Aaron
In the darkness of his room, Aaron’s face was illuminated by the blue light of his phone, the spinning circle loaded the site painfully slowly. He cursed his landlord for installing the cheapest Wi-Fi plan available. Eventually, after a few seconds, the site materialized and the screen filled. A sleek, dark homepage with silver accents, and the same twisted serpent-like design that was on the little black card. Aaron’s brow furrowed.
Welcome to The Parlour
Private Introductions. Discreet Arrangements. Exceptional Companionship.
[For Clients] [For Talent]
He laughed out loud. Of course, he thought to himself. Escorting. Of course that’s what it was. It was all right there in front of him in black and silver, like some kind of joke he had been too stupid to catch on to. He leaned back in his bed and ran a hand through his curls, still laughing under his breath. “Jesus,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Of course.”
The last word made him feel queasy. Companionship. Still, everything about the site seemed so professional, so… easy. He exhaled another short laugh, half disbelief, half nerves, and closed the tab before he could think about it too long. His heart was still beating so fast, not from excitement but embarrassment, shame. He felt like he was doing something illegal. He reached for the card still in his bedsheets and held it between his fingers, the silvery embossed snake logo glinting faintly in the dim light. “Yeah, no way,” he told himself as he stretched over and dropped it into the trashcan by his bed. Yet, his words sounded thin even to his own ears.
He sat there for a little while longer, in the silence and stillness of the night, hands pressed against the edge of his bed, squeezing the mattress. He tried not to think about the website, or the card, or the man with the goatee, or the promises behind it all. Finally, he groaned and fell back into bed. Only then, as he lay in bed staring up into the darkness of his ceiling, did he realize the sharp pang of the emptiness he felt inside of him — and how badly he wanted something, anything, to fill it.
The next morning, Aaron woke up to the sound of his roommates voices before his alarm. He groaned and checked the time. 7:39. He crawled out of bed and slipped on his hoodie, not even bothering to put pants on over his boxers. Upstairs, their small kitchen was already crowded and chaotic. “Morning,” said Rishi, already dressed and scrambling eggs in a pan. Dylan nodded from the island over a bowl of instant oatmeal.
“You guys have fun last night,” Aaron asked, smiling. “Big Thursday night rager?”
Dylan whined. “Don’t talk to me about last night.”
“Uh-oh,” said Aaron as he poured himself some coffee. Rishi shot him a knowing look.
Dylan poked at his oatmeal. “Kenzie Hill,” he began, unprovoked. “The girl whose nudes leaked last year…” Aaron screwed up his face in confusion. “The one with the really fucked up pussy…. Remember? It looked like a pack of deli meat that exploded….” He tried to recreate the image with his hands.
“Oh…” said Aaron, trying to stifle a laugh.
“Yeah,” continued Dylan. “Anyways… I threw up on her tits.”
Aaron choked on his coffee. Rishi laughed openly.
“What,” Aaron stammered. “Literally how? How does that happen to someone?”
Dylan finally gave up and pushed his oatmeal away. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I was just a little nervous. I mean, no one knew for sure if those pictures were real, right? I started getting kind of stressed about it when we were making out. I tried to block it out, but it just kept coming back to me in my head.” He sounded truly distraught. “And then….”
Aaron sat down at the table, taking another sip of his coffee, fully engrossed. “And then what? Did it actually look like that?”
Dylan shrugged. “I don’t know. We didn’t get that far.”
Rishi sat down next to Aaron, his plate full of steaming scrambled eggs. “You really are God’s strongest soldier,” he said with a salute. Dylan flipped him off. “So,” said Rishi, shovelling his breakfast into his mouth, “how was your night?”
Aaron laughed. “Well, a little less interesting than yours,” he nodded to Dylan. “Yeah, it was alright though.”
“Was Megan working,” Dylan prodded. A wolfish grin flashed on his face.
“Yeah, we didn’t really talk. It was busy.”
“Any weird customers,” asked Rishi.
Aaron paused for longer than he meant to. “No. No more than normal, I guess.”
“Oh, right on,” said Dylan with a dry tone that told Aaron he didn’t quite believe it. Aaron noticed a brief flicker in Rishi’s face, like he was going to say something but changed his mind.
Aaron was quiet and didn’t say much else before they all split off for the day, scrolling on his phone as Dylan and Rishi went back and forth between arguing and joking. His first lecture of the day dragged. His mind wasn’t really there. Thermodynamics, calculus, psychology, and then his engineering lab. By the time five o’clock rolled around, he felt like he’d been running on autopilot for hours. He sat in his car in the student parking lot, trying to recall anything he’d learned but nothing came.
His shift at Peninsula’s that night felt like a Navy Seals training program. It seemed like every single guest had something against him and they’d all agreed to make his life absolute hell. Every other dish had to be taken back to the kitchens because it was “overcooked” or “undercooked”, “too salty” or “flavourless”. He had to comp a meal after a fat old lady screamed at Aaron for accidentally putting in her order incorrectly. He had forgotten that she wanted her pasta sauce on the side. Aaron cried that night for the first time in a very long time.
