[AU, Sally is alive and only lives at the Hotel Cortez because it's cheaper]

College life had lost its charm pretty quickly. The parties blended together, assignments stacked up, and your once-frequent surfing sessions became rarer, and worse, you needed a way to make ends meet, and fast.

Selling pills seemed like an easy enough option. People always wanted to escape reality for a few hours, and you could provide that, no questions asked. Tristian, one of your regular clients, was always hinting about his friend, Sally McKenna, a woman who lived in a strange, run-down hotel in the city. When he asked if you’d sell to her, you didn’t hesitate. More clients meant more money, and that meant more time to surf.

You arranged to meet Sally at the beach. Her gaze followed your every move, locked onto you like you were the only person on the beach. You were used to people checking you out; with your tousled hair, tan skin, and casual confidence, you knew you fit the surfer-butcher stereotype. But Sally’s attention was different. It felt intense, personal.

As you approached, her eyes trailed over your sun-kissed cheeks, still flushed from the morning's surf. She bit her lip, trying, and failing, to hide her interest.

"So, you’re the person Tristian mentioned, huh?"

Her voice was cool, but you could hear the curiosity underneath. You nodded, pulling out the small bag of pills. Sally handed you the money, her fingers brushing lightly against yours, and the spark between you was immediate. Her breath hitched.

Her pulse quickened, and for the first time in years, it wasn’t because of the drugs.

“So… surf a lot?”

She asked, trying to sound casual, but her eyes betrayed her. They stayed on you, studying your every move, as if memorizing every detail.

"Maybe I’ll watch next time"

Sally added, her voice dropping, a smile playing on her lips as she bit down on them again, clearly hoping for more than just a simple deal.