Come As You Are

The girl took one last drag of the joint in between her fingers. She shouldn’t be smoking in the public like this, but no one would question her. This was her territory. She soon moved through the halls of the familiar hotel, trying to make her steps as light as possible which was becoming difficult with her heels. She had on a beige jacket that went down to her knees and not much else underneath.

She was a blonde tonight. Maybe her name would be Scarlett. It was all a character to her, it made it bearable. The different person she was every night made her feel like this wouldn’t be permanent. Apparently the year she had been doing it wasn’t enough.

She knocked on the hotel room door that she was told to come to. Three knocks, like he said. A young man opened the door and the girl smiled but it wasn’t returned. He left the door open but walked away and she walked in without his welcome.

She shut the door behind her and put her bag on the desk carefully. He was by far the best looking man she had ever met in these kinds of situations, but he was just the same as them all. Whether he was desperate or cheating on his wife, they were all pigs.

He turned to look at her and she spoke, “What’s your name?”

“John, yours?”

“Scarlett,” she replied without hesitation.

He swayed awkwardly on his feet and she knew she would have to take the reins. She opened her jacket and revealed her slutty lingerie. He stared at her body for a few seconds before looking in her eyes.

“I need a date.”

“I don’t do dates,” she replied.

“Then I’m not paying you for anything,” he said.

She rolled her eyes and put her jacket back on. She had heard of this happening before. Confused men thinking an escort actually meant what the word did, rather than what it implied.

She fastened the buttons slowly; slightly annoyed he had wasted her time.

“My friends made me do this. They thought it would be something like Pretty Woman I guess. It’s some stupid party at my record label,” he said.

She looked at him, unbelieving, “Of all the pretty girls in Los Angeles a guy like you can’t find a date?”

“L.A. is full of whores,” he looked at her, “You know.”

She ignored his comment that deserved a punch in the groin, “So this was your last resort?”

“Mine bailed on me at the last minute. It’s all politics in this business and if I’m there without a date everyone will think I’m gay or a psycho.”

“So how do I know you’re not?” she asked.

He sighed, exasperated, “Will you come or not?”

She thought for a moment. She didn’t have any appointments for the rest of the night so she might as well. She hadn’t been out in a while, “You’re lucky I have a dress with me.”

“Hurry, please,” he said.

She went to the bathroom and changed and looked at herself in the mirror. She took a lot of her makeup off and instantly felt cleaner. She poked her head out of the bathroom and called to him, “Do you like blondes or brunettes?”

“Brunettes, why?” he asked as he joined her

She peeled off her wig and shook out her hair that had been tucked back. It was all naturally curled and she smiled, feeling much more like herself. She looked at John, noticing he was staring.

“Ready?” she asked.

He nodded his head and they walked out to his car. The ride was silent for a while before he spoke up, “Where is your accent from?”

“Louisiana,” she told him, “New Orleans specifically.”

“Long way from home,” he observed.

“That was on purpose,” she said, “So, a record label, huh? Are you some kind of famous musician or something?”

“Depends on who you ask,” he said, “My band just released an album.”

“You must be the lead singer, then,” she said.

“How did you know?”

“You’ve got that asshole attitude about you,” she replied bluntly.

He scoffed, “You don’t have any room to judge.”

She looked out the window at the passing scenery. She wasn’t used to this side of Los Angeles; she usually stayed in the poorer parts. She had almost saved enough to get out of the ghetto, but she felt like she was always running to just stay ahead. She was only twenty two and so exhausted.

“We should probably lay down some particulars,” he said as he turned down the music.

“Fine,” she said shortly, “I’m 22. Born and raised in Louisiana, moved to California when I was 17.”

“What about your job? I can’t really tell them you’re a whore,” John said.

She rolled her eyes, “Easy, I’m not. But you can tell them whatever you want.”

“Well… what do you want to be?” he asked.

She thought for a moment, “A racecar driver.”

“How about a politician?” he suggested.

“Should I be a Democrat or Republican?”

“Be Independent, that’s pretty neutral,” he said.

“How did we meet?” she asked.

“Mutual friends. We’ve been dating for two months,” John said. “Your hair is a little messy. You might want to fix that.”

“Seriously, why can’t you find a date?” she asked sarcastically as they pulled up to a fancy looking building.

“I don’t know. Why can’t you?” he asked curtly before putting the car in park and climbing out.

