After cleaning up in a handy en-suite bathroom... with Callahan to boot... I return to the club. (And let’s just say when he worked my body over in that shower, on his knees, finger fucking my pussy while water poured over my body—I have never felt as divinely beautiful as I did right then.)

I run my fingers through my hair, sure I look like I’ve just been fucked several times over. But as I look around the hazy club, where half-dressed women dance around poles and men touch their partners without inhibition on the dance floor—getting themselves ready for what comes next in a private room, I realize then that everyone here looks like walking sex.

“Where have you been?” Gretchen asks, offering me a glass of champagne as I sit down on the couch with her and Danny.

“Just... around.”

Gretchen snorts as Danny stands. “I’ve gotta call it a night, ladies. Glad you’re finding your way in this city, especially you Gretch.” He shakes his head as he adjusts his suit coat. “Have to say I’m impressed. You got yourself a front-page article before you got a single photoshoot in a magazine.”

We kiss him on the cheek, smiling at our agent who has been looking out for us since we signed with him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Danny,” I remind him. “We have an appointment at eleven, remember?”

He nods. “My secretary takes care of all that, but if you say so, I’m sure you’re right. See you then, doll.”

After he’s gone, I cover a yawn, poorly. “Where is Collette?”

“She left for a room with some musician.”

“Who?”

“Justin Bieber, maybe?”

I slap her playfully. “No way.”

She shrugs, “Maybe it wasn’t him, but he had that same vibe.” She squints, assessing me. “My question is... where did you go?”

Still giddy from the thrill of the night, I lean in and whisper. “A room with Cal. Are all the rooms so...?”

“So fucking hot? I don’t know. Last night Sawyer had me in a harness, swinging from the ceiling as he rode me. I thought those things were just in pornos. But apparently, they are also in the Hollywood Hills.”

“My room was pretty nondescript, No fancy toys, I mean.”

She scrunches up her face. “What made it Fuck Club worthy then?”

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks and I explain the two-way mirrors. I stop a few times asking if I’m giving her too many details, but she loves it and asks for more. When I finish, Gretchen’s eyes are wide, impressed. “That’s pretty fucking hot. I mean... did any part of you want to join in the orgies?”

I shake my head. “No, I mean, it was exciting to watch but I was just overwhelmed at being there with Cal. His body...” I laugh softly. “He’s insane in the best possible way.”

“Who is he?”

“The bartender.” I jut my chin to the side. “See him over there.”

Gretchen whistles. “He’s hot as fuck, but I have to ask, why not someone famous?”

Just as I’m about to shrug, a woman steps in front of us. I’m struck simultaneously by her beauty, and by the rage on her face as she lifts a perfectly manicured finger and jams it in our faces.

“Which one of you vapid-ass bitches fucked my boyfriend?”

Her words come out laced with so much venom that at first, I don’t know what to say, but then I manage to shake my head, noticing that Gretchen is silent, her head hanging low. “Look, lady,” I say, “we don’t know your boyfriend.”

For a moment fear clutches at my heart out of nowhere. Cal—was it too good to be true?

Is he cheating on this intense, frightening, beautiful woman—with me?

But then Gretchen finally lifts her head and speaks up. “Hey, Sondra,” she says. “It’s Sondra, right? Sawyer’s girlfriend?”

“We don’t know your boyfr…” I start again, but Gretchen rests her arm on mine, stopping me.

“You are Sondra, aren’t you?” she asks. “Sawyer’s girlfriend?”

With a hand on her hip, she wags a finger at Gretchen. “Damn right I am. And I don’t need you ruining everything I’ve built—”

Gretchen isn’t having any of it. “Look, I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t know Sawyer and you were a thing and it's not my job to know. He’s the one who invited me upstairs. He’s the one who fucked me all night. So, don’t get mad at me. Get mad at him.”

She narrows her eyes at Gretchen. “No one knows where he is.”

“Well, I sure as hell don’t either. I’ve been here all night. Haven’t talked to him since last night. We weren’t doing anything that was supposed to last longer than a night. I had no idea those photos would get leaked.”

