Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you?..." ♫ Scooby Doo Theme Song by—whoever the fuck made Scooby Doo, I dunno.
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Harlow could act tough, mean and bitchy if he wanted to. He could be a hard-ass, hardcore metal musician and drink more alcohol than a man thrice his size. He could slam a pedophiles nose into a metal table and make him bleed out without the slightest hesitation.
And then, the next day—be a cuddle whore' in bed and wear pink boxers with matching socks while telling me old adventure stories about' his teenage years like an old man.
"Where'd you get this one?" I whispered, laid on the hotel queen with Harlow, our legs intertwined underneath a warm blanket while we listened to soft-rock on the radio. I was holding onto his hand, examining every tattoo he had and currently pointing to the ever so slightly faded skull and crossbones on his knuckle.
"That one was a stick and poke done here in New York by a fifty year old homeless man when I was about... eighteen? I gave him a lap dance in exchange for ink."
"No way."
"In the back of an alley." He mused with a quaint smile and nod.
"And you didn't get hepatitis? Ugh, you brave, brave boy."
"Hey, hey. Marco was a clean man. Nice too. He stuffed a joint in my stripper panties as a tip and I went on my way."
"I can't picture you doing those kinds of things, being a stripper, parading around town like a harlot..." I teased, "Let alone being so young on top of it. You're so old now." I ran my hand down from his neck to his chest, tracing all of the marks, moles and tattoos with my fingers.
"I was a sex worker. I've done a lot of things for money. It was either that or live on the streets Cher and," He huffed, tossing a hand up, "I don't know about you, but I'd rather suck a dick than sleep under a highway pass. Stripping and occasionally a little on the side was how I survived."
"My blowjob skills would get me like... five dollars." I smacked a hand over my mouth and tried not to laugh.
"Are you kidding? With that throat, I'd give you at least $8.50."
"I feel strangely honored. Thank you, blowjob queen."
"I get to be 'blowjob queen'?" He planted a hand to his heart and leaned back with his mouth agape in surprise, "Oh shit, I want that engraved on my fucking headstone underneath 'dirty manwhore'."
"In loving memory of Harlow Silver, loving father, kind husband, beloved blowjob queen, and dirty manwhore. Forever in our hearts."
"Awe, baby, stop, you're gonna make me blush. No one I've been with has ever planned headstones with me." He fanned his face and rolled his eyes back teasingly, falling back onto the pillow with a bitten lip.
