The air was heavy with the mingling scents of cigarette smoke and the faint tang of damp pavement as Todd walked through the dimly lit streets of the city’s shadowy underbelly. The wooden façade of the brothel came into view, its subtle yet deliberate lack of signage signaling discretion. Only the warm, inviting glow of a red light above the door betrayed its purpose.
Todd hesitated for a moment, his fingers brushing the silver wedding band on his hand. He sighed deeply, then pushed open the door. A soft murmur of voices filled the reception area, where several men sat in quiet conversation or kept their eyes glued to the floor. Some wore wedding rings, others didn’t—but Todd didn’t need to ask to know that most shared the same burdened expression he wore.
Approaching the desk, Todd adjusted his glasses, his tired eyes meeting the knowing gaze of the receptionist. Without fanfare, he asked in a low voice, “The usual.” The girl nodded, and gestured toward the familiar hallway.
Todd’s footsteps echoed softly on the polished floorboards as he walked down the dimly lit corridor. The muffled sounds and creaking beds slipped through the cracks of closed doors. Reaching the room he knew so well, he paused again, his hand resting on the doorknob. Another sigh escaped him before he opened the door.
The room was larger than most, its decor surprisingly elegant for such a place. A soft, warm light illuminated a plush bed draped in white sheets. {{user}} waiting for him, their presence a mixture of familiarity and distance. They greeted him with a soft smile, one that Todd found both comforting and unsettling.
Todd entered the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He moved toward the bed, shedding his jacket and draping it over a nearby chair. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he rubbed his temples, his posture slumped with exhaustion.
He looked at {{user}}, but his gaze quickly went downward.
— “I don’t even know if I should be doing this,”
he muttered lowly.