“Well, who saw you?” Sondra asks just as Jordan comes over.

“Sondra,” Jordan says, taking her arm and trying to lead her away. “Let’s go talk in private.”

“Private?” Sondra’s nostrils flare, and I remember that look from her role in a mega blockbuster film when she took down a throng of zombie aliens. Suddenly, I realize she is Sondra Sinclaire. Like, the Sondra. I swallow, the reality of the level of fame I am now surrounded by washing over me.

“Yes, we don’t know who is out here, listening.”

Sondra scoffs holding out her phone. “It’s a little late to be worried about that, Jordan. Did you not see what was leaked ten minutes ago? Why do you think I’m here?”

Jordan reaches for the phone, looking at the images pulled up.

I can’t help but stand and look over Jordan’s shoulder.

More photos on an online magazine.

But this time it isn’t of Gretchen and Sawyer.

They are of Collette and they are pretty damn compromising.

And it’s not just a photo. There is a link to more.

Gretchen grabs my hand. “Fuck, she has no idea. We’ve got to get her.”

My eyes become steely. Wasn’t it just this morning Gretchen was saying any press is good press?

But I don’t have time to question her change of heart.

I just need to make sure my friend is okay.

* * *

The next morning, in our apartment, I make Collette a mug of coffee. No cream, two Splendas, just the way she takes it. The fact that she’s sitting here, and not buried under a cocoon of blankets is a miracle.

The photos that were leaked of her were nothing like Gretchen’s now seemingly tame bare-ass straddle.

Mostly because it wasn’t just a photo. Colette and her Bieber-lookalike five minutes of fame took the form of a ninety-second video of the two of them flushed with excitement as they touched themselves while watching one another.

Last night, in the room with Callahan, the thrill was from knowing those other guests wanted us to watch them. They went to those rooms specifically to be observed as they pleasured one another.

But Collette had no idea she was being watched.

Taped.

Exposed.

“Here you go, sweetie,” I say, sitting next to her on the couch handing her the cup.

Gretchen’s on another couch scrolling through her iPad, trying to wrap her mind around the situation.

“It’s more than a crazy coincidence, right?” she asks.

I nod numbly, feeling like the three of us have targets on our backs and feeling like I am going to be the next one to get hit.

I can’t believe I was so foolish as to go to a room with Cal last night.

What if that had been me?

It’s unimaginable. I was only supposed to be here in LA to make cash for my father’s farm. Not to play out latent fantasies. Shame courses through me at the realization of how far I’ve drifted from my priorities in just a few short weeks. I thought the idea of my SI spread was cringeworthy. The video of Collette all over the internet? I could never show my face in Indiana again if something like that happened to me.

And if no one knows who is leaking these stories then maybe I really will be next.

“It makes me feel like there is no one I can trust in this town,” Colette says, wiping her eyes with a wadded up tissue.

“You can trust us,” I assure her. “The Fuck Club is seriously bad news. I feel so crappy that I asked you guys to go there with me last night. I should have known better.”

Gretchen smirks. “You couldn’t help it. Good cock is hard to come by.”

Her vulgarity in the midst of this crisis warms me to her. She offers the comic relief we all need right now.

“Was it good?” Collette asks. “The sex?”

I nod. “I mean, I have nothing to compare it to, but the club has the nickname it does for a reason.”

I explain to her what I shared with Gretchen last night. How we were able to watch other couples getting it on while we did.

“That’s some kinky shit,” she says, impressed. “And I thought that being in a room where there was a spinning bed and mirrors on every surface was sexy.” Her phone rings and she looks at it before returning it to silent. “It’s my parents.”

Gretchen and I share a grimace.

“Don’t,” Collette says. “It’s my fault. I was the one who thought what happened to Gretchen was a one-time thing.”

“We all did.” I look at my own phone and seeing that my meeting with Danny is approaching, so I tell my roommates I’ve got to get going.

“Why are you meeting with him?” Gretchen asks.