She followed him in reluctantly. This really was going to be miserable. He led her to a table where boys that all looked and dressed like John sat with their dates. They all looked at her expectantly, and she knew what they were thinking. She didn’t look like a prostitute, she looked clean and normal.

“Um, this is Kennedy, Pat, Jared, and Garrett,” he said awkwardly.

“I’m Scarlett,” she smiled, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Most of the girls gave her disapproving looks and she realized that they knew too. Why did she even agree to this? He better pay her well, or else she’ll really regret this. She sat down next to the girl that was with Garrett.

She smiled warmly, “Your dress is really pretty.”

She didn’t really know what to say, she wasn’t used to being complimented, “Thank you.”

“I’m Jamie,” she said, “Don’t be intimidated by all the other girls. They won’t be around long.”

“I won’t be either,” she told her, “How long have you and your boyfriend been dating?”

“Almost a year,” she said, “It’s pretty hard with them always on the road, but we make it through. How long have you been seeing John?”

“Just two months,” she shrugged, “Nothing too serious yet.”

Jamie shook her head, “I swear, that boy does not know a good girl if she punched him in the face. Who knows, maybe you’ll stick it through.”

She tried not to roll her eyes at the girl’s blind enthusiasm, “Yeah, we’ll see.”

She felt a hand on her knee and got goose bumps involuntarily as she looked at John, “Uh, Scarlett, this is Mike Reed. He works at the label.”

She shook his hand, “It’s so nice to meet you. This is a great party.”

“Thank you,” Mike said, “You two make a great couple.”

“Thanks man,” John said.

Mike sat down at the table with them and she took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. She was scared she would say the wrong thing. But he seemed friendly enough and after all, it didn’t matter what she said.

“So, Scarlett do you play an instrument or have any interest in music?”

John chuckled and looked at her, “Mike is always trying to sign new artists.”

She laughed softly, “I played the trumpet when I was younger. But then I realized I would never be in a jazz band and I stopped.”

“That’s too bad,” Mike said, “What kind of job do you have?”

“I’m going to school full time for a major in political silence. I want to be a senator some day,” she said.

“Big dreams,” he said approvingly, “What are your feelings on global warming?”

He was asking like it was a joke, coming up with the most politically controversial topic anyone could think of. But he was seriously asking. She looked at John and he nodded his head as if she was asking for approval.

“Well, personally, I think we need to stop worrying about how uncertain our future is and focus on what is tearing apart the present,” she said.

He laughed to lighten the mood that had become slightly more serious, “Like what?”

“Like the kids living in poverty just down the street from billionaires. Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

More people around them had not so casually joined the conversation and another man asked, “How can you say to not worry about the future?”

“I’m saying that if we don’t focus on the present then there won’t be a future. This economy could crumble in a second, but what are the congressmen doing? Worrying about who will vote for them next election based on the decision they make for budget cuts. We’re ruining ourselves before we even get the chance to see what we can do,” she said.

Mike grinned at her and she realized the point of his question. It wasn’t because he was interested in her thoughts; it was because he wanted to see if she was smart. He looked at John and patted him on the back, “She’s a keeper, John Oh.”

He walked away and she observed that small groups had broken off into political conversations. She looked at John, “How’d I do, boyfriend?”

The left side of his lips lifted into a playful smirk, “Great.”

Another boy sat down next to John and mumbled something in his ear that prompted John to look at her and hold out his hand, “May I have this dance?”

She took his hand hesitantly and they moved to the open floor where mostly older couples were dancing to the slow song radiating through the speakers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he along her waist.

He wouldn’t meet her eyes, like he was honestly ashamed of her. She couldn’t really blame him. “What did that guy say to you?”

“Oh, that was Tim, He said I wasn’t selling you enough,” John said, “And that I shouldn’t count on you to see yourself.”

“What an asshole,” she said brashly, “What’s the big deal, anyways? Why do they care that you have a girlfriend?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said.

She rolled her eyes, “Just trying to make conversations.”

“You could start by refraining from lifting your eyes to the ceiling every time I speak,” he said.

“Well then you should stop driving me there,” she snapped back.

The boy that had told John to sell it more suddenly appeared with his date as they moved past the couple. He gave John a stern look and then her a disapproving one before moving away.

