The shiny gold Toyota that pulls up in the parking lot is more menacing than it has any right to be. There's a black racing stripe poorly spray-painted over the hood.
Her phone screen lights up with a message from an unsaved number that reads here.
Ochako kicks her sandals on and opens her front door to walk downstairs. When she gets closer, she notices the curb rash on every rim and a skateboard deck installed as a spoiler.
The window rolls down to reveal a blonde with oil-colored eyes. She's confused for a second. She was honestly expecting some homely, desperate guy.
"Are you Denki?" she asks, unconvinced that a boy this good-looking has any trouble getting laid.
"Yeah," he says and then takes an appreciative glance at her. "And you're—?"
"Yeah." she nods.
He nods back, giving her another admiring look. "Hey, you know, you're actually pretty cute." he says and Ochako thinks he's sweet for all of two seconds before he asks, in the very same breath, "How much for head?"
Now she knows why he's here. It's because he's a tactless shithead.
"Three hundred dollars." she responds.
"Shit," he looks away, rubbing the edge of his nose, "Dollars? You were serious about the currency exchange?"
"She's charging in dollars?" she hears another voice from inside the car before the backseat window rolls down, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" another blonde barks out.
Ochako only gets a few moments to look at his angry scowl and mussed hair before the window rolls back up.
"I'm sorry," Denki sighs, clicking the lock. "He's…" he trails off as he shakes his head in irritation.
"We don't know what's wrong with him." a dark-haired boy who's riding shotgun confesses.
"She's charging three hundred bucks for a blowjob and you assholes think I'm the one with the problem?" the boy snaps.
"Shhhh," the dark-haired boy hisses, "Shut the fuck up."
"Just ignore him," Denki says, redirecting his attention back to her. "So, what else do you do?"
"Um." she mumbles. She's just about do anything for money but these guys look like they'd push their luck with that. "Protected sex for five-hundred."
"Five-hundred?" the boy in the back's gravelly voice remarks, "What kinda million-dollar pussy does she have?"
Denki unhooks the fuzzy dice from the rear-view mirror and flings them behind him. "Shush."
The redhead in the backseat claps his palm over the rude boy's mouth and smiles apologetically.
"And..." the dark-haired boy says, "We have to wear a condom?"
"Yes."
One of the guys actually asks, "Why?"
"Yeah," Denki says, "Don't you take care of like, that stuff?"
She rolls her eyes. "I like to be ten thousand percent sure I'm not having some scumbag's baby. I go on the pill, you wear a condom. No exceptions."
The redhead nods. "Fair."
"So…" Denki drawls, "What else do you do?"
She blinks. "That's it."
Nodding to himself, Denki catches his bottom lip between his teeth and exchanges a look with the guys in the car before turning back to her.
"And I'm guessing you don't do like… student discounts or anything?" he asks around a sheepish grin. The rest of his friends start snickering.
Her toenails scrape against the cheap film of her sandals when she curls her toes. "No."
He seems to notice her impatience. He fiddles with his earring.
"Look, baby, I don't doubt you're a good fuck, but you're asking for too much." he explains, "Like waaay too much."
Ochako frowns at a stop sign down the street.
She isn't about to sell herself short for a bunch of broke college kids. Not when there are other people willing to pay a lot more for a lot less. She knows girls who make guys pay them in designer bags and vacations to uncharted islands before they ever let them cop a feel. So, fuck these guys. They can't convince her to undervalue herself.
"Those are my prices. If you can't afford it, go somewhere else." she mutters, turning on her heel.
"Hey," Denki calls, more pleading than angry. "Wait—hold up!"
"Nobody said they can't afford it," the dark-haired boy insists.
She looks back over her shoulder and watches Denki reach for his juul and take a long rip to recollect himself. She turns as the vapor billows out of the window and she's met with the artificial scent of berries. "Sorry," he coughs, "You wanna hit?"
She shakes her head. "No thanks."
"Okay, so, five-hundred for a fuck and three-hundred for a blowjob, right?" he recaps.
She nods. "Right."
"What else do you do?"
"That's it." she repeats firmly.
"No threesomes?"
The idea of bringing one stranger up to her apartment is already jarring. Two would be too much.
She shakes her head accordingly.
"So…just oral and pussy?"
"Yes." She says. He needs to stop asking. She can't believe these assholes chose him as their mouthpiece.
He looks back at his friends, then clears his throat. "Would you be willing to consider—?"
"No."
"Alright, alright," he concedes, putting his palms up. "Was asking for a friend. Sheesh."
She folds her arms over her chest.
Denki sighs out and taps a purple fingernail on the steering wheel.
"Man," he mutters, eyeing her up and down. "How much for a titty-fuck?"
She blinks. She's never priced that because no one's ever asked for it before.
"One-fifty." she blurts.
"Oh, really?" he beams, "And I can bust on your face and everything?"
Damn it. She should've gone higher. "No. facials are a hundred extra."
He sucks his teeth. "Damn." he hums, then his eyes light up. "Could you turn around for me? Like do a quick spin?"
She tugs the jaw strings of her hoodie tighter around her neck and clenches her jaw. "No."
"Alright," he shrugs, putting his car in reverse. "Stay still. Seriously, don't move."
Her brows furrow. She stays in place out of curiosity, not obedience. "...Why?"
Denki glances at the rearview once more before accelerating backwards. Ochako watches in stunned interest as he backs up for fifteen feet and puts the car back in drive, racing towards her. For a moment she thinks he's actually going to run her over, but the car makes a sharp turn just a few meters away and does a donut around her.
She hears some yelling from inside the car, Denki laughing, and the rude blonde swearing in the back. The car brakes with a sharp screech back to where it was.
Denki grins at his friends in the mirror. "You guys get a good look?" he asks.
"Shut the fuck up."
"Don't ever try that shit again. You could've given me a concussion."
"Or killed the girl. You oughta have your license revoked."
Ochako listens to them idly. These guys were a waste of time. She's about to go back inside, when the boy riding shotgun waves at her.
"Here," the dark-haired boy tells her, "Put your number in."
The blonde relays the phone to her. Another guy passes her his phone with a shy smile. "If you don't mind," he says.
Soon, she's holding three different phones. They're heavy in her hands. Ochako doesn't know why her first instinct is to smash them all on the asphalt under her. All these guys have the latest iphone and they really have the nerve to complain about her prices. She pushes down the urge to vandalize their shit and does what she's told before passing them all back.
The redhead looks down at his screen. "Uravity?"
"Kinda dumbass name is that?" the blonde beside him asks.
Ochako ignores them both. They're crazy if they think she'll give them her real name.
"I'll, uh," the dark-haired boy clears his throat. "Text you, okay?"
"Okay."
"And I get paid tomorrow," Denki says, "So I'll let you know if anything."
"Alright." she says, ready to head back upstairs.
"Wait," Denki calls, "One more thing."
She looks over her shoulder. "Yeah?"
He leans his arm out the window and tilts his head to the side. Maybe that's why his grin looks so lopsided. "How much for a kiss?" he asks.
She hasn't priced those. She usually dodges them from her clients. She can't actually remember the last time she'd kissed somebody.
She takes a step forward, just to get a better look. She has to admit he's a cute boy. Clean hair, pretty eyes, nice smile.
"Those are free," she says and leans in for a kiss.