Chapter 22 – Meeting Elena
by Kleo EriliChloe woke up with a start from a deep, exhausted sleep. Her phone was vibrating insistently somewhere under the pillow. She fumbled for it, her eyes still half closed, and squinted at the display.
11:15 a.m.
Damn. Sleeping in this late shouldn’t become a habit.
Her body still felt heavy as lead. Memories of last night’s party came back to her. The pink champagne glasses. The groping hands. Elena vomiting.
Three new messages lit up the screen. All from Steve Balls.
Chloe stared at the messages and felt her jaw tense. The guy just didn’t get that “maybe” meant “no, but I don’t want to be rude” in adult language.
I’ll deal with it later. She swiped the notifications away. Much later. Or never.
She dropped her phone on the mattress and rubbed her eyes. Her mouth felt dry as dust. Last night, there had only been champagne, which she hadn’t touched.
Just as she was about to sit up, the phone vibrated again. This time it was a call.
Elena Rodriguez.
Chloe’s heartbeat immediately quickened. She quickly cleared her throat and answered.
“Hello?”
“Chloe!” Elena’s voice sounded surprisingly clear, if a little bashful. “Hey, I… I hope I’m not waking you up?”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Chloe forced herself to sound more awake. “But how are you?”
A short pause. “Better. Much better.” Elena laughed sheepishly. “God, last night… that was so embarrassing. I can hardly remember half of it.”
“You were pretty wasted,” Chloe said cautiously.
“I know. And you…” Elena’s voice warmed. “You got me out of there. Before I made a complete fool of myself. Thank you. Really.”
Chloe felt a small spark of satisfaction in her chest. That’s exactly what I needed.
“No problem,” she said with a smile in her voice. “I couldn’t just leave you there.”
“Still.” Elena paused again. “Listen, I want to make it up to you. Let’s go to lunch. My treat. Do you know the Bistro La Plaza?”
Chloe had read the name somewhere before. Some kind of industry hot spot.
“I… think so?”
“Then you definitely don’t know it.” Elena laughed. “It’s my favorite place. We can meet there at 1 p.m. if you like? Then we’ll both have enough time to get ready.”
1 p.m. That was still an hour and a half away.
“Sounds perfect!” Chloe made her voice sound enthusiastic, Chloe Heart in full swing. Inside, however, she felt a real wave of relief. Elena was offering her exactly what she needed – Time, access, maybe trust.
“Great! It’s right on the corner of Second and Holdshire, with the big glass windows, you can’t miss it.”
“Perfect, see you then!”
“See you then, Chloe.”
The line went dead. Chloe lowered her phone and stared at the ceiling.
That’s good. That’s really good.
Her gaze wandered back to Steve’s messages on the display. Another one had arrived.
Oh my God, Steve.
She swiped the notifications away again and swung her legs out of bed. No time for annoying admirers. She had lunch with Elena Rodriguez, and it was the best chance she’d had in days.
She shuffled into the bathroom, turned on the water, and let the lukewarm shower run over her body while she already mentally went through what questions she would ask Elena and how she would most skillfully steer the conversation toward Samantha.
~
The Bistro La Plaza sat on the corner of Second and Holdshire and was indeed impossible to miss. The huge windows let the midday sun flood in, transforming the interior into a kind of golden aquarium with a warm and pleasant atmosphere.
Chloe pushed open the heavy glass door and was grateful for the air conditioning after the midday heat outside. It smelled of espresso, and the waiters were bustling about, as there were many people there at lunchtime.
Elena was sitting in the corner by the window, at one of the tables for two overlooking the street. She looked surprisingly good for someone who had been throwing up her guts less than twelve hours ago. Her black hair looked freshly washed and was tied up in a ponytail. Her makeup was subtle but perfect, and she wore a loose summer dress that showed off her tanned skin.
When she saw Chloe, her face lit up. She stood up and pulled her into a short but warm hug.
“Chloe! Thank you for coming.” Elena’s voice was warm but with an undertone of embarrassment.
“Of course.” Chloe sank into the chair opposite her. The upholstery was incredibly soft, the chair nearly swallowed her up. “You look good.”
Elena laughed. “Better than last night, you mean.”
A waiter appeared at their table. “What can I get you, ladies?”
“Iced tea for me,” Elena said. “Peach. And the menu, please!”
“Same for me,” Chloe nodded.
The waiter disappeared, and Elena leaned forward. “Chloe, I… God, this is so embarrassing. About last night…”
“Hey.” Chloe waved her off. “We’ve all had nights like that.”
“Yes, but…” Elena shook her head and let out an embarrassed laugh. “You hardly know me and then you have to drag me home like a drunk teenager. Awkward!”
“You don’t have to-“
“Yes, I do.” Elena played with her napkin, folding it, unfolding it again. “That was… embarrassing. And you really saved me there. I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” Chloe leaned back. “Everyone has a bad night sometimes.”
“At Valeria Cruz’s parties, a ‘bad night’ can mean something different than too much tequila at a birthday party.” Elena’s voice grew quieter. “Could’ve fucked up my career. Those parties… well, you were there yourself. You know what it’s like. I should have known better. Never drink on an empty stomach, especially not the pink champagne.”
The waiter returned with their drinks. Two absurdly large glasses of iced tea with enough ice to make the captain of the Titanic break out in a sweat. Elena ordered a Caesar salad and Chloe ordered a club sandwich. She was damn hungry.
“You know what,” Elena said after the waiter had disappeared again. “You were so nice to me yesterday, and I feel a little guilty because I didn’t reply to your message. Let me make it up to you. If you have any questions or need advice about the industry, or whatever, I’m here for you. God knows I wish someone had done that for me when I was starting out.”
