╰─▸ ❝ @[chapter one] has

. . . . logged on

"

IT'S COLD AS A BITCH OUT HERE."

This was the third time Candy had complained about how cold it was. She was shivering at this point as they sit on the corner, waiting to be picked off by their regulars or the occasional horny 18-year-old, wanting to have their first sexual experience.

Rose couldn't blame her. It was probably 20 degrees out and they wore barely anything. The only source of warmth came from their old fur jackets that they had pulled tight around their bodies.

But beggars couldn't be choosers. There were about 3 or 4 of them sitting on the corner together, all dressed in short, tight skirts and dresses that hug their frame. Anyone with common sense would know that they were prostitutes, ready for the picking by anyone who so pleased.

Sitting on the corner was an old way of doing things, but it was reliable. They had their regulars, an occasional straggler, and sometimes a police officer they could bribe with sex to ignore the fact that they were selling their bodies for cash.

"He's back again." Candy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breast up in her bralette as she watched the familiar silver, 2007 Cadillac drive by for the third time this afternoon.

Rose raised a brow and looked back at the other girls who look on as well, ready to make a run for it. Usually, when a car comes around the block more than twice, that's their queue to leave.

"You think it's a beat cop?" Rose asked, watching as the car finally came to a stop just a little down from where they stood.

A wary look came into Candy's chocolate brown eyes. Her glossy lips twist into a frown. "You can try it, but I say we get the fuck up out of here." She's already taking off her stilts for heels. She was never one to take risks. That's why she's never been arrested.

A smile broke out onto Rose's lips. "Yeah, I guess it's my turn to get the cops off our asses." It was a rotation kind of thing. They all took turns at it. Their payment? Not getting their asses thrown in prison.

So the young woman adjusted her jacket and began walking her way over to the expensive car. It was relatively new too only made last year in 07. It was far too expensive for a beat cop, but who knows? Maybe they were trying different tactics.

She came up to the tinted windows and knocked on the window of the driver's side to get the driver to roll down the window. Hopefully, he was just a straggler, hoping to just test it out before either becoming a regular or never coming back again.

The window rolled down automatically and sitting in the driver's seat was a man. An attractive man, a very attractive man actually with a round face, sharp jaw, and full, pink lips. His nose was flat and bulby and his eyes were monolided, sharp, and piercing. But right now, they looked rather terrified.

A new one.

"Ah, you're not used to this." She verbalizes with a smirk. "You a customer?" Rose leaned against the window right beside the man with a charming smile and hooded lids that scan down his body. She may actually enjoy this one. He was definitely a far cry from the sleazy old men she had to deal with most days.

The man couldn't really look her in the eyes, he was too nervous. He just nodded. That's all Rose needed to go around the front of the car to the passenger seat and hop inside with him.

It was a risky job to be a prostitute, hopping into cars with random strangers. You could get hurt, get kidnapped, killed, raped. Rose had friends that she had never seen again doing this job. But it paid a lot and for people like them, they had to make that money fast.

Rose raised a brow at him when he didn't put the car into drive. "You wanna do it in the back seat?" Sometimes men didn't have time to take her to a hotel room so, the back seat would work, just as long as she was paid, she didn't care.

But the man still didn't speak to her. He shook his head, moving his large hand to the gearshift. He had long fingers that wrap around the handle and thick, prominent arm veins. Rose smiled softly. He was attractive so there must be something wrong with him. Maybe he's a serious asshole, but he seemed awkward, didn't talk to her at all. Maybe he had a really high voice that he was embarrassed about. Or a small dick.

The care ride was silent and awkward, even for Rose who had been in more awkward situations in her 24 years of life than pretty much anyone else.

He brought her to what seemed like a pretty expensive hotel. Well, in comparison to the other rundown motels she's been to, this seemed like a luxury.

Rose got out and closed the door behind herself before pulling her jacket tighter around herself. She turned and looked at the brunette who looked a lot taller now that he was standing up.

He was wearing a white button-up and brown slacks like he had just gotten off from work at some high-end office job. With the Cadillac and the expensive hotel and the fact that he was probably the hottest man, she had ever met. He shouldn't have to pay for sex.

So what was wrong with him?

Rose walks right beside him, her heels clicking against the concrete as they make their way to the entrance. Even wearing six-inch heels, she was shorter than him. He was really tall, but he kept his head low. He didn't talk to her, he didn't look at her.

Maybe he had a wife who wasn't putting out and he was feeling guilty for hiring a hooker. That seemed to be the most realistic option.

They walk into the hotel and make their way towards the elevators. Maybe he was in town for business.

So many theories ran through Rose's mind. How could they not? It was very uncommon for a man like him to want to have sex with a hooker. She was thinking of any reason at all for him to want that, someone society looks down on. They're whore's, dirty and unclean, willing to sell themselves for sex like they had any other options.

When they got to his room, Rose took off her jacket, exposing her already revealing outfit, a tight, hot pink miniskirt, and a pastel pink bralette, decorated with little frills of white lace.

She goes and sits down on the bed, waiting for him to do whatever he needs. He looked like he didn't know what to do. He just kinda stood there.