Now John was rolling his eyes before he finally looked at his date. She knew what he was asking before he even had to, after all, this was her business. She pressed her lips against his tightly before pulling away after only a few seconds. She figured they should probably keep it classy.

“Uh.. I-” he stammered, “Thank you.”

She nodded her head and he automatically kept their torsos touching. It almost felt like she was wanted for the first time in so many years. But then she remembered that this was just a job. Soon he would pay her for a job well done and he would never see her again.

It took a certain kind of person to be in this profession, and she wasn’t sure she had ever been strong enough.

The song ended and they went back to their table. Mike Reed stepped onto the stage and gushed about a band called The Maine, and by John’s blushed cheeks she figured it was his band. Then he introduced them and soon every boy at the table was standing and walking to the stage.

All of the girls at the table looked bored as they stared aimlessly at their cell phones or at anything else but the stage. Except Jamie. She had a huge grin on her face as she watched Garrett. And he always smiled back at her, too.

She felt slightly jealous that she didn’t have anyone to smile at her like that. She dismissed the feeling in the pit of her stomach as it begging for food.

The girl listened as John sang beautifully. It was unexpected, to say the least. His eyes were closed and he showed more emotion then he had the entire night. He truly looked at peace, and she wondered why he didn’t look so happy all the time.

The band finished their song and Mike finished complimenting them, bringing everyone in the room to their feet in applause. The Maine was Mike Reed’s pride and joy. She wondered what it felt like.

The boys took pictures with a bunch of men in suits. She felt her phone vibrate in her clutch purse and she quietly excused herself to a corner of the room that wasn’t as loud. It was near where the boys were taking pictures and she gave John a sweet smile so that everyone would see.

She answered her phone, “Hey.”

“When are you coming home?”

“I’m not sure, kiddo. It’s either going to be a long night or a short one. Did you find something to eat?” she asked.

“Ramen noodles,” she said, disappointed, “Again.”

“Ally, I’m sorry. I’ll take you out after this pay check. Just get to bed, okay? You have soccer practice in the morning,” she said.

“You’re not my mom,” the girl said, annoyed.

“I can’t deal with your teenage hormones right now, but I’m all you’ve got, okay little sister? Now get to sleep,” she said.

“Be careful,” Ally said after a long sigh before she hung up.

She took her place back at the table and one of the girls across from her spoke; she thought that maybe she was with… Kennedy? “One of your clients?”

Her heart sunk and she began to panic, “Um… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, “We all know what you are, Scarlett.”

She bit her lip and her eyes involuntary filled with tears at this girl’s attack. She tried to smile sweetly but the girl rolled her eyes and stood, throwing a drink all over her dress. The room fell silent.

The blonde snickered, “Maybe John can buy you a new one after he pays you for the sex.”

Jamie stood and placed her hand on the crying shocked girls shoulder, “Kennedy doesn’t even like you, whore. Get out of here.”

The drenched girl stood and tried to hold back the tears, but it was hopeless. They were already streaming down her face. She ran as fast as her heels would allow out the door and collapsed against the wall outside.

The door opened almost seconds later and John found her. She stood and walked briskly away from him.

“Just leave me alone!” she yelled.

“Scarlett, wait,” he begged.

She turned to face him and shouted, “You don’t even know my name!”

He stopped dead in his tracks and his face looked so sad she almost felt bad. But then she didn’t. This was all his fault. He didn’t reply and she rolled her eyes, “I’m leaving. Free of charge.”

“How will you get home?” he asked.

“I’ll call a cab,” she said.

“Let me drive you home,” John said.

“Yeah, right,” she actually laughed out loud, “Just go join your stupid friends and laugh at my expense. That’s what this was about, right? Bring some whore for entertainment?”

“No Scar-” he stopped himself, “I don’t want to go back in there with those people. Let me drive you… at least back to the hotel.”

She sighed as she stomped to John’s car, realizing she didn’t even have enough money for a taxi ride.

“So… what is your name?” he asked.

“Carson,” she said, disgruntled.

“Carson from Louisiana. What else should I know?” he asked, obviously trying to be nice to make up for what happened.

She looked at him, “Nothing. You don’t need to know anything more about me.”

Once they got to the hotel she immediately stepped out of his car and started off towards the garage to get to her car. But John’s voice stopped her.

“Carson, let me feed you at least. You didn’t touch any of the food at the party,” he said.

“I don’t want anything from you,” she said.

“Please,” he held his hand out for her to take, “Give me a chance.”