“That would be… that would be great, honestly,” Chloe said, letting genuine relief seep into her voice.
“What’s on your mind? Is there anything specific you were worried about when you messaged me?”
Chloe hesitated. She had actually only written that as an excuse to start a conversation with Elena and ask her about Samantha, but now…
“I… I got an offer from Bound.com.”
Elena’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. That sounds good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. They’re paying fifteen hundred dollars.” Chloe played with the straw in her glass. “But I don’t know anything about BDSM. Zero. And their videos are… very intense. I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Mhm.” Elena nodded sympathetically. “I can understand that it might be a little intimidating at first. I used to work with them a lot, you know.”
“Really?”
“Yes, before my exclusive contract.” She leaned back and thought for a moment. “When I started, I wasn’t into BDSM either. I thought it was only for freaks and girls with daddy issues.”
“But?” Chloe asked. “Sounds like there’s a but.”
“But. Bound.com is professional. Really professional. They take safety very seriously. Before the camera even starts rolling, there’s a long conversation. What are your hard limits, what are your soft limits, what are you willing to try? Safewords are agreed upon, signals for when you’re gagged, check-ins during the scene.” Elena sounded almost nostalgic. “The doms there are trained and disciplined, they’re not just some guys in leather outfits with violent fantasies.”
“That sounds… somewhat reassuring.”
The food arrived and they started eating. Chloe took a hearty bite of her club sandwich.
“You know,” Elena’s voice softened, “after a while, I actually really enjoyed it. It’s… liberating, in a way. You can let it all out, all the anger, the frustration, all the crap you usually swallow. You can scream, cry, fight, everything is allowed, even encouraged. It’s almost therapeutic.” A small smile. “Sometimes I regret that I can’t shoot with them anymore because of my contract.”
Chloe took a sip of her iced tea and let that sink in. “So, you’d say I should do it?”
“If you feel ready, yes. The money is good, they treat you fairly, it can expand your range as a performer, and the exposure is really good for your career.” Elena paused. “But…”
“Yes?”
“Okay, there’s this one guy at Bound.com you should be a little wary of, he can be pretty weird.”
“Oh?”
“Ethan Cooper. One of their cameramen.” Elena speared a piece of chicken. “The guy is… weird. I’ve heard from other performers that he’s made them uncomfortable. I’m not trying to talk you out of it, I’ve never had any problems with him, but I do find him a little creepy.”
Chloe nodded and committed the name to memory. “Good to know.”
“You know what?” Elena put down her fork. “You said at the party that Samantha Sparkles was one of your favorite performers, right?”
Shit.
“Yeah?” Chloe kept her voice neutral.
“Samantha had real problems with Ethan.” Elena shook her head. “The guy stalked her. Harassed her outside of work, followed her around, sent her messages and stuff. Samantha had to file an official complaint with Bound.com before he left her alone.”
Chloe’s heart was pounding, but she forced herself to stay calm. “That’s awful.”
“Several performers had problems with him because he contacted them outside of work.” Elena took a big sip of her iced tea. “I don’t know why they don’t just fire him. Okay, he’s a damn good cameraman, but still.”
“Oh, okay. Then I’ll try to avoid him,” Chloe said. “Thanks for the warning.”
I’ve never heard about that before.
“Do that.” Elena poked the last bit of salad on her fork. “But don’t let that scare you off. Most people at Bound.com are really okay.”
The conversation then drifted into shallower waters. Elena told war stories from her time in the industry, and she definitely knew how to tell a story. She recounted a shoot where the male performer had gotten a cramp in the middle of it – “He was lying on top of me like a beached whale, screaming, ‘My leg! My leg!'” – about a director at Dirty Dreams who insisted that all the performers had to let out a “war cry” together before each take – “‘You have to feel the Force!’ he always says, that guy’s a real nutcase!” – and the one time when a cat just came onto the set, sat down next to them, and watched them until everyone was laughing so hard they couldn’t continue filming.
Chloe laughed too, her first real laugh in weeks, and suddenly everything felt almost normal. Just two women having lunch and gossiping about their jobs. The fact that this job happened to be shooting porn was actually irrelevant.
Time passed faster than expected. The sun moved on, casting new shadows through the large windows. The lunch rush subsided and the bistro became quieter.
When the bill arrived, Elena grabbed it before Chloe could even protest. “I owe you this. For yesterday.”
“You don’t have to-“
“Yeeees, I have to.” Elena’s tone brooked no argument, and she handed the waiter her credit card. “You saved my ass yesterday. This is the least I can do. Besides, you just got here, so you probably don’t have that much money yet.”
They got up and went outside.
“I really enjoyed myself, we should do this again soon,” Elena said, sounding sincere. “And if you need anything, call me. Seriously.”
“Definitely, it was really nice!”
They hugged again, this time longer, warmer. Then Elena turned left toward her apartment, and Chloe turned right toward the bus stop.
Chloe’s thoughts were racing. Ethan Cooper. A new name on her list. A stalker. Someone who had harassed Samantha.
She needed more information about Ethan Cooper. And she knew exactly how she was going to get it.
I do like how any warning about “this guy int he industry is bad news” is followed up with “time to go work with him.” She is optimizing for bad experiences, also the lunch talk was cute.
Haha, yeah, it is a bit like that at the moment.
If she really doesn’t want Steve to bother her she should just say so directly. Then block his phone number if he doesn’t stop. Not everyone has talent or experience reading social cues. Some are so bad that doctors invented the word autism to describe it. It’s ok to start with subtle refusals but until you give an unambiguous request to back off you can’t blame someone for not reading your mind.
You are right of course. Chloe isn’t perfect.