Two weeks later...
"Ladies and gentlemen, and now please welcome the winner of the annual Northwest Tech Mobility Award, Arcturon Dynamics!"
The loud music blasting through the entire hall made Carolyn flinch with her whole body. Her tits, which had been mistakenly labeled as D-cups in the file, while in reality being an H-cup, swayed heavily beneath the tight short red top with the logo of some electric car brand stretched across them. Her foot twisted slightly and she had to briefly drop her wide smile, which in that instant turned into a grimace of irritation. The exact same one she had already been criticized for by that slut Samantha Brix, her coordinator at this exhibition.
"Jesus..." she quietly muttered, straightening up again and pressing her palms harder against her lower back, feeling how badly her spine ached from those damn heavy breasts, how her lower back hurt after already eight hours of standing beside the glowing electric car display and how badly, for fuck’s sake, she just wanted to go back to that dump that had been her home for the past two weeks and simply collapse onto the sagging mattress on her back, feeling those silicone monsters slap against her chin for a moment before spreading across her ribs like heavy hot flesh.
This damn exhibition had already been going on for ten days, and in those ten days Carolyn had managed to hate literally everything connected to the word “mobility”: electric cars, startup guys in turtlenecks, plastic badges, corporate smiles, the smell of cheap carpet, overheated spotlights, and men, especially men, who at best treated her like some dumb pretty blonde, and at worst like a whore whose ass could not only be “accidentally” squeezed by a wandering hand, but who could also casually, almost lazily, be offered a chance to “make some real money tonight”, as if that was just a natural extension of her job standing beside the booth.
'Just endure one more day, Charles. Tonight it’ll all be over,' Carolyn thought to herself, once again forcing that strained “brand smile” back onto her face, the kind that already made her cheeks ache.
She stood slightly to the side of the main stage, near the glowing Nexon Motors display. A white electric car slowly rotated on the platform beneath cold blue spotlights, and beside it stood her. Just another “pretty girl next to a car.”
Of course, nobody had forced her to work at this exhibition and put up with all this. But what choice did she have?
After Claire, having become Edward, left Charles in this body, Carolyn had only become more convinced that first of all she at least needed to simply “go home”, meaning Carolyn’s home. And even that turned out not to be so simple, the money barely covered a bus ticket “back” to Portland.
And how surprised she had been when she first arrived “home.” Because Carolyn Walker’s “home” turned out not to be the apartment of a young successful woman, the way Charles had somehow unconsciously imagined it back when he was still in his own body. No. It was a cramped, stuffy studio above a laundromat, slightly reeking of old grease and damp plaster, where the smell of detergent mixed with humidity replaced everything else.
And then the landlord came by, reminding her about the rent, and God, how humiliating it was explaining to that greasy bastard, who had spent the entire time staring only at her tits, that she had no money, that she would pay everything back in a couple of weeks, and then when that bald asshole said he didn’t care and wanted the money now, Carolyn for the first time truly realized just how helpless she was, and how naturally the thought of 'paying in kind' appeared in her head.
2
Back then she had barely managed to negotiate with the landlord, still promising that if she failed to pay everything back within a couple of weeks, she would do whatever he wanted, hoping that by then it would already be the real Carolyn’s problem, and that if Claire had been telling the truth, she would receive enough money from her to pay that slob properly.
"Hey! Dude! Take a picture of me with her!" a slightly drunk male voice rang out nearby.
Carolyn didn’t even realize at first that he was talking to her. She kept holding that strained smile, feeling her cheeks trembling from the forced, painful smile, until a chubby guy in a hoodie with a VISITOR badge appeared beside her and casually wrapped an arm around her waist as if he had every right to do it.
"Huh?.." she only breathed out, her whole body instantly tensing.
The man’s hand immediately slipped lower, almost onto her thigh.
"Think I found the hottest girl here," he chuckled to his friend, who was already lifting his phone.
Carolyn felt that old familiar male irritation from Charles instantly boiling up inside her. He wanted to shove the stranger’s hand away, say something harsh, push this idiot back. But instead the body only twitched awkwardly, while her heavy breasts swayed and jiggled heavily under the tight red top, forcing her to quickly press her arms against them to stop the embarrassing bounce.
"Mo... move your hand," she quietly said with a smile while looking at the fat guy.
"Well?! You taking the picture or not?!" the fat bastard barked at his friend without even acknowledging her words, squeezing Carolyn’s waist tighter, his hand finally sliding lower like it belonged there, grabbing not just her thigh anymore but the soft round curve of her ass beneath the short black skirt.