Her mind was telling her to spit in his face but something else was making her want to say yes. And so she did so reluctantly. Carson put her inferior hand in his, “Fine. But just for the food.”

They got back up to the room and Carson stripped her dress. She was left only in her underwear and bra and by John averting his eyes she realized he wasn’t as comfortable as she was.

“Do you have a shirt, or something?” she asked. John handed her an oversized tee that went down to barely cover her butt.

John ordered almost everything off the room service menu and Carson waited anxiously. She saw a small baggy and lifted it, “You smoke?”

“Occasionally. You want some?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, “Thanks.”

The food arrived soon after and Carson indulged, taking advantage of the fact that he was paying.

“Who were you talking on the phone to at the party?” John asked.

“My little sister.”

“Does she live with you?” he questioned.

“Yeah. She’s fifteen… a complete drama queen,” she smiled a little.

He laughed, “I have a teenage brother. I totally understand.”

“She’s a nightmare, but she’s my best friend,” Carson said.

“What happened to your parents?” he asked bluntly. He felt like they were passed unnecessary tip-toeing.

She cleared her throat and smoke quietly, “They died… in Hurricane Katrina.”

“I’m so sorry, Carson,” he said sadly, “So you do… this to support your sister?”

“Yep. We had to start over… we had to get out of there. But I didn’t graduate high school and I can only work part-time at a restaurant so this is my night job.”

“So you sleep with creepy men for money? There has to be other things you can do,” he sighed.

Carson knew he wouldn’t understand. She wasn’t sure if she could even make sense of it herself. But he would never know what it was like moving across country with no money in your pocket and a young girl still wondering when her parents are coming back. Ally understood now, of course, but she desperately needed stability.

Carson tried to keep Ally sheltered from the life she led at night, but she knew. And she didn’t judge her, but she begged her to stop.

“Your parents didn’t leave you any money?” he interjected.

“They were in debt. We lived in the bayous, you know, the bad part of town down there. We couldn’t touch a penny of their life insurance because the bank threatened to come after us,” she said.

“And the government didn’t help you?”

“A lot of people got washed over. Especially the poor kids,” her eyes filled with tears, “It’s kind of sensitive.”

“So that’s why you want to be a politician? To fix what’s wrong,” he said.

“You were the one that assumed I wanted to be one,” she laughed.

“But you’re passionate about it,” John said, “I can tell.”

She ignored the topic that was verging on being personal, “You were pretty good tonight. I mean… your band.”

“Thanks,” he smiled slightly, “It makes it worth it.”

“All of those people at your label… they seem to really love you guys,” Carson said.

“They love the money we make them,” he scoffed.

“Tell me why you had to bring a date,” she said tentatively.

He shrugged, “People want to see their heroes happy. We are that labels heroes. Apparently they expressed concern that my writing was only average because I don’t have a girlfriend. It’s complete bullshit.”

“Why do you put up with it?”

“Because they still let me play the music I love. Most of them aren’t unbearable, but it’s just parties and events like these that bring out the worst in them,” he said, seeming like he didn’t want to be defending them.

“You like to be alone, huh?” Carson asked.

“I like to think, which is hard to do with people around. I enjoy my own company, that’s not a bad thing right?” he asked.

“If you can be alone with your own thoughts, than I would take advantage of it,” she said.

“You can’t?”

She chewed the inside of her lip until it bled, “Not when they only remind of what I do wrong.”

He frowned in sympathy, “Sorry.”

Carson nodded her head to change the subject and finished off the ice cream they had ordered, “Will you hand me my purse?”

John reached for the bag that was close to him, and when he handed it to her a small vial fell out of one of the side pockets. He held it between his fingers, “What the hell is this?”

She scrambled to grab it out of his hands, “It’s nothing.”

“Are you fucking serious?” he asked, standing up and holding it in front of her face.

“Oh sorry. I forgot you totally have a right to have some kind of holier than thou attitude,” she rolled her eyes, snatching it from his hands.

“I asked you if you wanted weed, not cocaine! This shit is serious!” he shouted.

“You don’t think I know!?” she yelled right back, standing too, “I’m not some kind of addict that can’t see her own problem!”

He took it back from her and stormed to the bathroom. She followed him and tried to grab his strong arms. He opened up the toilet seat and held it tauntingly above the water.

“Don’t you dare,” she growled.

