Chapter 15 – The Internet Never Forgets

The sun was already beating through the thin curtains when Chloe’s phone jolted her awake from a deep, exhausted sleep. It was 11 a.m. She had slept for more than twelve hours, and yet her body felt as if it had been run over by a truck.

The phone continued to ring, vibrating on the wobbly nightstand. She reached out an arm, her muscles protesting at the movement. Her knees ached, and her throat… God, her throat felt swollen.

Ben Ziegler’s name lit up on the display.

She cleared her throat and answered. “Hello?” The word came out as a hoarse croak.

“Sunshine!” Ben’s voice was unusually energetic, almost euphoric. “Were you still asleep? Anyway, listen, I have great news!”

Chloe sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?” Her voice was still scratchy, but at least the words were understandable.

“Your CCC video went online last night.” He paused dramatically. “The numbers are absolutely insane. Five times as many views as normal on the first day. Maven says the scene went viral on Threadit or something. Randy just called me, the guy was completely ecstatic. Says you’re the best thing that’s happened to the channel in years.”

She forced herself to sound enthusiastic, even though her throat was burning. “Oh my God, really? That’s incredible!”

“And that’s not all,” Ben continued, his voice dripping with smugness. “Marc from Throat Me got in touch too. They love the material you shot yesterday. The video will be out in a few days, and I bet it will be well received now that there’s demand for you.”

Chloe heard the change in his tone. Yesterday, she had been just another new performer for him, one of many. Today, she was an investment that was paying off. She was now valuable to him.

“Listen,” Ben said, “we should celebrate. And I want to get to know you better. Not just business, you know? I’ll pick you up at eight tonight, and we’ll go out to dinner. Somewhere fancy.”

Of course you want to get to know me better, Chloe thought snorting inwardly, but Chloe Heart replied, “That sounds wonderful! I’m looking forward to it!”

“Perfect. Wear something nice, Sunshine. See you tonight.”

He hung up without waiting for a reply. She hated that habit.

Chloe dropped the phone on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. Her curiosity fought with a deep sense of unease. The video was out there. Her video. With Randy fucking Miles.

She grabbed her laptop, typed in the address for Naughty Net, and searched for Casting Couch Cuties. The page loaded, and there it was, the thumbnail. Her face, that practiced smile, the bedroom eyes. Had she really looked like that? It looked like her and yet like a stranger at the same time.

She hesitated for a moment, then clicked.

The video started with the usual CCC intro, then she appeared on the infamous black leather sofa. “Hi! I’m Chloe!” Her own voice, so damn enthusiastic, so fake.

Randy’s voice from off-screen: “Okay, Chloe, tell us about yourself. Why are you here?”

She heard herself giggling. “Oh my God, I’ve always dreamed of doing this! I love sex and I love challenging myself, you know?”

She forced herself to keep watching, even as the interview moved into the physical part. She saw herself get down on her knees, saw Randy’s hands on her body, heard her own stupid porn talk, the fake moans. The camera captured everything, every moment, every angle.

That’s me. That’s not me.

The separation between Chloe Thompson, sitting on the bed watching, and Chloe Heart, performing on the screen, was so disorienting that it almost made her dizzy. And yet… as she continued to watch, she felt her body react. A slight tingling, an involuntary warmth between her legs. Her nipples hardened under her thin T-shirt.

Fuck.

She clicked pause. The still image showed her on all fours on the sofa, spreading her cheeks for Randy as he penetrated her. The video worked exactly as it was supposed to. It was designed to arouse, and it did, even though she knew how calculated and mechanical and degrading it all had been.

She scrolled down to the comments. Dozens already, even though the video had only been online since last night. Most were exactly what she had expected. Crude, objectifying, enthusiastic. Men rating her body parts, analyzing her performance, discussing whether she was “real” or just acting.

The view counter showed over sixty thousand. In less than twenty-four hours.

Chloe closed her laptop and just sat there for a moment. The weight of what she had done pressed on her chest like a physical burden.

This is permanent. This is out there forever. The internet never forgets.

There was no going back. Anyone could see it. Anyone from her past could stumble across it. Her old school friends, the neighbors from Oak Springs, even…

Never mind.

She took a deep breath, forced her shoulders back.