Carolyn jerked her hips, trying to pull away, but the movement only pressed the soft flesh of her ass deeper into the fat guy’s palm, and instead of removing his hand he only tightened his fingers more. She was already about to snap at him when her eyes caught Samantha standing a short distance away, carefully watching everything happening.
'Shit...' she thought, taking a deep breath through her wide smile while glancing toward Samantha so she would notice, giving a slight nod that meant, 'It’s okay boss, I’m not going to cause problems like I did during the first days, so please don’t throw me out onto the street without paying me.'
"Ooooh, now that’s a picture," the fat guy’s friend laughed while taking more photos. "Damn dude, your hand seriously looks like it’s right up her ass."
"That’s because she’s got a fucking great ass," the guy answered completely casually, not even lowering his voice.
Carolyn felt her face burning beneath the layer of makeup. And not even from embarrassment. From humiliation. From how easily, naturally, lazily they were discussing her right in front of her. Like furniture beside the display booth. Like part of the car.
The fat guy finally removed his hand and stepped closer to his friend, starting to look through the pictures on the phone, while Carolyn immediately used the moment to take a few quick steps backward, almost instantly feeling her heavy breasts painfully sway beneath the tight red top from the sudden movement, while her heel slipped unpleasantly against the smooth floor of the exhibition hall.
She barely managed to keep her balance, automatically grabbing the edge of the glowing Nexon Motors stand with her palm.
'Damn you, Claire... You have no idea what these two weeks have cost me...' she cursed mentally, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Carolyn!"
Samantha’s sharp voice almost instantly made her open her eyes again and force the smile back onto her face.
3
Samantha Brix was already approaching her with quick steps.
"Why are you standing there like you’re at a funeral?" Samantha immediately said after reaching her, speaking through a professional smile while barely moving her lips. "I can see you from across the entire hall. You look annoyed."
"Some fat asshole was just groping me," Carolyn quietly replied, continuing to smile at the passing visitors.
Samantha didn’t even glance toward the fat guys.
"And?.."
Carolyn blinked.
"What do you mean, ‘and’?"
"That’s your job. Don’t like it, then leave."
The irritation instantly made Charles want to spit right into that perfectly stretched corporate face.
He wanted to snap:
‘Do you even hear yourself?! You’re a woman too, what the fuck?! We’re not prostitutes!’
But instead Carolyn only let out a sharp breath through her nose, feeling her jaw starting to twitch from anger while the heavy earrings swayed beside her neck.
"Got it," she answered through the smile.
Samantha gave her a quick look from head to toe. Not like a person. Like a problematic employee.
"Good girl," Samantha replied, then continued more quietly while adjusting the tablet tucked beneath her arm, "Some guy was asking about you. Looks like he really liked you."
Carolyn immediately felt something tighten unpleasantly inside her.
"I don’t care," she answered quickly, forgetting the smile for a moment before forcing it back a second later.
Samantha gave a short smirk.
"Oh no, sweetheart. You do care. Because this is a very rich ‘guy.’"
"Could be Bill Gates himself, why the hell should I care?"
Samantha only rolled her eyes.
"Jesus Christ, Walker, it’s like you became a completely different person these last two weeks. I don’t know what happened to you. But stop acting like some nun already."
Her gaze drifted down to Carolyn’s cleavage, lingering on the tight red top that was practically digging into the heavy curves of her breasts, and she tilted her head slightly to the side.
"If he wants to invite you somewhere tonight," Samantha calmly said, "then be nice enough to do everything he says, or..."
"Samantha!" Carolyn blurted out sharper than she intended.
One second.
Two.
Soft music, noise of voices. Samantha didn’t even flinch.
"Or," she continued, now louder and with a more serious tone, "you can say goodbye to modeling work. And I mean all studios. Trust me, I’ll make sure of it. And for this exhibition, I’ll deduct the money in honor of your ‘debt.’ Understood?"
With those words, without even waiting for an answer, she suddenly rushed forward as if she had spotted something important, disappearing into the stream of people between the booths like she had never even been there.
Carolyn remained standing beside the Nexon Motors display, still wearing that frozen expression they called a “professional smile” here. A few visitors, another group of guys, approached for a photo. She automatically smiled again and stepped closer.
The guy actually seemed pretty nice. He stood there modestly with his hands lowered, even trembling slightly. But Carolyn, even though she noticed it, was thinking about something completely different.
She was thinking that if Claire, or rather Edward, did not show up tonight, then somehow she would have to keep living as Carolyn, at least for a while, and for that she needed money. Money and a place to live, a place she would have to “pay for in kind” if everything went wrong. The thought alone started making her dizzy, turning the noise of voices and exhibition music into some insane carousel, while she realized that right now she completely depended on Claire’s mood.