Helene Pov
*The Billionaire's Auction website.*
I stared at the website where desperate people sold despicable things to bored old rich men. Things ranging from used bra to fingernails clippings. To men who were clearly Chucky level of creep.
And then, I stared down on my hands. They wouldn't stop shaking. Not even pressing them flat against the cold sink helped.
The bathroom light flickered like it was actively judging me for even thinking about considering to sign up. It was too bright...too mean and it made my reflection in the mirror look pale and hollow-eyed.
I sat down on the closed toilet lid, the cheap plastic creaking. My laptop felt hot, dangerous as I balanced it on my knees.
My finger hovered over the keypad.
Biting my lip hard, I clicked on a subsection of the site. The section that had most reward money for the most wrong things.
SellTheVirgin.com.
The words burn in big, bold, stupidly elegant font. Like it was selling designer handbags, not… this. My stomach twisted into knots.
Just look. I told myself . Just see what it is. It's not like you will actually go through with it.
Famous last words. And I looked. At girls, some older than me...some my age, some barely twenty years old.
Some smiling like they were modeling shit not giving up their goddamn virginity!
Some looked scared....like fuck what have I gotten myself into level of scared.
And others? The others looked blank. Unreadable.
And there were prices listed beside them that made my head spin. Tens of thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Millions!.
Holy motherducking hairball! Gross! Supergross!
I slammed the laptop shut so hard the sound echoed in the tiny rest room.
The only sound within hearing distance was my laboured breathing.
Okay. Okay. Get it together, Helenie. Liam needs you.
I shoved the laptop into my bag like it was radioactive and push open the bathroom door.
The sterile hospital smell hits me instantly – it smelt like disinfectant and something faintly sweet, like decay hiding under bleach. It was the smell of waiting. Of dying.
My heels clicked too loudly as I hurried down the hall, past other closed doors holding other private tragedies. And then I stopped in front of a door.
Room 314.
My hand trembled on the handle. I took a deep breath, pasted on the smile I used for tikTok livestreams when I'm faking being okay, and pushed inside.
He was there. Liam. My Liam. But not my Liam. Do you understand?
He was so still. Machines were beeping and breathing for him, keeping his heart beating. Tubes came out of everywhere.
His skin was awful pale against the white pillow.
The vibrant, funny guy who proposed to me under the Brooklyn Bridge lights two years ago… was gone. Trapped somewhere inside this broken body.
I pull the plastic chair close, the legs scraping harshly on the floor. Forget my fake smile, It shattered as I reach out. My fingers, usually flying over guitar strings or tapping out TikTok dance moves for my 500k followers, touched his cheek and it shook a little.
I cradled his face, leaning in until my forehead rests gently against his temple. My tears dropped to the pillowcase. My mascara wasn't waterproof, It was the cheap ones I always used and it stained the sheet.
"Hey, Heart" I whispered, my voice overcomed with emotions. "It's me, Strings. I missed you today."
I lifted my left hand, brushing his hair back. The tiny diamond on my engagement ring caught the harsh overhead light, throwing tiny rainbows on the sterile sheets
"Hang on, okay? Just hang on. I'm here. I'm hanging on too. The rent's due...we officially ran out of money today and the bills keeps piling up. But I got good news, Storks records called me back... apparently, your girl is exactly the rising star you said I would be. They offered me a record deal. I don't sign until next week...but it's good news because, we need the money..."
We were interrupted.
The door opened and Dr. Armstrong walked in. He didn't need to say anything. The look on his face was enough, it was bad news. And so, I got ready. I taught myself how to be an unfeeling wall.
"Miss James," he started, his voice was low. The kind you used on spooked horses."We've reviewed Liam's scans again. Sort for opinion in the medical community from Zurich to Tokyo" He paused, adjusted his glasses. "Without the specialized neurosurgery Dr. Vance pioneered in Switzerland… the damage… its spreading ."
My heart didn't just stop...it vanished for a second.
"The operation," I choked out. "It can still save him?"
"It's the only thing that can give him a real chance now, Helenie," he said gently. "But time is critical. We need to fly Dr. Vance and his team here within the next 72 hours. The procedure itself, the specialized equipment, the aftercare…"
He named a figure. A number so vast, so impossible, it felt unreal. Like TV money or billionaire Web series kind of money...like fake money.
I almost shouted. 900,000 dollars!
The TikTok sponsorships, the gig money, the merch sales… it's pennies, my entire life wasn't even worth half of that amount...my entire family including my dead ancestors collectively wasn't worth half of that!
I shook my head, and I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying. It didn't work.
"That's… that's impossible. I… I don't have…we don't have insurance. I was paying for his treatment out of pocket, I can't...I am...we are struggling artistes"
Dr. Armstrong's expression was sympathetic but sympathy can only go so far.
"I understand the shock, Helenie. Truly. But without securing those funds immediately, to activate Dr. Vance and prep the OR…" He looked down at Liam, then back at me. "I'm so sorry. You need to prepare yourself. Spend this time with him. Say… say whatever you need to say. If the money can't be found… this might be goodbye."
He gave my shoulder a brief, awkward pat like I was his favorite aunt's favorite dog or something and left.
The silence after he left...I hated it. It was just the machines... Beep… whir… beep… whir.
I collapsed back into the chair.
I stared at Liam's peaceful, unaware face. I traced the line of his jaw with a trembling finger, down to where the tube enters his throat.
My beautiful, talented drummer. My future husband was going to die because I was poor.
A sound escaped me. It was half sob, half howl, choked back. I pressed my lips to his cold forehead.
"I love you," I breathed "More than anything. You know that, right? More than the music, more than the followers, more than… anything."
My gaze fell on my bag, slumped on the floor beside the chair. Inside it, the laptop. Inside the laptop… the website.
SellTheVirgin.com.
I looked at Liam. At the machines keeping him tethered to this world. At the ridiculous diamond on my finger, sparkling with useless promise.
"I have to do this, don't I?" I whispered, my voice suddenly clear, terrifyingly calm. "Even if it destroys me. I mean that's love, right? Loving someone to the point of destruction. Putting them first."
I grabbed his hand. "I'm scared, Lee. Wake up, please. I don't want to do this. Please"
But he didn't.
I let go of his hand. I bent down. My fingers closed around the strap of my bag.
I pulled out the laptop. Opened it. The screen glowed, illuminating my face in the dim room. And that cursed URL was still there.
SellTheVirgin.com.
My heart wasn't racing anymore.
Then, my fingers moved. They typed. Not frantically. Not nervously but with a horrible, deliberate calm.
Username: Winona James. (My middle name was all I could stomach using).
Password - I-died-in- room- 314
The auction form loaded, it was blank pages to fill. It contained a lot of things. Description. Starting Bid. Pictures.
Just for a second. I looked back at Liam. At the rise and fall of his chest, controlled by the machine. At the love of my life slipping away. And then I started typing.
Item: Virginity.
Seller: Winona James
Description: Fake blonde curls. Freckles, and green eyes. Slender. Tall.
Reason: Life-saving surgery for fiancé.
Bid: 900,000
I fumbled with my phone, open the front camera and took a picture of the engagement ring.
I uploaded it.
One last look at Liam. His face was peaceful. Oblivious.
My finger hovered over the trackpad. Over the button that says SUBMIT AUCTION.
I closed my eyes, took a breath.
And clicked.