This is the second part the story of how I became what I am; my autobiography. It may help to read Holly's First Night first, and if you wish to make a comment please do.
Holly
*****
As we came out of the bathroom Zoe and I were wearing matching dressing gowns with the hotel logo on. There was a tray of sandwiches on the table, all traces of the coke were gone.
It was clear that our services were not going to be required again tonight as we made small talk, well Kwaze did most of the talking, we laughed politely at his jokes, made oohing sounds as he told us of his exploits on safari, and boasted of his father's power and influence in the government of his home country. At about four o'clock he stood, took Zoe's hand and led her to a bedroom, saying goodnight.
I looked at Jamal, he smiled and did the same, taking me to his room. The bed was bigger than king size, I watched him as he climbed between the sheets, suddenly feeling shy about undressing in front of him. He was a real gentleman, because he held the quilt open for me and switched the lights off. I shed the gown, then climbed into the bed beside him, laying my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.
The bed was empty when I awoke, the weak winter sunlight visible as a faint outline where the drapes were. I went into the bathroom to relieve the pressure in my bladder and then, putting on the robe I had left on the floor by the bed, went through to the main part of the suite. Zoe was there, dressed in a simple, but very flattering black roll neck top and pair of tight jeans with some Nike Air trainers. She looked up as she heard me enter the room.
"Hey Holl, sleep well?" she asked, putting the glass orange of juice she'd been drinking, down.
"Ungh," I stifled a yawn and nodded, "where are the guys?"
"Oh, they left an hour or so ago. Here, have some juice, or coffee." She gestured at the table, there was now a small tray covering the place where...we'd snorted coke last night.
I looked at her.
We'd had sex last night.
I'd had sex with a man and her at the same time last night.
She'd let two men fuck her in front of my eyes last night.
She'd ground herself against my face last night.
She'd made me cum more often than I'd thought possible last night.
We'd taken (a lot of) money from two strangers for sex last night.
I flopped onto the white sofa beside her, the sofa that had been the site of all that sex.
"Zoe, did we...?" Suddenly I was feeling unclean, dirty somehow.
She looked at me with those big black-brown eyes, but said nothing. I could feel tears starting to well up as my chest tightened. She reached out to hold my hand and I began to sob.
She gathered me to her, comforting me as the tears wracked my body.
How could I have been so stupid? This wasn't a one night stand, it was me prostituting myself, selling myself like a hooker. Would I end up on street corners, soiled, addicted to drugs and riddled with the clap?
I felt so ashamed of myself, and resentful of Zoe; after all, she'd gotten me into this mess.
"Look Holly, I think we should go home, don't you?" she suggested.
I nodded dumbly, sniffing back some snot before pulling away from her.
"How do you do it?" I asked her.
Shrugging her shoulders, she looked me in the eye,
"Do what?"
"Don't mess with me you bitch; last night, you, me, those two men!" My internal shame was turning into self-righteous anger. We'd done things together I'd never imagined, or rather, had only ever imagined.
"Have you any idea how much you earned last night?" she asked simply, adding "That's how I deal with it."
"Don't play with me." I snapped. She stared at me. "You, or...or someone thought you could turn me into a...a whore!"
"Shhh! Keep your voice down Holly." She leant close in to me and took both my hands in hers. I could see it in her eyes as she stared me down; an unfamiliar hardness to her that I had never witnessed before.
"How do you do it?" I asked, snatching my hands away and standing up.
"I tell myself it's a business transaction; one contract at a time. I have a goal, one I've nearly reached in just eighteen months, then I can stop. I'll have enough to buy a house, I won't have any debts, and I aim to have no regrets."
"A few days ago you accused me of thinking you were a prostitute, for fucks sake, you gave me a hard time over it," I waved at the tray, "you, you even said you didn't do fucking breakfast!"
I needed to get away from here, away from Zoe, to think. I left her sat there, as I left I heard her say something I knew was true.
"Nobody made you go and see Alexandra, did they? Nobody made you come and join me, did they? You came because you were curious to see if you could do it. And you did. Very enthusiastically didn't you?"
I stepped into the shower, needing to cleanse myself of the degrading sense of filth I could feel on my skin. As the water sprayed over me, I soaped myself, imagining it was washing away the shit of last night, purifying myself in a ritual.
As I dried off I thought about what I should wear and realised that all I had was last night's clothes: the slightly too small black dress, lacy matching lingerie and a flimsy bolero jacket.
Looking at myself in the mirror I realised I hadn't even brought out much more make-up than I could fit in my clutch bag. Zoe on the other hand, that oh so professional tart and former best friend, the deceitful cow, Zoe had clearly thought to bring a change of clothes, and even shoes, the bitch. No wonder I'd never caught her doing the walk of shame; the whore didn't have any.
I finished dressing, and with a confidence I didn't feel, walked back into the main room of the suite. I was about to ask Zoe to call me a taxi so I could go to my flat, to our flat. She stood, lithe and elegant as she always did, her African ancestry shining through every dignified movement, no wonder I'd thought of her as a queen last night.
"Holly, I know it's difficult, hun. Please can we start again?"
"I don't know Zo, everything's changed, it's all different, I'm different, we're different. Perhaps you should just call me a cab so I can go home."
"Okay, you're a cab." she said, with that oh so beautiful grin.
"That's not even funny Zoe." I think that hurt her because her smile was suddenly gone, extinguishing the humour in her eyes.
I wasn't sure I wanted to be alone with her, I wasn't too sure I wanted her telling me that I had chosen to whore myself out even if, technically, she was right.
"No, thanks, I don't want anything to eat." I was stood at the foot of the stairs when she came and took my hand again.
"Holly, this will work itself out, you just need a bit of time." I snatched my hand away and ran up the stairs to my room, flung the door open and threw myself on the bed as a temper tantrum surged through me. They were all a bunch of shits, every effing one of them, playing with peoples emotions and thoughts just to manipulate something way out in the future. Tears of anger were replaced by tears of self-pity as I thought through the recent days, trying to make some sense of my role and responsibility for everything that had happened.
'Nobody made you go and see Alexandra, did they? Nobody made you come and join me, did they? You came because you were curious.' Zoe's words chased their way through my head, every time I thought I could slap them down they just got right up again '...because you were curious.' because I wanted some of her glamour and poise and outright happiness.