The conversation picked up around me, but I didn’t know what they were talking about since they had started speaking in that other language again. They could’ve been talking about me for all I knew, but I didn’t care. The meal was simple, but I liked it. I’d been eating cheap frozen and convenience store meals for so long that I didn’t even remember food could taste this good.

“You can do the dishes for extra pay,” Mr A said, interrupting my thoughts. He wasn’t looking at me, but it was obvious he was speaking to me. “And you can have seconds if you were not satisfied with your dinner portions.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was attractive, I was attractive… in my own way. So, why did he pick me up on a corner known for having sex workers just to have me be his maid? “What is your motive here, ‘Mr. A’?” I asked, putting air quotations around his bullshit nickname. “You pick me up and offer to pay me to do housework? What is this?”

His intense blue eyes shifted to me. “You can either accept or decline. The more you accomplish, the more I pay you. As mentioned before, there is no catch. I am feeling tired this evening, but I will take care of the dishes if you will not.”

My eyes followed his figure as he rose from the chair with his plate. When I looked back at Mr S and the younger boy, they were both staring at me.

“That’s not very smart of you. I’d take the money,” the blond boy said which earned him a flick to the ear from Mr S who muttered something along the lines of “Didn’t I tell you not to talk to strangers?”.

He made sense, but it was hurting me to admit it. “I’ll do it,” I mumbled, standing. I picked up my plate and took his on the way to the kitchen.

“Do not forget ours, Little Stray,” Mr S said, waving his hand to get my attention.

Without a word, I turned back to get the rest of the plates and glasses. There was something about the way the two men spoke that made me want to be cautious around them. I could have potentially gotten myself into a dangerous situation by getting into their car, but I was still going to get paid for what I considered far less work than sleeping with a stranger and pretending it felt good.

Mr A came to stand behind me at the sink, the warmth from his body hovering behind me seeping into my back. “Listen carefully, because I do not like repeating myself.” He tapped the counter where a miniature bin was. “All food waste goes in here.” He gestured to the sink on my right. “Fill this with hot water to soak the dishes in. After five to ten minutes, scrub the dishes clean and rinse with cold water. Do you understand?”

Why did he have to be so particular? I didn’t have much room to complain though. I’d get paid for washing dishes. “Mhm,” I hummed and placed the dishes in the left sink so I could get to filling the right sink with hot water.

“I expect more than an ‘mhm’ in response. I am sure I told you what to call me.”

I turned to look at him, but I could barely keep eye contact with him for more than a few seconds. Damn, his aura was scary, but he didn’t even realize how much more attractive him being bossy was. This man was teasing me but refusing to give me even a taste of what I wanted.

“Yes, Mr A.”

“Remember the laundry,” he said, leaving the kitchen for the living room.

I was obedient, following his directions exactly the way he told me. While the dishes soaked, I checked on the laundry. Once the first load was over, I moved it to the dryer and started another load. After that, I went back to wash the dishes. I worked quietly and efficiently, realizing that what I was doing was as close to a traditional job as I’d ever gotten. Over the next few hours, I did as I was asked.

Mr A and Mr S had moved to the living room while I did my work along with the blond boy who I was yet to know the name of. They were working at the coffee table on what it took me a long time to realize were just high-tech laptops. With earphones in their ears, they worked quietly only talking to each other every once in a while. The boy stayed near them, occasionally glancing at me from his position on the couch.

I was curious as to what their relationship was with each other. Mr A and Mr S seemed like they worked together judging by their similar clothing from earlier. They both had intense auras, but the boy had a different air than they did. Was he human? What was he doing with them? Was he like me? Had they picked him up from the side of the road and taken him in? He seemed so close to them. More to Mr S than Mr A, but still, Mr S called him ‘Baby’.

As if he had heard my thoughts, Mr S took his earbuds out, but his attention turned towards the boy. “Baby, are you tired?”

“Mhm,” he murmured, twirling a lock of Mr S’ hair around his finger. “But I’ll wait up for you if you need to keep working.”

As if noticing I was staring at them, Mr A called out to me. “Are you done?” he asked.

His deep voice had startled me. “Yeah,” I answered. I had folded what I could to the best of my ability, but a lot of his clothes had to be hung. I even tried ironing, which took me a long time since I’d never done that before either. Steaming was easy, but was boring since it took so long. “Will you show me where to put these away?” Why did he make me feel so timid?

Mr A stood and gestured for me to follow him back to his room. I shuffled along behind him with all the clothes in tow, the ones that needed to be hung slung over my arm. Once he gestured to the closet in his room, he took a seat on the bed and sat back to watch me hang his clothes up.

His closet was arranged in a way where everything was categorized. All his shirts were in one place, his jackets were together, and even ironed pants were hung together so there wasn’t much deliberation on where to hang what. Once I was done, he pointed to the drawers. He wasn’t much help. I had to open each drawer to find out what was in it so I could put the clothes I had washed neatly inside.

“Do you do this every night?” Mr A asked when I closed the last drawer. “Offer sexual services for a place to stay I mean.”

“No,” I answered. “I only do it when I can’t bother sleeping outside anymore.” Recently, anyways.

“I can see how sleeping outside at night, especially when the temperature drops, can be uncomfortable. How long have you been homeless?”

“It’s a temporary situation.”