The weekend and the next couple of days all seemed to blend together. His life was purely swim practice, school, and work, and he had no time, money, or energy for anything else. But he was a hard-worker, if not stubborn, and he put his blinders on and muscled through. All he had to do was hold out for the next half-day at school, the next paycheck. One night, at his gas station job, his manager stepped out of the back office fingering through a stack of receipts, her brow furrowed. It was late and painfully slow, and Aaron was half asleep behind the counter, but he straightened up.
“Hey, Denise,” Aaron said, “did you put out next week’s schedule by any chance?”
She set down the receipts on the counter, thinking carefully before she exhaled through her nose. “Head office is screwing us again. I had to cut a few hours.”
Aaron’s stomach sank. “Okay… how many?”
“I can only give you two shifts a week for now.”
He tried to keep his face neutral. “That’s all good. I’ll make it work.”
She gave him a long look. “You always say that.”
Aaron laughed under his breath. “Yeah.”
“You’re one of the good ones, hon.” She hesitated, then softened. “I’ll call you first if anything opens up. If anyone gets sick.”
She got back to sorting through her receipts and Aaron nodded, forcing a smile. He helped ring through the few customers in the store. On his break, he sat outside behind the gas station. The cool air and the distant rush of passing cars on the freeway stilled his racing mind. He rubbed his temples, as if he could massage his stresses out of his head. It didn’t help much. Then his phone vibrated.
Geico Auto Your automatic payment of $118.47 has been processed.
“Fuck,” he muttered aloud. “Not now.”
He hesitated before opening it. The notification was short, clinical. He did the math in his head, quick and panicked. That meant overdraft. He swiped open his banking app, more out of punishment than purpose. All the numbers piled up on the screen, clean and bright, like they were proud of themselves.
CHASE ALERT: YOUR ACCOUNT BALANCE IS BELOW $0.00
OVERDRAFT FEE OF $34 WILL BE CHARGED IF DEPOSIT ISN’T MADE BY 11:59 PM PST
Checking
Current balance: –$86.12
Savings
Current balance: $43.71
“No, no, no…” He leaned back against the cool brick wall, staring at his phone screen. He blinked away the heat of the tears welling in his eyes. He couldn’t even dip into his student loans because he already sent the last of it to his mom and he knew she wouldn’t pay him back in time. The next disbursement wouldn't come for months. It felt like he was standing in front of the ocean with a cup.
—||—
The engineering lab was empty, just Aaron, the low hum of machines and the rhythmic tick of the wall clock. It was almost midnight and Aaron was slumped in front of a computer, his hoodie pulled up around his face. He tried to focus on the program’s simulation, but the code all blurred together. Nothing was running properly. The report was already overdue and he had been at it for hours now. Instead of finishing it earlier, he spent all afternoon running around, handing out resumes to places he knew would never call him back. His head felt like it was going to crack into two separate halves. He sat back in the chair and took a breath… inhale, exhale. He pulled out his phone.
11:42 PM
Dill weed: Hey rent is on friday
Dill weed: Don’t stay up too late u animal
11:43 PM
Dill weed: loll
He stared off at nothing in particular and allowed his thoughts to drift.
The wine.
The man with the goatee.
The black card.
Something grabbed hold of his chest. He’d thrown it out almost a week ago. But even now, he could still picture it perfectly — black, sleek, that embossed snake twisted into a knot.
No. He shook his head, forcing his focus back to the computer screen. The code stared back at him, unbothered and unhelpful. His phone vibrated. Another email, another notification from his bank. He didn’t even open it.
Instead, he found himself swiping through his phone’s browser history. He felt his breath in his throat. He had to hold his knee to stop his leg from bouncing under the table.
History
canvas.berkeley.edu/courses/2158/assignments/11842
bankofamerica.com/myaccount/overview
google.com/search?q=how+to+stop+overdraft+fees+bank+of+america
pornhub.com/video/search?search=riley+reid+squirt
google.com/search?q=sabrina+carpenter+boyfriend+2025
google.com/search?q=sabrina+carpenter+body
reddit.com/r/relationships/comments/vxt9hd/is_it_weird_to_hook_up_with_a_coworker/
theparlour.global
With a reluctant tap, he was back at the same dark homepage. The same word made his skin shiver. Companionship. He clicked on the “For Talent” button and his stomach turned. He thought about closing the tab….
An application form loaded across his screen. He scrolled through it slowly, trying to convince himself that this was all just morbid curiosity. He wasn’t sure what pushed him over the edge. The overdraft notice, the soon-to-be overdue rent, the late nights, his mother’s voice. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it.
He started typing.
THE PARLOUR
Confidential Applicant Submission Form
Full Name: Aaron Lee Matthews
Age: 19
Date of Birth: 05/23/06
City: San Francisco
Citizenship: United States
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Height: 5’9”
Weight: 145 lbs
Hair Color: Brown
Eye Color: Brown
Body Type: Toned
Tattoos / Piercings: No
Languages: English
Education: UC Berkeley — Mechanical Engineering Major, Chico High School
Occupation: Student, Server, Cashier
Experience in Hospitality / Client Services: Yes
Sexual Preference: Women
Comfort with Physical Contact: Yes
Smokes: No
Drinks Alcohol: Yes
Recreational Drug Use: Yes
Availability: Evenings / Weekends
Willing to Travel: Yes
Phone Number: 415-555-9803
Email Address: [email protected]
How did you hear about The Parlour?