He easily poured the entire small, glass bottle into the toilet. She screeched, “John!”

He pushed down on the handle and flushed the toilet and Carson watched it go down in despair. She turned to face John who had his hands on his hips, the disapproving look only making her angrier.

She slapped his face, “You had no right.”

“I had every right. This is my hotel room,” he said, not like that even meant a thing.

She pushed past him, “I’m leaving then.”

Carson packed her things and as she walked to the door he caught her wrist, “You said you weren’t an addict, so stay here and prove it! Show me you aren’t going to have a withdrawal and make me see you’re not a coke head.”

“I don’t need you to see I’m not a drug addict! I never have to see you again and that’s how it should be,” she said.

“No, no, no,” he laughed sardonically, “I know girls like you and you’ll do anything to prove me wrong.”

“Damn right,” she said.

“Then stay,” John said, “Please prove me wrong.”

“Is this supposed to be some kind of effort you’re going to make to fix me? I don’t need to be changed,” she said, throwing her purse down on the bed.

“Sure you don’t,” he said as he sat down on the bed, “Want to watch a movie?”

She rolled her eyes, and laid back, her head resting on the pillow, “No.”

He lay down next to her and they both stared at the ceiling. A few tears began to fall from her lids.

John looked at her and she spoke, “I don’t do it because I like the way it feels.”

“So why do you do it then?”

“To escape.”

“Escape what?” he asked.

She used her arm to prop her up, “I’m not the kind of girl to sleep around. After every single time for the first few months, I cried myself to sleep. I never thought I would do that kind of thing. But then another girl told me she did coke to numb the feeling.”

“So you do it before each appointment?” he asked.

“That’s the only time,” Carson said, “I’m able to go off into a different world and forget what I’m actually doing.”

“But it’s only a temporary fix, right?” he asked, “You still remember it when you go home.”

“I cut my losses with that one,” she said.

“Then just stop doing it,” he said, sitting up now too, “Throw your client book away.”

“How do I make money, John? How do I support my little sister?” she asked.

“Find another damn job! Get the rights you deserve that you never took advantage of. You can get out, only if you want to,” he said.

She let the tears fall freely now and John put his hand on her arm, offering comfort. She collapsed flat on the bed and he embraced her. She curled up into his arms.

“Do it for Ally,” he whispered.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked through her sobs.

“I had you figured out the second you took off that wig. It takes a strong person to throw away any selfishness and do anything she needs to make sure others can thrive. I would kill to be that strong,” he said.

“Do you think I can do it?” she asked.

“I know you can,” he replied.

Carson didn’t know if it was the lack of compassionate human contact she had had in the last year, or the fact that her heart was beginning to ache at the thought she had let herself get in so deep. But she wanted to change, she wanted to be better.

They fell asleep in that position, Carson cuddled tightly into John’s chest. She woke up before he did and slipped out of his embrace. She went to the bathroom and combed her hair down with her fingers. Her eyes were still puffy and red, but her body felt so much lighter.

Like it wasn’t being weighted down by her indiscretions. She looked out the window at the view of downtown Los Angeles, and was able to see the beauty in it. Like so many she found it as the place that broke her dreams, but now she saw it differently.

It would forever be the place that changed her, and then the place that changed her back.

It was time to go back home.

She shook John awake and smiled at him, resting her hand on his chest, “I have to go.”

He held onto her hand, “No breakfast?”

“I usually make Ally some before she goes to school. Thanks for everything, John,” she said.

“Did you make a decision?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “I’m going to go home.”

“Good,” he said, “If you ever find your way back to the west coast, come to Arizona.”

She nodded her head, “I will.”

Carson leaned down and kissed his lips sweetly. When she pulled away he spoke again, “Hopefully you’ll find your way back sooner rather than later.”

She stood, “Call me when your band is in Louisiana. I’ll show you how us New Orleans girls do it.”

He smiled, “I can’t wait.”

Carson bid him one last goodbye before she left his hotel room that probably forever altered her life. She saw the do not disturb sign she had hung last night when she got here and it only added to the fuel in her bones that told her to get out of there. She was a different girl walking out of this familiar hotel.

Back in the room John stood up and stretched out his lanky limbs, he went to go to the bathroom but stopped when he saw what was in the trashcan by the door. The brown leather was tattered and one of the buttons wasn’t fastened.

It was her client book.