Page 3 of White Noise

People hear what I do and assume being watched means giving strangers access to me, but it’s actually the opposite. I decide when I log on, what they see, what they pay for, and when they’re done getting any of it.

I like being watched.

I just like being the one in control of it.

My phone buzzes on the vanity.

STREAM STARTS IN 5 MINUTES

“Yeah, yeah.”

I pick up my vape and take a drag before moving to the desk. Tonight’s flavor is blueberry ice because I got sick of blackberry last week and apparently that’s enough excitement for one life.

The waiting room already has a hundred and twelve people in it.

“Jesus.”

I open tonight’s menu and run through it one more time.

VIOLETHEX—SATURDAY MENU

25 credits—Question answered

50—Pick an accessory

75—Feet / heels request

100—Outfit adjustment

150—Remote toy activation

250—Choose from the shelf

400—Custom tease

500—Name written on my thigh

700—Private priority

Exclusive one-on-one—30 credits/min

At the bottom, in bold:

No meetups. No personal info. No off-platform calls. No freebies because you said please.

Perfect.

The remote toy on the nightstand flashes green when I test the connection. Tip-controlled toys are one of the smartest things anyone ever invented for this job.

Men like pressing buttons.

They like the illusion that the reaction belongs to them.

It doesn’t have to be complicated to make money.

I scroll through the waiting room and recognize most of the usual names.

GraveyardVIP is already there. He owns a funeral home and likes being insulted while I wear black lace, which feels almost aggressively on-brand.