And then he began to unbutton his shirt. Slowly, his long, slender fingers fumbled with the small buttons in some panicked rush to get them undone.

Rose smiled, laughing softly to herself. "You okay over there?" She asked, standing up from the bed to come over and help him.

Finally, he looked at her, directly at her. His face was flush red, blushing. He looked rather flustered. "I-I'm sorry. I've never done this before." He finally talks to her as well. His voice was deep, smooth like dark, raw honey. Scratch the high voice off the list.

His voice oddly matched perfectly with his face. Rose liked it.

"Hiring a hooker or having sex?" She questioned boldly as he comes over and sat down beside her. His lips pursed softly. "Hiring a hooker." He whispered.

Rose thought he was doing better than most. Most guys would either get two pumps in and be done or they wouldn't even get that far at all and do it in their own pants. He wasn't aggressive, wasn't an asshole, felt like he was entitled to sex.

"I'm Rose."

The brown-haired man looked at her, going to button his half-open shirt back up. He was a bit calmer now. "Namjoon." He responded to her with a small smile.

Rose knew they weren't going to have sex tonight and she couldn't complain. She was in a warm hotel room, off of the cold street where it smelled like trash. At this point, sex was a chore. It was a way to make money to keep herself afloat. There was no pleasure in it and she couldn't remember the last time she had sex for her own enjoyment.

It was uncommon to meet men who just wanted to sit and talk but it happened from time to time. It was a pleasant change. Like a break. Some say you weren't a real hooker until you've gotten a customer who's either started crying during sex or just wanted to sit and talk.

"Well, what's your deal, Namjoon? You gotta wife who ain't puttin' out or...?" She questioned. It was either that or he just wasn't packing. Either or.

Namjoon scoffed and shook his head at the idea. He was only 26. Still young. No time to get married. "No... uh- on my way back home from work, I see you and your friends on the corner...I was just curious." That was the honest truth. When he would drive home from work at night, he would see Rose standing on the corner whether alone or with one of her...co-workers.

He thought she was pretty, so much so that he'd slow down a little when he went down that street just to get a better look. But, Namjoon was always too afraid to stop and talk to her. He didn't want to waste her time or be an inconvenience.

Until now.

"I'm sorry I've wasted your time." Namjoon stood up abruptly. "Uh- how much do you want?" He asked, looking around for his wallet. He felt bad, really bad for taking up the time she could've used to be doing work. He thought he ought to pay her for her time and take her back to the curb where she stood before.

Rose stood up as well, laughing softly. "Well, we didn't do anything. You might as well get your money worth right?" Maybe a simple blowjob would suffice. She came close to him as he found his wallet, her hand sliding down his front and over the buckle of his belt.

Namjoon quickly grew flustered, stepping away from her and her roaming hands. His cheeks and ears grew rosy pink as a blush spread through his heated skin. "No, no. T-that's okay." He fumbled with his wallet before taking out a hundred-dollar bill. "I'll get you a taxi."

Rose stared at him curiously. Well, free money was free money. She might as well take it and go about her way. He was even offering her a free ride home.

Namjoon went and grabbed her jacket for her. "I'm really, really sorry." He murmured softly, shaking his head.

Rose thought he was cute. All flustered and such. He helped her put her jacket on before going to the door to take her back downstairs. This large man, maybe twice the size of her, both in height and width, looking like he wanted to melt into a puddle of goo on the floor.

She pulled her jacket tight around her body and turned back around to grin at Namjoon. "I can do it myself, but I hope I'll see you around Namjoon. You're cute." She reached up and tapped his chin gently before stuffing the hundred in the pocket of her jacket.

Namjoon wanted to see her again too. But he feared he was too much of a coward to try and talk to her again. He wasn't used to just picking girls up off the street. He was soft-spoken and quiet and shy. Definitely in contrast to Rose.

He watched as she left out of his hotel room, standing there like an idiot. And dear lord was he an idiot.

Truth is. Namjoon probably had a crush on her. Yes, it was entirely based on looks, but that kinda played in on the idiot part.

How do you possibly develop a crush on someone entirely based on looks? Well, it's simple really. You see someone you find attractive and then your mind begins to imagine what they'd be like, how'd they act around you.

That's how you develop a crush without ever knowing the personality of a person.

But now it wasn't just based on looks. Namjoon liked her personality as well.

*.✧ Kᴀʏs Eɴᴅɪɴɢ Nᴏᴛᴇs

Welcome everyone to Streetside. My name is Kay or Kayla if you've never been here before, I'm so glad you decided to come around.

Before we really get into the book, I just want to put up a TW in case this concerns anyone, but this book will be mentioning and depicting sex work, sexual assault, r*pe, and heavy trauma. The mc will come to some conclusions and do some things that night not make sense, but she has been abused and has untreated PTSD so pls be patient.

This book takes place in 2008 so things that are considered "new" in this book will be old to us obviously.

I'm planning on making this a short(er) story, maybe like 15-20 chapters nothing too insanely long.

Thank you all for reading. I hope you guys enjoyed and I wish you all a wonderful day/night.

사랑해

~Kay ('-﹏-'；)