Chapter 64: Chapter 64
I clapped my hands together once, too loud in the quiet. "Soo," I started, forcing a smile. "Massage with Kayla."
Her eyebrow arched. "Yeah?"
"Did you... hear anything?"
Her body stiffened, head pulling back slightly. That little recoil was all the confirmation I needed. Fuck. She really did hear it. Susan wasn’t lying. Ivy had heard me screwing the hell out of Kayla.
"So you heard it..."
"Jesus, Evan," she said, sinking onto one of the couches. "You didn’t have to lie to me."
"I didn’t lie," I said quickly. "I had to convince her to tell Mendy the video was fake."
"By fucking her?"
"I... in a way, yeah."
Her voice sharpened. "So what—you’re some kind of sex god now? Women lining up to get a turn?"
"I didn’t say nothing like that," I muttered. "It’s just... look, I had to convince Kayla. And I did. However I had to. That’s it."
"And you used me," she said flatly. "I wouldn’t have gone along with it if I’d known Richard—or whatever his name was—was a cheater."
"I already apologized," I reminded her. "But... why would you listen in on us?"
Her cheeks flared pink. "I didn’t listen! You were so loud I couldn’t not hear. Then I got curious. And then I—"
"Jesus," I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "I knew this was a bad idea."
"She... was so loud," Ivy muttered, eyes darting away. "I mean, when did you become so... pro at sex?"
"Pro at sex?" I repeated, glaring. "You’re childish."
"You know what I mean," she shot back. "You didn’t date anyone after your ex. And now suddenly—"
"Hey," I cut in, but my voice died. "You..."
No way I could tell her the truth—that I had a damn system boosting my stats. She wouldn’t believe me anyway. Best to keep my mouth shut and let her think what she wanted.
"Let’s just drop this," Ivy said finally, leaning back. "I don’t wanna talk about it. Ever again."
"Yeah..."
"But you’ll see." Her voice softened, almost sad. "Guys like Richard—they don’t stop. They cheat, and cheat more. He’ll break Mendy’s heart a second time. And this time? It’ll be on you."
"Look, I vouch for him," I said stubbornly. "He’s a good guy. Just... confused."
"We’ll see," she sighed, settling back deeper into the couch. "Ugh... I’m gonna eat something. You want anything?"
"Nah," I said. "Gotta catch the morning shift."
"Whatever you say."
The room fell quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the faint patter of rain starting outside.
—
Fuck me.
Richard got caught cheating on his girlfriend, Mendy—again. This time with a hooker. Apparently, the dumb bastard ordered condoms online and had them delivered straight to the motel he rented. Problem was, he used her account. Mendy got the notification, followed the address, and boom—walked in on him balls-deep in some hooker’s ass.
Guy was obsessed with anal. I swear.
"Thanks for visiting," I said, handing over a chocolate bar to another customer.
"Mm." They nodded and left.
Shift finally ended. Outside, the moon hung full and white, the night air carrying that chill I always liked. Perfect night for sitting by the window, steaming mug in hand, rain ticking on the glass. Warm, quiet. Simple.
But before I could clock out, I noticed her.
Short. Real short—maybe five feet tall. Hair a tangled mess, makeup running down her face from the rain. Her clothes were damp, clinging to her frame. The type that probably never left her apartment except to grab noodles and cheap booze. Nineteen? She looked it. Fragile, like the world was already chewing her up.
She hovered by the booze shelf for five minutes, clutching two beer cans like they were lifelines.
"Ma’am," I said, putting on a smile. "Maybe I can help you?"
"U-ugh..." she stammered, hugging the beers tighter. "N-no. I can help you."
"I can... help you?" I repeated, confused.
Her cheeks burned. "I meant I can help myself."
"Oh. Right."
"Mm-mm."
She turned, ready to pay, but her foot slipped. She stumbled—didn’t fall—but the beers slipped from her arms. One shattered against the tile, fizz and glass exploding. Her face froze in horror. She dropped to her knees, muttering "Oh, no..." and reaching for the shards.
"Careful," I said quickly. "Leave it, I’ll—"
Too late. The shard sliced her finger. She flinched, sucking in a sharp breath and trying to push herself up using the chocolate rack. Her t-shirt, already soaked, clung to her body, and as she strained, her tits strained against the fabric. The rack groaned, tipped, and as she stumbled back, her ass went up in the air, her tight pants clinging to her legs.
Crash.
The rack toppled down onto her, pinning her to the floor. The t-shirt rode up, and her tits spilled out, exposed and smeared with beer and chocolate. Her pants were pushed down just enough to reveal the clear outline of her cameltoe, perfectly displayed for anyone to see. Beer-soaked and covered in chocolate bars, her tiny frame was pinned under the heavy rack, her eyes filling up fast with tears as she lay there, exposed and helpless.
"Shit," I muttered, rushing out from behind the counter. I pulled the rack up and lifted her onto her feet. She was heavier than she looked, but I steadied her by the shoulders.
"You okay?" I asked.
My gaze fell to her chest. Her t-shirt was a sodden, dark mass, and it had ridden up to her neck, leaving her tits exposed and smeared with chocolate. My face flushed hot with embarrassment. She awkwardly fumbled with the hem, pulling the fabric down.
She just stood there. Then the tears came. Quiet, broken. Crying like it was the end of the world. Over beer. Over chocolate. Over nothing.
"Hey," I said softly. "It’s fine. Don’t worry. Please."
