Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All names of characters are fictional and were made up. Please do not copy and plagiarize my work.
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Los Angeles, California
The sun glared across the metallic silver paint, blinding anyone who was standing directly behind the minivan. A shadow cast across the back as one man was checking to make sure the back was closed. The tail lights had been previously scrubbed clean earlier in the day to wash away a trip made on back roads. The van was a late 2000s Dodge model. The side doors were decorated with a company logo in a blue rectangle and red lettering stickers spelling out First Circle Massage. Inside was a folded-up table with various oils and other necessities contained within cardboard boxes. The van acted as a mobile business of sorts, dispatching for private appointments. After the pandemic, the business model had changed for what used to be a well-managed massage parlor.
Gone were the days of a large building and workforce centered in Downtown L.A. The pandemic had changed everything, forcing management to make cost-cutting decisions and moving to a smaller office. All appointments had to be scheduled online or over the phone, and a destination had to be booked. Most of the time, this required a traveling masseuse or masseur traveling to a home where they had to bring all of the gear necessary for a private session. This had become routine for a staff that consisted of only six masseurs compared to fourteen masseuses. This difference in staff had to do with the overwhelming number of male clients the business saw. After the pandemic, the company only hired two new masseurs after laying off most of the previous staff. For that alone, Henry Anderson had to consider himself to be fortunate.
The job itself was seen as nothing more than that. A way to earn a living and have a check every Friday. At twenty-five years old, Henry liked to think he had been in worse spots financially. Since moving out of his rural hometown, he spent his time hustling and finding ways to get by. One job after another would introduce him to new people. It was through a friend that he was recommended the masseur job, not that he truly desired it. The hours were better than the previous minimum wage jobs and did not require an education. That was fine for him since he had dropped out of high school before his senior year. Henry drifted from town to town until he finally found his place in Los Angeles. He had been settled since the pandemic, making use of a bad situation that had resulted him in a small fortune.
His only motivations in life centered around making money and chasing women. With a slim build and short brown hair to match his eyes, Henry felt he had the right looks for his later goal in life. He saw no need to plan for a family or any kind of future like that. Live fast and enjoy it while you can--that was his motto. Once this job dries up, he would be back on the streets drifting and hustling to a different part of town. That was not the case today, thankfully. Henry was a man in uniform, at least for the job. A white T-shirt with the company logo covered his slim chest, and he had the choice of wearing a pair of denim blue shorts to go with his black sneakers. All the gear he needed for the day was packed in the trunk of the van. He stepped to the driver's side door and pulled it open, ready to spend another day driving through the streets of Santa Monica.
Calabasas was home to multiple clients who called the company in the past month. Henry's last ride was down a fancy street of mansions and through the open gates leading to a large mansion. He was prepared to take a trip down that same road today since his next client lived close by the last one. The GPS tracking system supplied in the company van had become a reliable tool for venturing off on streets Henry was unfamiliar with. Before he took this job, he had spent most of his time drifting around Idlewood. Santa Monica was close to that area, but he had never wandered off into Calabasas. Upon shutting the door to the van, Henry let out a sigh while studying his reflection across the windshield. The appointment was scheduled for 1 PM, an hour away. He had time to kill and was not in any hurry to start driving to his destination.
His client for the day was a woman of fame, or so Henry had been told. The name Sydney Sweeney did not ring any bells for him. If she was some kind of celebrity, he had no idea from where. Henry rarely ever kept up with Hollywood news. The gossip rags he always seen on display at gas stations were not his type of magazines. Browsing the internet and looking at models were not his cup of tea either. In his youth, Henry had consumed much entertainment through television, but he felt out of touch with the current generation of famous faces. Henry would not know the status of fame for some random woman if their name didn't end with Kardashian or some other name. As he sat in the minivan, he cranked it up to get the air conditioner running. Upon shifting gears, his cellphone began to ring. It was sitting in the front passenger seat until Henry reached across to fetch it. He swiped the screen to answer it without reading the caller's name.
"Hello?"
"Hey! You out on the road now?"
The deep voice on the other end of the phone was Barry's. He was another masseur from work, roughly around the same age as Henry.
"Yeah, I'm leaving now. Why are you calling? You wanna bug me a little before I go to work?"
Barry laughed. As coworkers, they liked a bit of playful banter to tease each other. On this particular job, however, Henry was under the belief that Barry might have been jealous.
"If I wanna bother you, you'd know! I'd blow your phone up like I did last time."
"Right..."
Another chuckle was heard through the phone before Barry went quiet for a moment. Henry did not like to drive while talking on the phone. It aggravated him to no end to see reckless drivers distracted by their phones. He sat there, not ready to venture out into the streets, as the minivan was still running.
"We just got a call from Miss. Sweeney. She's waiting on you."
"She wants me to come early?"
"Yeah. You know, you're lucky that she wants you for some reason. Had I picked up the phone, I would've offered to make the trip for you."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."
Barry laughed before he continued.
"I told you yesterday, man. You should look up those scenes from Euphoria. Maybe then you might appreciate the fact she wants a massage from you."
Rolling his eyes, Henry decided to cut this conversation short by going back to the main subject.
"Is she expecting me now? You said she was waiting on me."
"Yeah! I'm calling to nag you to get your ass over there and don't keep her sexy ass waiting!"
"Alright dude, I'll catch you later."
Pulling the phone away from the side of his face, Henry swiped his fingers across it to hang up. He let out a sigh of relief after tossing it back into the empty passenger seat. His hand found the gear shift, and now it was time to finally move his minivan out onto the street. All phone calls from clients went through the office; otherwise, he imagined this girl would have called him personally. Once he was navigating the streets, Henry let out a sigh of relief. He had yet to be face-to-face with Sydney to know what she looked like, regardless of the description Barry had given him. It would have been easy to browse the internet and learn more about her, but why spoil such a surprise? Maybe she would be a real stunner. Some time had passed since Henry last had some luck with a fine woman. Something had given him a good feeling for today's work.
The sunlight blinded down from the left corner of the windshield. The traffic was not so bad around now, so Henry saw a break to reach Calabasas faster. The van remained quiet as he fought the urge to turn on the radio and listen to the FM channels. Another driver had used this company van yesterday, and he hated having to mess with the buttons to find a decent classic rock station. The scenery changed from light poles on the streets to large trees offering shade through the passing miles. Henry was beginning to feel a sense of familiarity with the gated communities of Calabasas. Rows of mansions hidden behind stone brick walls and large black gates had given him a sense of walking into a different world. It was one thing to see images of this on television, but another to be there in person, driving past the many houses.
