Chapter 33 – Public Recognition

Chloe opened her eyes and squinted against the brightness. Almost noon, she realized when her gaze fell on her cell phone.

She sat up slowly, her head felt as heavy as lead. Memories of last night seeped back.

Chloe Thompson is Chloe Heart.

No yoga today. She swung her legs out of bed and staggered into the kitchen to make coffee. Her hands moved on their own while her head was still foggy.

The first hot sip burned pleasantly bitter down her throat. She leaned against the countertop and waited for the caffeine to sweep away the cobwebs in her brain. What now? She needed a plan.

Ben’s message from last night came back to her. He had said she should call him. That she needed to be more active on her accounts.

Right. That was part of it too.

She grabbed her phone, coffee cup in the other hand, and dialed his number.

“Sunshine!” Ben’s voice dripped with fake enthusiasm. “How was the shoot with Randy yesterday? Did he behave himself?”

“Amazing,” she lied automatically. “Randy was… Randy.”

Ben laughed throatily. “I get it. At least he doesn’t mess around when it comes to paying. So, you got my message yesterday?”

“Yes, that’s why I’m calling.” She took another sip of coffee. “I saw the follower explosion and I’m a little overwhelmed. Over fourteen thousand on Instapic!”

“And it’s growing every day! Maven is doing a fantastic job, but you need to get more involved. People want to see the real, authentic Chloe Heart, not just promotional posts.”

“I see.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something else. Can we meet up? Not today, but tomorrow?”

A suspicious pause. “About what exactly?”

“My career. I want to know what the long-term plan is and not just think from scene to scene.”

Ben’s tone changed, becoming more interested. “You want to talk about your career? Like… real career planning?”

“Yes. I… I want to be successful, and I want it to be sustainable. I have to plan for the future.”

“Sunshine, that’s music to my ears!” She could hear his broad grin. “Most of my girls don’t think beyond their next paycheck. Nice to see one using her brain. I knew right away that you were special!”

Charming as always.

“Tomorrow at noon in my office?”

“Sure thing.”

“We’re going to make you a real star, Sunshine.”

After they said goodbye, she stared at the display for a moment. There it was again. She had an appointment to talk about her career. Not as a cover, not as a temporary thing. As her actual career.

She took a deep breath.

She needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood this world, who knew how she was feeling and could perhaps give her some advice.

She dialed Elena’s number.

“Chloe!” Elena’s voice was warm and friendly. “What a lovely surprise!”

“Hey, Elena. Can we meet up? I… I could use some advice.”

“Is everything okay?” There was concern in Elena’s voice.

“Yes, I… I’m just processing a few things. I could use some support.”

Elena didn’t press for details. “Sure. When and where?”

“If it’s not too short notice, today? Bistro La Plaza?”

“I’m always up for La Plaza.”

“In an hour?”

“Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.” Elena’s tone was casual but attentive, as if she sensed that this was important. “See you soon.”

She had just called Elena Rodriguez, as a colleague, for professional advice. Because they were both porn actresses.

This briefly threw her off balance again, this still unfamiliar but simple fact. The sky was blue, water was wet, and Chloe Thompson was a porn actress.

She shook off the thought. She only had an hour to get to Bistro La Plaza.

The shower was short and cold, the water washing away the last remnants of the night. She quickly pulled on a pair of denim shorts, a simple top, and applied minimal makeup.

Then she set off.

The bus stop was only two blocks away, but the short walk felt like an eternity. The sun burned on her neck. She wished she had a hat or something. Maybe it was time to go shopping again soon.

There were already a few people at the bus stop. An ancient Asian man with four plastic bags from the Korean market, a guy her age with huge headphones and a businessman in a wrinkled suit who was typing on his cell phone while staring at a second one.

The guy with the headphones looked over at her. Just briefly, a glance, then away again.

Was that…?

No. He was just looking around. People did that. They looked at other people. That was normal.

The bus screeched to a halt, the doors hissed open. She got on, paid, found a seat in the middle.

A man sat diagonally across from her. Mid-forties maybe, polo shirt, khakis, could be an insurance salesman. Or a math teacher. Or someone who had watched her Bound.com scene last night.

Their eyes met briefly. She quickly looked away, out the window. But she could still feel his gaze. Or was she imagining it?

Three hundred and forty-five thousand views. How many of them live in Valley City?

With two million residents… but not all of them watched porn… but some did… the probability was…

Stop it.

She forced herself to breathe normally. The guy across from her was now reading the newspaper.

But there was still the teenager a few rows back, wearing a Baseball cap and scratching his beard, which was more wishful thinking than reality yet. He was definitely staring. No doubt about it.