"I’m sorry!" she burst out, trembling voice cutting sharp in the quiet store. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles, her whole face cracked. "I didn’t mean to!"
"I know," I said. I noticed the blood running down her finger. "Let me take care of that wound."
"You don’t have to. I don’t deserve it."
Her words hit strange. Heavy.
"N-no," I said firmly, grabbing her hand. "I insist. Everyone deserves at least this much."
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EVENT
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Cora’s Interest +17
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I blinked at the UI floating in my vision. Then looked back at her.
Her big eyes were on me, wide and wet. Lips curled into the faintest smile. But the second I turned to face her fully, she dropped her gaze, letting her messy hair fall forward like a curtain.
"You..." I muttered. "Are you... okay?"
"Y-yes..." she whispered. "Thank you."
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WOMEN - INTERACTIONS
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Jasmine: Interest: 16 / 20
Kayla: Interest: 5 / 20
Tessa: Interest: 15 / 20
Kim: Interest: 6 / 20
Delilah: Interest: 4 / 20
Cora: Interest: 17/20
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Progress:
★☆☆☆☆ - 20 Interest: Milestone reward
★★☆☆☆ - 40 Interest: Milestone reward
★★★☆☆ - 60 Interest: Milestone reward
★★★★☆ - 80 Interest: Milestone reward
★★★★★ -100 Interest: Milestone reward
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Select a woman to track progress.
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Holy shit.
I bust my ass every damn day trying to get more Interest points from the women I already know. Jasmine, Kayla, Tessa—each one was a grind. Pulling teeth. And then this girl, Cora, shows up out of nowhere and boom—seventeen points in one go. She was already ahead of all the others.
And what did I even do? Act like a normal human with common sense?
Christ.
"Yo," the front door creaked open. Tuck strolled in, rain dripping from his jacket.
"My man," I said, turning, throwing up a fist. "Big T, Big T."
"Wadap," he said. Then his eyes flicked toward the mess on the floor—beer puddle, glass, chocolate scattered. "Damn. What happened here?"
"I fell down..." Cora muttered, voice small, head bowed like a kid caught stealing candy. "I’m sorry."
"You get changed and punch in," I said to Tuck, stepping toward the counter. "I’ll clean this up while you do that."
"Bet." He nodded, heading for the back.
Tuck was just another clerk in this hellhole gas station. Big guy, same age as me. Buff as shit. Hair cropped neat, always just a hair longer than a buzzcut. He once told me it was regulation length from when he was in the military. Dude measured it like it was gospel.
By the time I grabbed the mop and turned back to the mess, the girl was gone. Just... gone. Like smoke.
"Huh," I muttered, scanning the empty store. "Okay... this was... okay. Nevermind, I suppose."
I grabbed the mop and bucket, crouched down, and started wiping the sticky beer mess off the tiles. Shards of glass clinked as I scooped them up, one by one, dropping them into the trash. The rack had tipped over sideways, so I wrestled it back upright, its metal legs scraping against the floor. A few chocolate bars were scattered all around—half squished, half intact. I stacked them back into neat rows on the shelf, like nothing had happened.
By the time I was almost done, I heard the door from the personnel room creak open. Tuck walked out and came to stand beside me.
"Who was she?" Big T asked, nodding toward where Cora had been. "Strange girl."
"Yeah," I agreed, pushing the mop back and forth. "You never saw her here?"
"Nope," Tuck said flatly. Then, changing gears, "Eh, anyway. Bro, did you hear about Richard?"
"Fucking idiot." I shook my head, dragging the mop back to the counter. "He got caught cheating again. This guys is just... man. Can’t even find the right words for him."
"This guy worships anal sex," Tuck said, like it was some kind of diagnosis. "Damn weirdo, man. Damn fucking weirdo."
"Man..." I leaned both elbows against the counter, exhaling. "I even helped him make up with Mendy."
"That’s low, man." Tuck walked next to me, crossing his arms. "You knew he would cheat again. He’s just like that. Why help?"
"He told me he wouldn’t do it again."
"And you believed him?"
"Yeah, yeah. I’m an idiot." I sighed. "Anyway, I should go. Need a bath and a good sleep."
"Hey," Tuck said, lowering his voice. "You should maaaybe call Mendy. Because from what I heard, dude, she was—saying preeeetty bad things about you."
"For what?"
"You apparently told her Richard’s video was fake. The one where he goes balls deep in some chick." Tuck grimaced. "Turns out it was real after all. And you tricked her."
I rubbed the back of my head, a sick heat pooling in my chest. "Shit."
Ivy was right. She fucking told me. And I didn’t listen. Now Mendy’s heart was broken twice because of me—first by Richard, then by my dumbass move. All for what? A couple extra experience points.
I had to make it up to her. Or at least explain myself.
"I can deal with that tomorrow..." I muttered, though it sounded weak even to me. "Hope she forgives me."
"Meeeh. I don’t know that, Evan. I fucking don’t know that. She was pretty angry." Big T straightened as the bell above the door jingled and a customer walked in. "Welcome, sir."
I grabbed my bag off the floor, slung it over my shoulder, and stepped away from the counter. My pack of cigarettes was waiting in my pocket—I tapped one out and lit it as soon as I pushed through the glass door.
Tuck gave me a lazy wave. I lifted my hand in return, smoke curling from my lips as I stepped out into the night.
Only one word came to mind.
Mess.
A fucking mess.
—