The Performance

The suite was vast. White leather. Chrome. Mirrors on the ceiling. It looked like a stage.

The Amazons marched Becca to the center of the room and let go.

She stumbled, finding her balance on the plush white carpet.

Art was already there. He was sitting in a high-backed chair, legs crossed, watching her.

The thin woman stood next to him. She held a tablet. The screen glowed against her pale face.

Becca wrapped her arms around herself.

-Cozy, she said. Her voice shook. She hated that it shook.

Art pointed a finger at the bed. A massive, circular thing in the center of the room.

-Get on it.

Becca hesitated. She looked at the thin woman.

-With an audience? I usually charge double for---

-You've been paid, Art said. Get on the bed.

Becca swallowed the retort. She walked to the bed and climbed up. The sheets were cold and slippery. She sat on her knees, trying to find a pose that felt powerful.

She fell into the muscle memory. Arched back. Pouted lips. The cam girl special.

-Look at me, Art said.

Becca locked eyes with him.

-I'm looking, Daddy.

-I want the girlfriend, Art said. I want the love. The passion. I want you to tell me how much you need me.

Becca blinked. It was such a pathetic request.

She smiled. She could do this in her sleep.

-Oh, I need you, Art. I need you so bad. You're the only one who---

-Louder, Art said.

Becca ramped it up. She crawled to the edge of the bed. She touched her own breast, dragging a nail down her skin.

-I'm crazy for you. I want your hands on me. I want you to own me.

-Vital signs are flat, the thin woman said. She tapped the tablet. She's lying.

Art nodded.

-She's bad at this.

Becca flushed.

-I'm giving you what you paid for!

Art stood up. He walked to the edge of the bed and loomed over her.

-I paid for Becca Sunshine, he said. -The killer. Show me the hunger.

He unbuckled his belt.

-Convince me, he said. Or the doctor gives you a shot that will make you convince me.

Becca looked at the thin woman.

She looked back at Art. She didn't have to act the hunger anymore. She was terrified of what happened if she failed.

She reached for him. Her hands were trembling.

-I want it, she hissed. Give it to me. Please.

Art looked down at her. He studied her desperation.

-Better, he said.

He grabbed her hair. Yanked her head back.

-Now perform.

Becca opened her mouth. She started the show. But for the first time in years, she wasn't directing it.

She felt like a prop.