“I think something got messed up with my paycheck. The deposit doesn’t look right.”

The girls nod, knowing my backstory and how much every penny counts for me right now.

“See you later,” I tell them as I grab my purse. “And enjoy your day off even if you can’t show your face outside. It’s Saturday, might as well turn on Netflix and order in junk food. God knows you deserve a cheat day.”

“Love ya, Juliana,” they call out to me as I leave, debating whether to take an Uber as I take the elevator down to the ground level. In the end, I opt for the bus. The fifteen bucks I’ll save means less stress for my father. Right now, that is the most important thing.

* * *

After my meeting with Danny, I wander around the dirty sidewalks for half an hour, trying to collect my thoughts, and hoping to stop the tears from falling.

What am I even here for?

I find an empty bench and pull out my phone, wanting to hear the comforting voice of the man who has always looked out for me.

“Daddy?” I say when he answers.

“Sweet pea? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” I say, my resolve to be strong crumbling the moment I hear his voice.

“What’s wrong?” I swear I can smell the tractor grease through the phone line. See the creases in his eyes from where he has spent too much time worrying about me, his only child. “Don’t tell me those fancy photographers are making my little girl upset.”

“Oh, Daddy, I just feel so far from home. And I thought I’d be back in a month... but I’m not sure that is going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got my first paycheck. I didn’t realize how much money would go to my agent, taxes, fees... all that stuff. I thought I’d bet making a lot more.”

“Is it more than you were making at the diner?”

“Yeah,” I tell him. “But not anywhere what I expected.” My meeting with Danny went awful. Not that he wasn’t kind and understanding, but the truth is, I am giving up so much being here. Besides my home life, I am also losing my privacy. Soon enough my photos will be released in the spreads I modeled for.

“Hey, you don’t need to do this if you hate it,” Dad tells me. “It’s not your job to save this place.”

“But it’s our home. Our everything.” I blink back tears.

“I think maybe you are a little homesick, darling. You’ve never gone farther than a day's drive in your whole life. And I know you are focused on the money, but maybe think about the experience. Have you made any friends?”

I think about my roommates, they are fun and silly and sweet, but not people I would ever consider true confidants. I’ve never had a ton of friends, mostly kept to myself growing up, helping with Grandma every day after school.

I’m not a loner. On Friday nights, I’d meet up with other Townies and drink beer and bullshit at the local bar, Dusty’s. The night before I came to LA they raised their Bud Lights and wished me well, but none of that crew has called to check in.

And none of those old friends back home made me feel the way Callahan has made me feel two nights in a row.

Alive. Wanted. Seen.

“You’re awful quiet, Jules. Having a hard time fitting in?”

“Everyone’s just really different here.” I think about the Fuck Club. How I let Cal lick me up and down while watching a ménage one floor above. My face flushes at the memory. The idea of Dad knowing what I did… I’d die.

I’ll never go back to that place. It was so risky, so dumb to return at all. Of course, I want to see Callahan again... just not there.

“Well, you’ve always stayed on the outside Jules, ever since you were little. People never knew what to do with you here. You are so beautiful, so—”

I cut Daddy off. “Don’t say it.”

“It’s true. You are too pretty for this town, all the girls were jealous and all the guys were intimidated.”

I shake my head. “It’s not the same here. Everyone in this town is gorgeous.”

“Well, then you should fit right in, sweetie.”

“Daddy, you’re too sweet to me.”

“Just saying the truth.”

A smile breaks through my tears, and I’m glad I called the person who has known me forever.

“Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you more. Now go do something that will make you feel better. You’ve worked hard. Treat yourself with a part of this paycheck you just got.”

I hang up, thinking he’s right. I’ve been working hard every day. This is my first day off since I got here. And I should do something just for me, especially knowing my roommates are hunkering down in the apartment recounting their time in the spotlight.

My thumbs hover over the keys on my phone knowing how I want to treat myself but wondering if it’s too forward.

Screw it.

“Cal,” I text. “Wanna meet for a late lunch?”

He replies right away.

With a yes.