Someone I met at the restaurant where I work gave me your card.
Briefly describe yourself. What makes you unique?
I’m a full time student and swimmer. I’m easy to talk to, hardworking, and good at reading people. I’ve been told I make people feel comfortable.
Why are you interested in joining The Parlour?
All information provided is strictly confidential and will be used solely for internal verification and screening purposes.
The last question made him pause. His thumbs hovered over the screen for a long time. He typed something out, deleted it, started again, then stopped. Finally, he just left it blank. Next, he had to upload three photos. He tapped a shirtless mirror selfie and his student ID photo. He kept looking through his photo library for a while and then glanced over his shoulder, suddenly feeling like he was being watched.
“Fuck,” he said, as he pulled down his hood and mussed up his hair, trying to make it look presentable. He snapped a selfie right there in the lab and uploaded it, completing his application. He submitted it before he could stop himself. He closed the tabs, shut off his phone and slipped it in his pocket, and got back to work, trying to decipher the code in front of him. As he worked into the early hours of the morning, he couldn’t shake the unease and shame that churned in his stomach. He felt like he had put in an order for something that he could never return, and the cost was his dignity.
The next morning, Aaron slept in until ten o’clock, taking full advantage of his first day off in two weeks. His roommates were out and he had the whole house to himself. He had already jacked off twice, each time with porn blaring from his laptop speakers. After a long, hot shower, he started to feel restless. He didn’t like not having anything to do. He didn’t like this kind of stillness. He decided to get a head start on some assignments. He sat down at his desk and cracked open his notes on thermodynamics. About three hours later, his head was hurting from the equations. He reread the same line three times over before he sighed and closed his laptop, pretending he’d made at least some progress.
He needed air. He thought about going for a run, but he grabbed his keys instead. The ocean was only twenty minutes away. When he reached Albany Beach, the air was sharp with salt and wind, biting at his skin. It was practically deserted, not unusual for this time of year. He waded out until the water reached his chest and then dove forward. The shock of the cold water hit him all at once when he dove in, forcing the air out of his lungs, but he didn’t care. It didn’t bother him. He’d swum through worse, and something about the sting made him feel alive. He let himself drift, eyes closed, waves pushing and pulling him like a heartbeat. For just a moment, there were no bills, no cut shifts, no tests, no messages from his mom. Just the ocean holding him and the sound of it roaring against itself.
Still, even in this peace that felt so easy, so freeing, thoughts of the man with the goatee came unbidden into his mind. His slow, knowing smile. He thought about that site and that little black card that seemed to be lodged in the folds of his brain. He shook his head, hoping that some of its contents could be shaken out too. He eventually told himself that it was just some pretentious, probably illegal thing that bored rich people did for fun. He had been completely exhausted last night, buzzed on caffeine and adrenaline and self-pity. He ran a hand through his wet hair, laughed once under his breath. “Yeah,” he said softly to no one. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
He watched the blue-grey waves roll over one another. He’d deleted his history and thrown away the card. He’d never even seen that strange man since Thursday night. Whatever that sick world was — it had nothing to do with him. Money would always come back. Everything was going to be fine. The water was cold but gentle, so unlike the harsh, chlorinated pool water he was used to. He swam slow laps along the shoreline, counting his strokes without thinking about them. Inhale, stroke, exhale, stroke. Half an hour had passed before his muscles began to ache in the good way that didn’t mean exhaustion, but peace.
When he finally came back to shore, the dark sand was cold under his feet and his shorts clung damp against his body. Goosebumps bristled across his arms. He sat down on his hoodie and stared at the horizon. The sky was pale and grey, like steel. The wind tugged at his hair. His phone lay face down next to him, faintly dusted with sand. He flipped it over and the screen lit up with a single notification.
5:23 PM 1 missed call
1 new voicemail
There was no name. Just an unknown number.
Aaron frowned. For a second, his stomach twisted with brief, irrational fear that something had happened to his mom, or Emily. He opened his messages. No texts. That’s weird, he thought, thumb hovering over the screen. It was probably spam or a wrong number. Still, something about it made his pulse quicken anyway. He stared at it for a long time before he dialed his voicemail.
“Hello, Aaron. My name is Lana. I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Bellamy regarding your inquiry. We don’t often reach out directly, but Mr. Bellamy is interested in arranging a private meeting with you. If you’re still curious about what we do, call me back when you have a moment and we’ll arrange a time that works for you. I think you’ll find it worth your while.”
The message replayed in his mind as he sat there, staring into the waves. His phone somehow felt heavier than it should’ve in his hand. Somewhere out there, in the water, the world continued to move and flow as if nothing had changed… but everything had changed.