It’s done. You have to look forward. Always forward.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had eaten nothing but ice cream since yesterday afternoon. But the thought of solid food… her throat hurt just swallowing saliva.

She got up, went into the small kitchen, and filled a glass with water. The first sip burned, but it helped a little. She had to get her voice in shape for tonight. Ben wanted to “get to know her better”, whatever that meant in his twisted world.

The next few hours passed in a kind of fog. She did her yoga routine, even though every movement hurt. She showered, scrolled through social media, and saw that Ben, or more likely Maven, had already taken over the marketing for the new scene for her, but she replied to a few of the numerous comments that came in.

Around seven in the evening, she stood in front of her small wardrobe and thought about what to wear. “Something nice”, Ben had said. She decided on the little black dress and black high heels. Neither had been particularly expensive, and it showed, but she simply didn’t have anything better at the moment.

The makeup was a different question. She didn’t want to overdo it, because this wasn’t a porn shoot, after all. She found a subtle balance. Enough to look pretty, because she was Chloe Heart tonight, but not so much that it looked cheap. She let her hair down and brushed it until it shone nicely.

In the mirror, she looked… good. Not like Chloe Thompson from Oak Springs, but not like the Chloe Heart from the video she just watched either. Something in between. A version of Chloe Heart that would work for dinner with her sleazy agent.

She walked over, sat down on the edge of the bed, and mentally went over what she wanted to find out that evening.

She had to steer the conversation toward Samantha somehow, but discreetly, so it wouldn’t be too obvious. Basically, she was interested in everything. The conflicts, tensions and all the old stories. Maybe that would lead to suspects she didn’t know anything about yet.

Her strategy was relatively simple. Men like Ben loved to talk about themselves, and they especially loved it when they felt they could explain something to a woman. She would use that.

Ben should feel like her mentor, the wise veteran explaining the world to the naive newcomer. He should feel free to show off and brag and demonstrate how important he was, as long as he kept talking. And she would listen, nod, say “Oh!” and “Ah!” and ask the right questions about his successes and his glorious past.

Her alarm went off. 7:45 p.m. Time to go downstairs.

Outside, the air was still warm and heavy, but luckily she didn’t have to wait long. She heard the engine before she saw the car. A deep, expensive, loud purr that didn’t fit in this neighborhood at all.

A real show-off car, dark blue with a trident on the radiator grille, pulled up to the curb and stopped right next to her. Ben got out, and Chloe had to force herself not to roll her eyes. He was wearing a silky, shiny suit that probably cost twice as much as her monthly rent but still looked off the rack on him because he had probably had it tailor-made when he weighed 30 pounds less.

“Sunshine!” He came around the car, playing the gentleman. “You look stunning.”

His gaze slid over her body, lingering a tiny moment too long on her cleavage, but he didn’t stare too obviously.

“Thanks, Ben!” She forced enthusiasm into her voice and gave him a Chloe Heart smile. “You look great too! Is that Hugo Boss?”

He grinned smugly. “Tailor-made.” He opened the passenger door with an exaggerated gesture. “Your carriage awaits, princess.”

Princess. Sure. And you’re my Prince Charming with a receding hairline and a Viagra prescription?

She slid into the leather seat and Ben closed the door, walked around the car, dropped into the driver’s seat, and started the engine. “I hope you’re hungry. The restaurant I picked is one of the best in Valley City.”

“I can’t wait!” In fact, her stomach growled at that very moment. She was really damn hungry by now and wouldn’t feel the slightest bit guilty about eating her fill at Ben’s expense. If it was even possible to eat your fill at some fancy-ass restaurant like that.

His car glided into traffic, and Valley City passed by the tinted windows. The run-down apartments in her neighborhood gradually gave way to office buildings, then fancier stores, then restaurants and bars where people who could afford to pay twenty bucks for a cocktail went.

Ben placed one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually on the gearshift. The heavy gold ring he wore made a little clicking sound on the wood inlays of the gear knob every time he shifted up.

“You know,” he said as they stopped at a red light, “I don’t do this with all my talents. Taking them to dinner, I mean.”

Of course not. Only with those where you calculate your chances.

“That’s really nice of you,” she said instead, gratefully squeezing his hand on the gear knob. “I appreciate it.”

He nodded, pleased with himself. The light turned green, and his car purred on through the night. “We’ll be there soon,” he said.