The second time she looked, he didn’t look away. The third time, he grinned slightly.

Shit.

Did he know her? Had he jerked off to her? Or was he just a creepy guy who stared at women on the bus? Both were equally disgusting, but for different reasons.

Her skin tingled. She was suddenly aware of every movement. How she sat. How her shorts rode up. How her T-shirt clung to her body. Were the shorts too short? No, normal length. But it didn’t matter. Everyone could see everything of her anyway. Just one click away.

You’re paranoid. These are just normal people on a normal bus.

The bus stop finally arrived. She quickly got up and pushed her way to the door. The teenager looked after her, but she did her best to ignore him.

The heat hit her again. Hot, but at least she was no longer trapped in that cramped space full of eyes. She took a deep breath.

The Bistro La Plaza was only three blocks away, and as she walked, she calmed down again.

Nothing has happened yet. No one has approached me directly.

But it would happen. Sooner or later. Last night’s numbers had made that clear. It wasn’t a question of if, only when.

There was La Plaza. Through the glass, she could already see Elena sitting at her table.

Almost there.

Chloe pushed open the glass door of Bistro La Plaza and casually scanned the room. In the back corner, half-hidden behind a huge Ficus tree, she saw a woman she knew. Platinum blonde, mid-forties, and boobs defying gravity. Kimberley Weinberg, wife of Kevin Weinberg, producer of Erotica Kings, was sitting there as the plastic surgeon made her. They had met at the industry party Ben had dragged her to, but Kimberley didn’t look up. She probably wouldn’t recognize her anyway.

Elena was sitting at the same window table as last time. She waved, and a warm smile lit up her face.

Chloe made her way through the tightly spaced tables. A guy in a suit had to pull his chair in so she could get past. He gave her an annoyed look, then a second, more interested one.

Elena stood up when Chloe reached the table and pulled her into a short but warm hug. She smelled faintly of cigarettes.

“Hey, girl,” Elena said, squinting at Chloe. “You look… stressed. Everything okay?”

Chloe tried to smile as she sat down. “Yeah, I… I just needed to talk to someone.”

The waitress was really quick to get to them.

“What can I get you, sweethearts?”

“Caesar salad and iced tea,” Elena said without looking at the menu.

“Same for me,” Chloe murmured.

The waitress nodded and disappeared again.

Elena leaned back and looked at Chloe intently. Her dark eyes were gentle but alert. “What’s wrong, Chloe? What happened?”

Her tone was concerned, not curious. Paradoxically, that made it somehow harder.

Chloe took a deep breath. What could she say? The whole truth was obviously not an option. But a little bit of truth…

“I checked my social media accounts last night,” she began, playing nervously with her fingers. “The numbers have exploded a bit. Fourteen thousand followers on Instapic and almost twelve thousand on Hitter. I only didn’t check for a week, max!”

Elena nodded slowly, as if she had expected something like that.

“I knew I was getting attention, but the extent… was a bit overwhelming.” Chloe swallowed. “I read the comments and got tons of DMs, and there’s a sub-threadit just about me. All these strangers discussing me and my scenes…”

Her voice trembled slightly. “It really hit me yesterday. I mean, I knew it was going to happen, but I didn’t really understand it. Yesterday, I got it.” She pressed her palms against the table as if she needed to hold on. “My old life is over. Everyone knows it now, or will know.”

The words tumbled out of her now. “On the bus on the way here, I didn’t even know if people were staring at me because they recognized me or just because I…” She made a vague gesture to her body. “You know. I can’t tell the difference anymore. I feel naked all the time.”

She paused, fighting back tears. “And what if this career thing doesn’t work out? What do I do then? Will I ever be able to get a normal job again? Who would hire me after… after everything?”

Elena had been listening the whole time without interrupting. Now she stood up silently, came around the table, and pulled Chloe up into a firm embrace.

Chloe froze for a moment, then just accepted the hug. Elena just held her, gently rubbing her back while Chloe breathed against her shoulder. After a long moment, Elena let go and returned to her seat. Her tone became practical, but she held Chloe’s hand.

“Okay, first thing is,” she said, raising her finger. “Stop reading those damn comments. It drives you crazy. Trust me, I made that mistake too. Still do sometimes.”

Chloe nodded weakly.

“As for the staring… people are probably just staring because you’re hot. That’s the reality of being an attractive woman out in public, and you know it.” Elena leaned forward. “But yes, at some point soon, they’ll recognize you, and some will probably hit on you. That’s inevitable with your level of exposure. But that’s not an immediate problem right now.”

The waitress returned with their drinks and then, a moment later, with their salads. The plates clattered slightly as she set them down. “Can I get you anything else?”

