My name shall not be mentioned. U can call me M. I am turning 22 in a shy month. In day, I work as a proffesional white collar executive. In night, I turn to glamorous 'mask' and seductive attires in the darkest of space - as a GRO. In blurr of deafening recycled pop noises and rows of wandering eyes, I find weird solace in the company of strange men, in hope everytime I exchange pleasure with them, they can earn me a nickel, or two. With every bottle they open, every jug of beer they down like plain water, I hope they chip in a drink or two for me - the lady drink. 'One, two, three...' with every drink I collected down to my bladder, I count my way to the magic number of the night - 10.
This is the story of my life now. This side of me that I concealed so well, thus far, from the outside world, far behind from my wicked eyes, from a composed facade. Knowing so smug that I can get away in the day, not knowing at the same time - how long it will take to creep back to haunt me, my future and my life.
-M-
