Even the most beautiful angel looks better healthy. – Love, Sasori'. I stapled that note to this page.

And suddenly I felt like crying right there in the uni, in front of all the other students. Maybe even in front of the bastards who'd filmed me, if they happened to pass by. Suddenly I wished I hadn't met Sasori and that he would've been just another perverted and a little lonely 40-year-old. Then I wouldn't have so many regrets. Then I wouldn't long for something I could never have. Then I wouldn't have a reason to live. I wouldn't feel like I was leaving something behind if I tried to leave.

Ever since I've bought that same chocolate bar every day. A little obsessive, I know. I never claimed to have a sane mind.

Now that my bastard neighbors have started the party again and made it impossible for me to sleep, I'm going to finish my assignment for the uni. We had to paint a portrait. Yes, it's a total coincidence that the person I painted has red hair and muddy brown eyes.

Bye now,

Deidara

P.s. Song of the day – Was it a dream? (by 30 Seconds To Mars)