“We’re good, thanks,” Elena said with a smile.

When she was gone, Elena continued, “If you want or need to be anonymous, just dress down. Baggy clothes, oversized T-shirts. Hair in a messy bun or under a cap. No makeup, sunglasses, that kind of stuff.”

She speared a piece of salad. “I do it all the time. Works like a charm. No one recognizes sexy Elena in sweatpants and no makeup. It’s like an invisibility cloak.”

“What about my career?” Chloe asked quietly.

Elena chewed thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure your career will work out. Yes, Ben Ziegler is a disgusting guy, but he’s a good agent. He knows how to market performers and build careers. You can already see the results with you.”

She pointed her fork at Chloe. “Valeria Cruz is interested in you. That’s huge. Sooner or later, that means big productions, and those are a huge boost.” A small smile. “By the way, I’ve seen some of your stuff. The Bound.com scene was really good. No shit, you’ve got real talent. Plus, you’re easily hotter than 9 out of 10 girls who’ve made it big anyway.”

The casual way she said it somehow made it less weird that she had seen her videos.

“As for what comes after…” Elena became more serious. “I don’t have a perfect answer myself. I can’t imagine going back to civilian life. Not yet, anyway, but maybe never.” She grinned crookedly. “The money’s too good, and I enjoy being a big slut way too much.”

Chloe couldn’t help but laugh.

“But of course,” Elena continued, “you have to think about later. No one can do this job forever. No one wants us around when we’re fifty. Because in the end, we’re all disposable, even the most successful of us.”

She saw that Chloe still looked overwhelmed, and her expression brightened. “You know what? Let’s take some selfies. For social media. Cross-promotion and stuff.”

“I thought I came here to escape social media,” Chloe protested weakly.

“That’s exactly the point!” Elena pulled out her phone. “We control what people see and what story we want to tell them about ourselves.”

That actually made sense. Kind of. Chloe nodded.

They leaned together, Elena’s arm around Chloe’s shoulders. They took several shots, smiling, making faces, and laughing. It was fun, despite just being a performance.

Elena scrolled through the pictures. “This one’s good… and this one… oh, this one’s perfect.” She opened a filter app. “Sorry, but you look a little tired.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Hey, that’s what filters are for.” A few swipes later, they both looked like they had slept for ten hours and had a spa day. Elena quickly typed a caption and tagged Chloe, who immediately shared the post.

“By the way, we should definitely shoot a scene together sometime,” she said casually while still typing. “It would be fun. And it’s more enjoyable to work with someone you like.”

Chloe laughed nervously. “Maybe… someday.”

Elena shrugged. “Just an idea.”

They finished their salads, and the conversation drifted to lighter topics. Elena leaned forward, her eyes suddenly sparkling with indignation.

“Have I told you about my neighbor last time we were here? That son of a bitch upstairs, I swear he does it on purpose. Not only does he constantly stomp around like a fucking elephant, but two days ago he threw an entire mattress off his balcony! A MATTRESS! King size! I was sitting there reading a book when suddenly this monster thing flew past me. It got really dark for a second!”

She gestured wildly. “I jumped up and yelled every curse I know in Spanish and English, and the guy actually had the nerve to laugh at me!”

Chloe burst out laughing. The image of Elena standing on her balcony cursing in Spanish was too funny.

“It’s not funny!” Elena protested, but she was grinning too. “Imagine you’re chilling with your book and suddenly  –  BOOM  –  mattress!”

They were both laughing now, and Chloe also told a few hair-raising stories about what was going on in her apartment building and that she didn’t really want to know too much about her neighbors there.

Later on there was almost a fight over who would pay. Elena wanted to pay for both of them first and then suggested splitting the bill, but Chloe insisted that she would pay this time. After all, she had asked Elena over. At the door, Elena hugged her again.

“You can do this,” she said firmly. “You’re tough and talented and smart and hot. And if you need to talk, call me.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said.

“See you soon!”

On the way to the bus stop, she took a deep breath. She was still uncertain about the future, of course. But she could see a way forward, and she didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

I can do this.

~

The bus ride back wasn’t so bad. The guy with the mustache in the third row did stare twice as long as he should have, but he probably just liked blonde women. Normal. Everything was normal.

Soon after Chloe locked the apartment door behind her. With her laptop under her arm, she flopped down on the bed, and the mattress sang its usual protest song.

She opened a new document. The cursor blinked expectantly on the empty page.

Career.docx

“Career”. Not “Mission” or “Undercover Investigation.” “Career”. The investigation was still her main goal. But now there was also something else she needed to take care of. It was that simple.

She typed.

