Flying InMature

I got the letter a day after my high school graduation. It was a plain envelope, sender address and the addressee both typed out, not handwritten. White, the standard kind of envelope- nothing special about it at all. But it was, in fact important as all hell. It held a plane ticket, and a piece of stationery with a golden emblem at the very top- very rich looking. The plane ticket was self-explanatory, but the words typed in Arial Black sent my heart racing:
July 15- Come See Me.


First Class. Not that that was overly important- I'd never been on a plane before so I wouldn't have known the difference. What I did know was that First Class meant money. I mean, I knew Matt had money- he made a mess on thousand thread count Egyptian cotton sheets every time we Skyped. But a First Class Flight? He definitely had more money than I had predicted. He said that he worked in an office of a corporate business- but,now that I think about it, I never had asked the details of what his job really was. Curiosity killed the cat, and I've long since learned that repetitive questions only piss him off.
            "Miss?" I looked up into the eyes of a guy who looked to be my age, give or take a few years. Hm, sexy jawline- soft, yet chiseled- and model worthy cheekbones, and perfect lips. Bet he's a great kisser.  
            "Excuse me, Miss?" I blink, not really use to being talked to so politely- Matt talks dirty all the time, no matter the topic. I stop my thoughts and smile at the hottie standing in front of me.

             "Sorry, I'm just all over the place today- did you say something to me?" He smiled back at me, and I forgot to breathe for a split second. He was damned sexy. I mean, I really do love a nice smile.

              "My seat is on the other side of you- would you mind standing so I can get through? I don't want to hurt you trying to get pass." Hmm. Polite, courteous, and oh-so-attractive. He has a 'respectable' girlfriend no doubt. Sigh.

             "Oh, sure. Definitely." I stand- not too fast, not too slow- and smile as I notice the grateful look he wore as he took me in. Girlfriend or not, guys love a girl like me. They have a built in whore radar, I swear it. 
                      " Please sit down and fasten your seatbelts for take off" 
As soon as the plane took off and the wifi was made available, the hottie was Skyping his blonde girlfriend ( Figures!) and had forgotten all about me. No worries though- I'm used to that.

See, I grew up scraping by. Mum was dead by the time I was five- overdose I think it was. After her death, my Da remarried to Jack Daniels and hasn't been anything close to sober since.  The bitter bastard still blames me, I think, for her dying. I personally think it was because he's a total asshole that she overdosed, but what do I know? Anyway, it really wasn't a surprise to me that I'd have to survive on my own. Once i turned 12, I started working in the streets. I may have been young, but I looked at least 16 or older if I was trying. For four years, I jumped from club to club dancing as a stripper and getting a pretty good cash flow. I never stayed too long at one place though, that would gain me too much attention and someone would start asking questions. Then, when I turned 16, I started as a call girl for the wealthy- I've screwed so many of my classmates fathers it's ridiculous. But, they always paid more than my stripper gigs- I think its was the guilt, but I don't know nor care really. 

For a few hours,I look over hottie-with-a-blonde-bimbo-girlfriend and peer out the window, trying to discern whether the sky looked any different from L.A. A lot cleaner, but that was about it. The flight attendant's voice came over the intercom:

" We are preparing to land- please fasten your seatbelts. And Welcome

                                                                       to Miami!"

She sounded so fucking peppy- rather annoying since it was completely obvious from when she offered me refreshments earlier that she hated her job. I fastened the seatbelt just as my phone began to ring "I'm On the Edge" by Lady Gaga- I know, I know it's fucking obnoxious but I don't really care. I dug through my purse and pulled out my Iphone. I know, I may have started out as a stripper, but that didn't mean I was stuck in the Dark Ages when it came to technology- I actually usually had the newest stuff weeks before they came out. Perks of fucking only the wealthiest. I read the text and cursed under my breath. 

“Meet me at the alleyway between Green and Fowl. M”

The plane landed without a single jolt, but I was on edge- every nerve was jumping and I was suddenly very anxious. I quickly texted back, knowing I'd be punished if i made him wait: 

"Yes sir, What time should I be there? R"

Green and Fowl?Dammit Matt, where the fuck was that?! 


The End

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