God this place is beautiful.
Sitting in this huge four-person tub, soaking away all my worries…
I can believe that women in the past on Earth got married to terrible men they didn't love, just for this. Because if you're going to be miserable anyway, you might as well be comfortable, right?
And if the only way you'd be happy is to fall in love, and your love will be taken from you soon enough anyway because you're poor and maybe he gets sick or falls on the job or…
Isn't it better to just dedicate yourself to a person and enjoy the fact that they have the resources to stay? And the fact that you have a 'contract' helps keep insecurities at bay. After all, if he was no longer into you, he could just say so, couldn't he.
Instead of being frightened of losing ones' place, you could know exactly what that place is and the edges of ones' abilities in that place. You know exactly what lines you can and can't cross when you have a contract. That's one of the things I like best about them.
Stricken with sudden inspiration, I rush out of the tub and into a big fluffy robe.
My hair requires a bit of maintenance to keep it looking as sleek and gorgeous as it usually does. Dry with a towel, give a quick burst of warm air here and there from a hair dryer- not too much.
Add some oils, comb the ends and then apply an actual brush.
At that point, I become aware that I can't just go down to my new 'friend's' apartment- in a robe.
I have to avail myself of the fully stocked closet and drawers in my room, dressing up in the most conservative outfit I have. No point in going down there, looking hot. If I start to present myself as some kind of token prize for the guy, he might start feeling superior to me.
A turtleneck that's a bit baggy, some leggings and a pair of slippers…
When the elevator dings and lets me out on the right floor, I have to stop and wait, because suddenly, I can hear Jack. And I'm a little shocked to be hearing his voice now. When he's not supposed to be here until tomorrow.
No wait. That sound… it's tinny like a recording or a broadcast…
Walking down the hall, I stop at the door to my new 'friend's' apartment.
Jack would call him a 'pet', but Jack is just weird like that.
When I get to the door, it's a bit ajar, and I slowly push it open so that I can see inside. This is all very odd.
"Just remember, vermin man," Jack's voice echoes from the tv in the living room. "Your ass belongs to my Baby Doll. But I'll be the one killin' ya if somethin' goes wrong!"
Just then, the feed cuts out and I'm able to see the guy cowering against the back wall of the room. He probably walked in the door, saw the tv and started shrinking against the wall and walking away from the TV as far as he could.
"Jericho?" I say it as gently as I can but the man still jumps to high heaven.
"Uhhhhh-oh! Ma'am!" he stands up straight and smooths down his shirt. "Uh-I- wh-what did you need, ma'am?"
"Sir," I reply idly. "I prefer 'sir' but… what the hell was that?"
He pales, but admirably keeps his composure. "Yes- s-sir! Um… a w-warning from Handsome Jack. Sir?"
"Ah Jack," I hum in amusement. "Well…do you need further warnings?"
"No sir!" he replies. "I will do my best to serve in whatever capacity you see fit!"
"Alright," I step further into his apartment. "The first thing I need you to do is write me up a contract. And I will be hiring out an independent lawyer to look it over after you're done, so don't write things in Jack's favor to get on his good side, if you please?"
"A-a contract?" he blinks hard. "Wh… what for?"
"A reciprocal relationship," I reply. "He protects and provides for me and I remain loyal to him, providing for all his physical and emotional needs. That kind of thing is common, isn't it?"
Jericho coughs into his fist. "Oh. Uh… yes, sir. I can do that. What are the terms aside from… uh… the usual?"
"I will not contact anyone who hates Jack unless Jack specifies it's alright," I begin. "I will not make plans to meet anyone that hates Jack, unless Jack specifies it's all right. Further, I won't correspond with anyone that makes Jack feel… in any way…"
How to say 'threatened' or 'insecure' without saying the words.
"Uneasy?" Jericho offers.
"Yeah," I reply with a sigh of relief. "In return, I expect no listening devices or cameras. We can put them both in an agreement, wherein he can only place a camera or listening device if I'm to be meeting or speaking with someone he feels uneasy around. And then, only for the duration. I want an equal relationship- or as close to it as I can get."
"Well, uh," he rubs his hands together. "I would recommend more concessions, for the sake of his ego, but…"
"His ego can put forward contract terms with a lawyer like an adult," I reply. "Anyway, there'd be more points to go over, how about we get set up in your kitchen with a data device and you list down everything I want?"
He nods and moves to open one of his moving boxes.
Jack kicked him out of his prior apartment- thankfully he was able to get all his stuff out and move it here instead of needing to buy it all over again.
Sitting in the kitchen at the table, he and I discuss the terms that I want to go over with Jack at some point in the future.
"Uhhh," Jericho stammers over the newest term that I just thought of. "Dress Code?"
"Meaning, what he is 'uneasy' with me wearing in public, versus what he's alright with me wearing at 'home'," I reply. "Sometimes, certain men can get weird about their girlfriends walking around in mini skirts in public. Ordinarily I'd tell them to go fuck themselves, but as we're in a contract relationship, and it's for his own emotional, physical and mental benefit- well, the concessions that need to be made can be talked over before we finish the contract."
"That- that's good," he mutters and scribbles it down on the tablet in front of him. "I don't think I've ever heard of that being part of a contract, though. Too easy to forget and show up in something unacceptable."
"It only pertains to what I should wear around him versus without him," I reply. "So I think it'll be easy to remember, as long as I have two sections in my closet and it's certainly big enough…"
"So, amount of skin showing or which parts he doesn't want shown in public," he mutters. "Versus the dress code at home which is assumed to be anything you want, except for things he absolutely hates."
"He'll be approving all my purchases, so he can just remove whatever he doesn't want me to wear from my shopping lists," I hum and lean back in my seat. "Also add a proviso that my budget will include at least enough to buy a new game, a few outfits and whatever snacks I might want for each month. That's my absolute limit, that's the baseline. I just want to be kept occupied, with a nice place to live and access to a treadmill. I like walking while listening to music and if he's keeping me in a compound, I'll need somewhere to do it where I won't trip over furniture."
"Right, uh…" he blinks, then glances at her. "It sounds like you're intending to live in some kind of… uh. Bunker."
"I am," I reply. "I'm not really a people person. And Jack would probably feel less paranoid if he was in complete control of my surroundings. I know how much danger I'm putting myself in, theoretically…so you don't have to worry about that."
"Right…" he looks uncomfortable for a moment and it reminds me of someone…
"Oh! I was going to ask," I smile and tilt my head. "You remind me of someone, I think I might've known or met at a party once. But I can tell it's not you. I think he wore a similar style of glasses. But I think I remember a sweater vest over a collared shirt or something…"
"There's a lot of people in Hyperion like that, so it's possible," he says and blinks. "Uh. Jack would probably know better than I would."
"Yeah, I'll have to ask him. I think my other self was scouting talent or something. He might like to know about that," I grin.