Before long, I realise that grocery shopping is my expense and that Ali sometimes goes into my purse, without asking me, when he calls the dealer or goes out with his friends for a drink.
Less than two weeks later, we’ve pretty much eaten and sniffed up all the money I managed to make during three months of whoredom in Istanbul.
Shit! My sisters are making money and I don’t even know what to do? Again, Natalia is swimming in the chocolate with her super-cool Russian boyfriend, while I am wasting my time and my money on some good-fuck-flop, and proving to myself that she was right!
I gently try to point out the problem to Ali, suggesting that now is the best time to get back together with his father. ‘Baby, I know your relationship with your folks is not easy, but my money is almost finished and you need to do something about that.’
‘Don’t worry, Jul. I will sort it out.’ He waves me off.
That’s it? ‘I will sort it out’?
The next day is Friday and Ali comes back from university quite late and already tipsy.
‘Beautiful, I am going out with my friends for a couple of drinks. It’s Zafer’s birthday. Could you lend me two hundred bucks?’
He kicks his shoes off. They fly in different directions. He heads towards the bedroom, probably to get changed. His drunken voice is irritably happy-go-lucky.
‘I am sorry, but you know I have only three hundred left and we still have to try to stretch that… until you make up with your father.’ I answer loudly so he can hear me from the kitchen and add as much sarcasm as possible to my last sentence, trying to make him understand that I do not buy it anymore.
He comes back to the living room with a bull-like stare. ‘Did you just say no to me?’
I am very surprised by the striking change in his mood. Before I say anything, his eyes narrow and he hisses, ‘If you are having such money difficulties, maybe you should stop being lazy and go earn some? I could make a few arrangements with my friends… of course, they are students and can’t pay you $200, but you will be a smash hit for $50 per night, I promise…’
He is distant and cold. The scorn splashes out like he is a spitting cobra.
‘Are you fucking serious?’ I am stunned. I can’t believe my ears.
‘What, Victoria?’ He pauses to watch my reaction. ‘Is there a problem? In fact, I could call my buddies now and ask if any of them want – tonight, after our little party – to check if I was right about your sucking skills or to nail your little hooker pussy, which, honestly, I am tired of already. That would help us to stretch the money, right?’ He relishes every word, filling each one with pure disgust.
‘So, are you a pimp now?’ I calmly taunt him. I am even more surprised by my self-possession than he is. Usually this kind of shit would hurt me and turn me into a screaming, weeping hysteric.
Oh crap! Don’t tell me I am getting used to all the shit that keeps happening to me!
‘Why don’t you go and let your friends fuck you in your ass instead?’ I throw in the same calm way, while heading to the bedroom. ‘I believe I’ve overstayed my welcome here; time to move on. Oh… and I assume there is going to be no repayment, you little swollen-headed prick?’
‘Get out of my place, you fucking whore! I am done with you!’
I don’t even listen when Ali tags along and jumps into the bedroom, shouting offensive stuff at me. I silently pack my suitcases and leave.
Again.
52
Luckily I left before it was too late.
I still had some money to hire a cab, find a cheap hotel in Aksaray and not worry about living on the street – at least for a couple of days.
Unbelievable! I am in deep shit and still find the positive side of my situation!
I had to make a quick decision about what to do next and the only realistic option that came to me the night I left Ali’s apartment was to go back to business as a floozy, but not a call girl. The arrangement is simple: I go out dressed like a normal sexy chick. Then, usually on the dance floor or at the bar, I hook up with a male. For a few drinks I play I-am-horny-and-I-want-to-be-your-girlfriend with him, making sure that at the moment I tell him about the fees involved if he wants to take it further, he is aroused enough for ‘no’ not to be an option.
You would be surprised to know how many men feel relief, after slight disappointment, when they find out that the girl they have met is a pro. They don’t have to go to too much effort to try to impress me and to get to fuck me. They get a fun evening and guaranteed sex, so they can relax and be themselves.
Inna had told me about the disco bars at which the only girls were filles de joie. The male clientele attending them were mostly aware of that, visiting the bars to get laid. The problem was I didn’t know where those places were. I had no one to ask. That is why for the last few days I’ve been hanging out in a dodgy bar next to my dodgy hotel. I managed to convince a few guys to buy my services, but their appearance and financial status were very much below average. I sucked their skanky cocks to earn just enough to pay for the hotel room and to sustain my romance with the stimulants.
I am surprised, but I don’t feel too heartbroken about Ali. I am really fine. I guess lately I am always fine as long as I maintain my high.
Obviously, I don’t want to admit to myself that my attachment to the powder is now beyond manageable. The tricky part is that I know that I am fucked up already, that I can no longer control myself to stop or at least cut down, even if I wanted to. But nowadays my brain obeys and serves only my addiction. It plays tricks on me – convincing me that I could end it as soon as I make my mind up to do it, and that I continue because I just don’t really want to stop yet, making sure that I will supply my body with the next dose in time.
So I didn’t even notice the loss of my greatest passion and affection for Ali – simply because my brain decided not to make a big deal out of it so that it didn’t distract me from getting my next hit.
53
‘Would you like to have some fun?’
I turn towards the voice. There is a short but handsome and well-dressed man standing next to me.
Here we go… that’s exactly what I need right now!
Without waiting for my answer he orders a vodka Red Bull and ‘whatever this pretty lady wants’ while pointing at me. Despite me being loaded already, I shout through the loud music, ‘The same, but double.’
I am finally in one of those places that Inna was talking about. It’s a sizable nightclub, with an up-to-date DJ and stylish interior, promoted over time by its owners from a regular disco bar to a well-known spot for always-available ladies of pleasure.
I light a cigarette and point at the drinks that the bartender, rushed off his feet, has just dropped on the counter in front of us.
‘Is that your idea of fun?’
I flirt excessively, lifting my right eyebrow and giving my best hooker smile, making sure that the only message he gets from my body language is ‘eminently interested’.
He laughs, throwing his head back. ‘Wow, you are fun already!’ Then he pulls a sealed little plastic bag, with some champagnecoloured blocks in it.
‘Is that what you have in mind?’ A wide smile frolics on his face as he teases, shaking the bag then quickly hiding it back in his pocket.
‘Now we’re talking,’ I say quietly and look away at the same time, trying not to give away too much of my excitement to my potential employer. I take a generous sip and turn back to him, putting my hooker-in-action face on again. ‘My name is Julia, and yes, I would like to have some fun…’