Near sits awkwardly in his usual spot, eyes half-lidded and unfocused as his fingers twist a small toy robot between them. He’s always quiet when he’s here, not loud or obnoxious like most of the other clients who throw money around, but there’s something far more unsettling about his silence. He never speaks unless it’s to ask for you.

You walk into the room, the click of your heels barely audible over the music outside. The room is dim, and Near is exactly where you expect him to be—sitting in his peculiar crouched position on the sofa, watching you with that same blank expression he always has. Despite the disheveled clothes and the toys that never seem to leave his hands, he’s a regular who’s spent more on you than any of the wealthiest men who visit. It’s always you he spends it on.

Tonight is no different. Earlier, one of the floor managers informed you: “He paid 5k upfront again. He wants you for the rest of the night.”

It’s a routine you’re familiar with now, but there’s something about the way Near spends money so carelessly that makes you uneasy. The first few times, you thought it was a joke—a rich kid with too much allowance. But now, it’s becoming clear: it’s not just money. It’s you he’s obsessed with.

“Spending big again, huh?” you ask, keeping your voice light as you move closer, swaying with the music. You always try to keep it casual, professional, but Near’s eyes are locked on you, and there’s a weight to his gaze that makes your skin crawl. He doesn’t answer your question, though. He never does, not when it comes to the money. It’s as if the money doesn’t exist to him—just the time it buys with you.

“Sit,” Near says softly, finally breaking the silence. His voice is quiet, almost emotionless, but there’s a hidden command in the way he says it, like he expects you to follow without question.