I dragged the basket back to the corner of the bathroom where I had found it and leaned against the wall to look at him. There were guys who I had spent the night with who were so bad that I needed to get high or imagine someone else when I was with them to get through the night. I would not have to imagine anyone else if Mr A had done to me what I thought he had picked me up for.

“How temporary?”

“Like I could be back home in the morning… or in three days.”

“So, you are homeless indefinitely?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

Well, that was one way to put it. “Yeah,” I admitted. “Don’t go feeling bad for me. I can take care of myself.”

“I had a feeling. Though I pity you. You shouldn’t have to be in your situation.”

“I don’t need your pity either,” I said, tone sharp. I could feel myself getting angry, but it didn’t overflow like it usually did. The second my tone had changed, Mr A had narrowed his eyes at me in a way where I could imagine he was trying to tell me to watch the way I was speaking to him.

“Completing the washing and drying earned you three hundred dollars. Ironing and folding earned you one hundred dollars. You washed the dishes, so that earned you an extra fifty dollars. Congratulations, Kai, you have earned yourself four hundred and fifty dollars tonight. It is probably not as much as you would usually make on a night like this, but at least you did not have to sell your body to earn it.”

I leaned up off the wall. “And what if I still want to sell my body to you?”

“I am not interested.”

“Then I’ll accept the payment for the odd jobs and throw in sex for free as long as you still allow me to stay.”

“Not. Interested.”

“Not interested in men?” I asked. If he said yes, then it would make sense.

“I am not interested in one-night stands. If I have sex with someone, I intend to form a monogamous relationship with them. So, if a one-night stand is what you have to offer, then you are… how do humans say? Barking up the wrong tree.”

Oh, he was one of those people. He looked the type to be able to pull anyone he wanted, so I couldn’t argue. Having only done housework to get a place to sleep was a better alternative to having some stranger screw me. However, I wouldn’t complain if that stranger was Mr A, but I had to keep my guard up. I had thought Jeff was becoming a bit unreliable lately, and as much as I thought I’d like sex from this man, that didn’t mean I was about to jump into his bed and discard Jeff immediately. This man wasn’t even human but it would be nice to have someone else as a backup since Jeff was failing me.

“Alright then. I completely understand,” I said, though I didn’t. I didn’t understand relationships. “Seeing as you’ve been asking me all these questions, do I get to ask any of my own?”

“You may, but I cannot guarantee whatever you ask will be answered.” He scooped his hair from behind him over his shoulder and started to braid the strands together.

“Is pity the reason you picked me up?” I asked almost getting distracted by his hair. I had never seen anyone with such long hair. I was starting to wonder what it felt like. It looked soft.

“Yes. You can make money without having to sell your body. But if having sex is fun for you, I am sure you can get your fill more safely.”

“Like entering into a relationship with you?” I asked as a joke with a scoff.

“No.”

So, he wasn’t opposed to men, just to one-night stands. But now that I was hypothetically proposing a relationship, he was declining. I was officially lost. “I don’t get it. Are you just not attracted to me?”

“I do find you physically attractive. I like your androgynous features.”

Whatever that meant. “Then why-”

“Because I said so. Stop questioning me,” he said, getting up from the bed now that he was finished with his braid. “This is just an assumption, but from my particular preferences in bed, I do not think our interests would align. Please erase the very thought of sex with me from your mind and pay attention to your current situation.”

If he wanted me to stop thinking about how he’d feel inside me then mentioning he had particular interests was a bad tactic. It only made me more curious. What kind of interests? What would he do to me? My imagination was kicked into gear.

“Please take a shower. I will lend you some clothes to sleep in. Also, while this may seem extreme, I will be locking you in the room tonight.”

“Are you f-”

“I suggest you watch your mouth when you speak to me.”

I bit my lower lip and looked at the floor. I felt as if I’d just been scolded.

“I will be locking you inside this room tonight because you are a stranger and I do not trust you. I will unlock the door when I get up to get breakfast early tomorrow. If you should want something to eat or drink between now and then, I will provide you with a bottle of water and a snack before I leave you for the night.”

I felt like I was being treated like a prisoner, but I had endured worse than being locked inside the bedroom of a hotel suite for the night with a snack and water in case I got the midnight munchies. “Got it… Mr A,” I answered. His words felt definite, non-negotiable, and I wasn’t about to argue.

He left me afterwards and I went to the bathroom to take a shower. I didn’t touch myself but I would need the release eventually. I had never wanted someone to do me so bad.

As promised, when I went back into the bedroom, a set of clothes, a bottle of water, a chocolate bar, and a bag of cinnamon crackers awaited me. I got dressed in slightly oversized clothes and drank some of the water. Out of curiosity, I checked the door. Mr A hadn’t been joking around. It was indeed locked from the outside. I had no other choice but to stay inside the room all night. What kind of hotel had bedrooms that could be locked from the outside?

I went to the crappily folded lump of clothes I had taken off and took out my phone. To save some battery, I needed to turn it off. There were several messages from Jeff though that I hadn’t heard come in. I really wanted to ignore them, but I ended up opening and reading them anyways.

Where r u? – Jeff

I’ll come to pick u up wherever – Jeff

Did Peter call u back home? – Jeff

Y aren’t u picking up? – Jeff

Call me – Jeff

Son of a bitch. I didn’t bother going through the rest of the messages. They’d most likely be more of the same, but nothing he sent could make me leave this place to go to him instead. How dare he bother to pretend to care after telling me to fuck off? He clearly didn’t care where I’d end up for the night.

Fuck off – Zed