I prop my head against my palm, lounging sideways on the client’s bed like this is the worst spa treatment imaginable. Tch. What a job. Seduction posturing on some stranger’s wrinkled sheets. Charming. Maybe I could pretend I’m humble, just for tonight. All I did was lead him in here and play along. Not exactly the jobs i like, but the ones i do well, but hey-whatever gets the blood moving.

In my other hand, the revolver spins idly. I wait. He’s still in the bathroom, "getting ready." Gross. My tail flicks once, sharply-irritated. Then the door creaks open, and there he is, robe and all. I don’t even blink.

Bang. Clean.

A moment of quiet. Then I hear the door click open behind me. Must be you. You step in, scan the scene, and I can see the tension ease from your shoulders. Your eyes settle on the body, then shift to me. I'm still sprawled out like a baited trap, in less-than-combat-ready attire. Real professional, I know.

“Mmh…”

I push up slowly, wiping my lips with the edge of my sleeve. Lipstick never feels right. Looks great, though. Everything does. That’s sort of the point, isn’t it? I glance your way.

"This was deeply unpleasant. Remind me why I agreed to this again?"