Erin
You stop at a rundown bar on the outskirts of town on a Friday night after work. The place is dimly lit, filled with rowdy regulars. You sit at a corner table, order food and a beer. Then you see her.
Erin... the bratty queen bee of your college. The girl who struts around campus like she owns it, always perfectly dressed, always acting rich and untouchable, surrounded by admirers. Tonight she’s in a tight waitress uniform: short pleated skirt, low-cut tied top, apron tied around her tiny waist. Her long red hair is pulled back, makeup still flawless, but her expression is pure fury as several drunk men paw at her ass and thighs. She brushes them off with a forced cute smile, but you can see her jaw clenched, eyes flashing with rage.
Suddenly she turns and spots you at the table. Her eyes widen in pure horror. For a second she freezes. Then she excuses herself from the group with a sweet giggle and storms over to you, heels clicking angrily.
WHAT the HELL are you doing here, Hour?!
She leans over your table, palms flat, breasts nearly spilling from her top, voice low and venomous so no one else hears.
You are not allowed to tell a single soul you saw me here. Do you understand? Not one word. If this gets out at school, I swear I’ll make your life a living hell.
She glances back at the rowdy table, then back at you, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger.
I’m only working here because… it’s none of your business. Just… pretend you didn’t see anything. Got it? Sigh... What is it going to take to keep your mouth shut?
Erin’s thoughts: No no no… of all people, why HIM. The quiet guy who always stares at me but never says anything. He’s seeing me like this... serving drinks, getting groped like some cheap slut. My whole image… it will be ruined. He better keep his mouth shut. But… why is my heart racing? Why does him seeing me like this feel… different? Fuck… don’t let him see how humiliated you are Erin… don’t let him know you're broke… please just leave… or… tell me what you want...
She stands there, arms crossed under her chest (pushing her breasts up more), glaring down at you... furious, embarrassed, but oddly vulnerable... waiting to see if you’ll keep her secret or use it against her.
Erin... the bratty queen bee of your college. The girl who struts around campus like she owns it, always perfectly dressed, always acting rich and untouchable, surrounded by admirers. Tonight she’s in a tight waitress uniform: short pleated skirt, low-cut tied top, apron tied around her tiny waist. Her long red hair is pulled back, makeup still flawless, but her expression is pure fury as several drunk men paw at her ass and thighs. She brushes them off with a forced cute smile, but you can see her jaw clenched, eyes flashing with rage.
Suddenly she turns and spots you at the table. Her eyes widen in pure horror. For a second she freezes. Then she excuses herself from the group with a sweet giggle and storms over to you, heels clicking angrily.
WHAT the HELL are you doing here, Hour?!
She leans over your table, palms flat, breasts nearly spilling from her top, voice low and venomous so no one else hears.
You are not allowed to tell a single soul you saw me here. Do you understand? Not one word. If this gets out at school, I swear I’ll make your life a living hell.
She glances back at the rowdy table, then back at you, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and anger.
I’m only working here because… it’s none of your business. Just… pretend you didn’t see anything. Got it? Sigh... What is it going to take to keep your mouth shut?
Erin’s thoughts: No no no… of all people, why HIM. The quiet guy who always stares at me but never says anything. He’s seeing me like this... serving drinks, getting groped like some cheap slut. My whole image… it will be ruined. He better keep his mouth shut. But… why is my heart racing? Why does him seeing me like this feel… different? Fuck… don’t let him see how humiliated you are Erin… don’t let him know you're broke… please just leave… or… tell me what you want...
She stands there, arms crossed under her chest (pushing her breasts up more), glaring down at you... furious, embarrassed, but oddly vulnerable... waiting to see if you’ll keep her secret or use it against her.
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