After, the hospital room felt smaller. Tighter. Like the walls were coming closer, trapping me in. Actively shaming me.
It had been a few hours already and I was afraid to look. Partly because what if no-one placed a bid. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? To have that fear?
Don't get me wrong, I was afraid that someone would place a bid but I was more afraid that I would open up that sucky website and I would see...zero.
I didn't want to look but the clock was running out on Liam and it was time to put on my big girl pant. I grabbed my laptop and opened it.
The screen glowed like an evil eye in the dim light.
SellTheVirgin.com - Your Auction Dashboard - Winona James.
My stomach turned just seeing it. My heart fell when I saw the number.
Oh god, the numbers. Dr. Armstrong's impossible figure, It was halfway there.
I kept watching it and it kept increasing. People were actively placing bids right in front of my eyes. Disgusting rich old men, were fighting each other to be the first one inside me... literally
Tiny little numbers kept changing. Jumping higher. $250,000... $275,000... $300,000...
It felt fake. Like Monopoly money. Except it was real.
They were real people at the other end of that laptop. Rich people. Elite people. Probably deranged people. Paying fortunes for... me or at least for my pussy.
Paying for one night with me. The thought made cold sweat pickle down my back. I felt dirty just sitting there and watching them.
Current Highest Bidder was User_Obsidian for- $312,500. And he was asking for a private chat with me.
I stared at the insta-chat pop up.
Who was he? Some old billionaire? Some bored prince? A monster? My fingers hover over the keyboard.
I wanted to scream into the void of the internet. Leave me alone! Except I needed this. Liam needed this. The money climbed higher. $325,000.
My phone buzzed again but not the auction site. TikTok.
I flinched.
My public life. My pretend life. I needed to post. If I stopped... people will ask questions. Questions I couldn't answer right now.
I forced myself to pick it up. Opened the app. Smile notifications. Comments on my last video – a silly dance trend in my tiny apartment, sunlight streaming in. People loved it.
"Queen!"
"Slay, Helene!"
"Your energy is everything!"
If only they knew.
My hands shook but I needed to film something. Anything. I needed my Normal.
I pushed the chair back quietly. Stood over Liam. Kissed his cold forehead. "Be right back," I whispered "Just... gotta work."
I slipped into the harshly lit hospital hallway. Found a quiet corner near a window overlooking the grey city. I lifted my phone. Forced my lips into this bright, wide smile I used for the camera. And I pressed record.
"Hey Sparks!" I chirped, using my pet name for followers. My voice sounded too loud, too happy. "Quick check-in! Life's been... wild lately."
I forced a laugh. It sounded fragile. "Working on some new music, super secret stuff! But mostly just vibing, you know? Missing you guys!"
I did a little shoulder shimmy, a move that usually gets thousands of likes. It felt stiff. Fake.
My heart wasn't in it. My heart was back in Room 314, breaking. My heart was screaming at the numbers climbing on my laptop screen.
"Anyway," I continued, the smile hurting my face. "Sending you all big love! Remember to be kind to yourselves today. You're amazing! Byeeee!" I blew a kiss at the camera. Ended the recording. Posted it immediately. Done.
My followers didn't know of Liam. Since most people that send gifts and money to us were males, Liam and I decided it was better he remained behind the curtain and I keep making a living. Playing band gig wasn't enough in Orleans City.
I slumped against the cold window, after. The bright, bubbly girl on the screen wasn't me. Not right now...not ever really.
Right now, I was just Helene. Scared. Desperate. Selling the most private part of myself to strangers with too much money.
I walked back to Room 314.
There was a new message from User_Obsidian.
I clicked on it and my mouth went dry.
To: Winona James
Subject: Your Auction - Proposal
Ms. James,
Your situation is... compelling. Your devotion, admirable. The current bid reflects the unique value placed on your offering. However, I propose an alternative to the open auction frenzy.
I am prepared to pay the amount required for your fiancé's surgery immediately. Full transfer within the hour.
In exchange, I require a private arrangement. A discreet meeting, just us. Tonight. I will handle all details – location, transportation, discretion is guaranteed. We bypass the website entirely. No public sale record.
Consider the benefits: speed, certainty, privacy. No further bidding stress. Your fiancé receives life-saving intervention without delay.
I await your prompt response. Time, as you know, is critical.
Cordially,
Obsidian
The words blurred. Tonight. He wanted it tonight.
He promised privacy. Discretion. It sounded clean. Easy. But it also felt... dark. Dangerous.
What does "private arrangement" really mean? Do I end up on a table to be passed around obsidian and the friends who pitched in to afford my price?
I looked at Liam. His chest rose and fell with the machine. Each breath felt precious. Each second, the damage Dr. Armstrong talked about got worse.
$340,000 flashes on the bidding wall. But it was not enough. It wasn't not guaranteed. And it could take days. Does Liam even have days?
User_Obsidan offered now.. Immediate money. Immediate help for Liam.
But the price... the price wasn't just money anymore. It's going somewhere unknown, with someone unknown, tonight.
My hand hovered over the keyboard.
Reply 'Yes'? Or let the auction run? It was the most difficult question. I turned to Liam.
"Lee. Liam. I don't know what to do?" He didn't answer. "Liam! I'm scared. I don't want to do this"
No answer. The machine just kept beeping. Loud. Relentless. Counting down.
Tic Tok. Tic Tok.