Face to face

Thoughts flash through your mind. Your name is Victoria - though everyone calls you Vicki. Or Mistress, if they've been especially naughty. You grew up in the city, headed out here, it doesn't matter how you stumbled into this life. It pays well, and you keep yourself healthy; you've always been this deathly pale, and a lot of clients like the vampiress look. The red hair is fake, but adds to the effect. You shake your head, trying to recover from the new thoughts.

"Sorry, lover," you sigh, leaning forward to uncuff your John and pull off the leather hood. "That's all you get for what you paid. And I've got other clients a'waitin'."

You trace a fingernail, sharpened delicately, across his throat, then climb off. There's noise on the stairwell. You take a quick breath. Showtime.

You swing open the door. "What's going on out here, hmm?" you purr, in your perfect Vicki impersonation. The agent of the boss is staring at the Elena suit, out on the landing. He spins round as you give him a sultry smile, then a look of confusion and horror as you sight the clothes on the floor. Vicki's instincts for this part of town say you don't ask questions here.

The agent looks at you. For a moment he looks about ready to fire, as if he knows you've taken on a new guise. But then he sees the John inside, without his mask. He seems to take forever as he studies you, then decides you're who you appear to be. There's no way you could replace a prostitute without her client seeing, is there?

"Nothing," he snaps at you. "Get the fuck back inside."

"Hmm,OK..."

You do as Vicki would, and close the door. A sigh of relief escapes your new lips.

"OK, honey," you smile. "Show's over. Time to get those clothes of yours back on. I'll be on the balcony getting some air."

(Author: Collider)