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Current situation: ~14k followers on Instapic, ~12k on Hitter, sub-threadit with ~1k members, and videos with a total of 1M+ views. Interest from Valeria Cruz (Dirty Dreams), Madeline Stokes (Sinful Stepsisters), Victor Ross (Anal Adventures), and Bound.com also wants to shoot with me again. Ben Ziegler gets a 20% commission (maybe I can renegotiate that later, I’ve read that’s the maximum amount allowed). He’s a difficult guy, but well connected.

Those were the bare figures and the starting point.

Okay. Now what?

She thought about it. What came after “Finding Samantha’s Killer”? What came when she was thirty? Forty? She couldn’t be Chloe Heart forever. No one could. The industry chewed up its stars and spat them out when they got too old, too “used”, too “worn out”, whatever.

She opened a new tab and started researching. Jenny Jackson had been in the business for almost fifteen years, then directed a few times, founded a rather unsuccessful production company and dissolved it again, and after that joined Gentleman Magazine, where she finally found success. Sarah Licious had been shooting porn for a total of eighteen years in her career and was still shooting it, but as a director now. Even for expensive brands like Dirty Dreams Platinum.

Real lasting success stories were rare. Most simply disappeared, becoming ghosts of their former fame. Some reappeared years later in documentaries, broken and bitter. But there were others. There was one, Aurelia Dawn, who had founded a lingerie line and made a million dollars in sales in its first year.

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Possible revenue streams: merchandise, probably. What can I sell? What would work for me? Signed photos? A calendar? Used underwear (fuck, how low have I sunk)?

Exclusive content on my own website looks interesting, some performers have that. With a monthly subscription, you get behind-the-scenes videos and “more personal” videos and stuff like that.

Brand partnerships: condoms, lube (I’ve seen this with several people), sex toys (if I can get the right deal, maybe I can get Ben to ask around? Or am I still too new for something like that? probably), lingerie (probably needs a larger number of followers), fetish wear (not really my thing, but probably lucrative, so maybe), conventions? Cam shows (that sounds time-consuming, I don’t know)? Custom videos (apparently some people pay $1000+ for personalized clips, but I don’t know how big you have to be to get the first offers)

She leaned back and rubbed her face. This was her reality now.

Mom would be so proud.

The bitter thought came uninvited and she pushed it aside. Her mother was dead. Samantha was dead. Only she was left, in this goddamn shabby apartment, and she had to figure out how to cope. She continued writing.

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Questions for Ben: who are the top earners and what do they do differently from others? Which brand deals are realistic at my level? Is merchandise (already) worthwhile for me and how does it work logistically? My own website, who, where, how and how much does it bring in? Should I hire a tax advisor?

And Elena was right she had to control the image of herself that was created. She couldn’t just rely on Maven’s effective but sterile promo posts for that. The fans wanted to see the “real” Chloe Heart. Whatever that meant. So she had to give them something to satisfy that desire.

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Social media: daily posts (at least one), behind-the-scenes content (preparation for shoots, gym, yoga), “personal” insights (food, movies, music, but nothing really private), interaction with fans (responding to selected comments, but not rewarding creeps with attention) Cross-promotion with performers I shoot with or people I know/meet, such as Elena, never showing where I live or taking too many photos in the direct neighborhood.

She would give them an “authentic” version of Chloe Heart, or at least authentic enough to keep them interested. She continued typing.

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Financial stuff: I need to save what I can (at least 70%!), learn a little about stocks and safe investing, I don’t need high returns or anything risky. Safe = good. No expensive purchases! So I definitely need a backup plan (is there such a thing as an online community college?). Should I maybe buy real estate as an investment? (Maybe don’t think too far ahead), I have to approach this like a professional athlete, a football player or something. The time I can earn a lot in this industry is biologically limited, not to mention that I don’t want to spend twenty years getting fucked in every h want to do this for the next twenty years.

The thought of spreading her legs for guys like Randy Miles for twenty years made her shudder. But then a completely different type of shudder ran through her body as she thought of Bound.com. How Buck had-

No.

She shook her head. This was about the mission and making the best of the situation she was in now, not about… whatever that thought had been.

Although, a quiet voice whispered in the back of her mind, if you have to do it anyway…

She shook her head and scrolled through the document. Two pages of planning and acceptance of her new reality. Tomorrow she would sit across from Ben, ask those questions, and he would probably grin from ear to ear. Happy that his little gold mine was starting to understand how the game worked and would help him maximize his profits.

Chloe closed her laptop and sat in the darkness for a moment.

This is my life now.

No more self-pity. All that remained was the truth of her situation. She had made decisions, and those decisions had consequences, and she had to live with them. And she would. Forward was the only direction.

Tomorrow she would meet Ben and make the best of this shit.