The hotel room was quiet except for the ambient sound of the city filtering up through the window. It was the kind of quiet that sits in a room when two people are occupying it and one of them is very unhappy about being there.
’Thank god... he didn’t fuck at all, but still... my... ugh... stop! It’s over!’ Madison shook her head.
Madison Reed sat on the edge of the bed, her posture tense and rigid, a reflection of soone who had resolved that the only thing she could control in this situation was her body language. She was staring at Mike, frustration simring within her, as she replayed the limited options in her mind multiple tis since they had entered the room, arriving at the sa conclusion each ti.
"Ahhhh~! Fuck, that shit was good..."
Mike stretched his arms overhead and rolled his neck, then turned to her with the relaxed deanor of soone accustod to these kinds of situations, where emotions ran high but urgency was seldom necessary.
"You’re going to get lines if you keep looking at like that, you know?" he said.
She looked at him. "What?"
"Frowning like that." He crossed the room and sat down in the chair besides the window. "You’ve got a shoot tonight, right?"
"Wasn’t there sothing in the entertainnt calendar about a costics campaign or so shit?"
"I just hope that they don’t ask you to wear sothing revealing because I know those marks are still there," Mike laughed.
His knowledge caused her expression to change, similar to how expressions often shift when soone realizes that another person has conducted significantly more research than they anticipated.
"You’ve been looking into ," she said.
"Well, yeah, I spend hours and hours punishing you to just look at your sorry-ass expression of getting ruined," Mike said. "I look into everything."
"That’s not normal behavior."
"We’re calling it normal behavior now, huh? Since it’s going to be a family-friendly context, then..."
"Showing up to a university campus in disguise to et a boyfriend that your agency is unaware of is also not normal behavior." He tilted his head. "We can argue about what’s normal if you want."
"I’ve got ti, a lot of ti, because I’m unemployed."
She folded her arms. It was a defensive gesture, which he noted, and also an uncomfortable one, which ant the composure was costing her sothing.
"So what is the matter? What do you actually want?" Madison tried to not look at his face. "Spill it fast because I want this to be a ti thing only..."
"I told you! A conversation." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at her directly. "And your phone number."
"My number," she repeated.
"Your personal one. Not the managent contact or the line that goes to an assistant." He maintained eye contact with her. "I want your number."
She was quiet for a mont. "And if I give you that, you’ll—"
"I’ll keep what I have where it is," Mike said. "For now..."
"That’s what I’m offering at this mont. It’s not about permanence or guarantees. It’s just a starting point."
"That’s not a very reassuring offer."
"No," he agreed. "It’s not."
"You do realize this is extortion."
"That’s a strong word."
"It’s the correct word," Madison said. "You followed , you photographed without consent, and now you’re sitting in a hotel room telling what you will and won’t do with it."
"That’s the definition."
"I prefer to think of it as leverage," Mike said. "Extortion sounds hostile, and I’m not hostile."
"Oh, fuck you... you really are hostile for what you did hours ago!" Madison gritted her teeth. "But... weird... You’re really not bothered by any of this, are you?"
"Should I be?"
She stared at him. "Most people, when they do sothing like this, at least have the decency to look guilty about it."
"I’ve found guilt is mostly just the emotion people perform when they want the other person to feel sorry for them," Mike said. "I don’t need you to feel sorry for ."
"I just need you to hear out, or maybe it’s better if you start being submissive to ," Mike laughed.
"Oh, fuck off," she said, her voice flat. "Still... I don’t have a lot of other options right now, do I?"
"You always have options," Mike said. "You just don’t like the ones that are available."
She regarded him with the scrutinizing gaze of soone who had dedicated a considerable part of her career to understanding people, now faced with an individual who was not providing the familiar cues she relied on.
He exhibited no signs of nervousness, and he showed no excitent at all. There was none of the eager anticipation typical of those who believed they held power over soone from whom they desired sothing.
Instead, he simply sat in the chair, observing her as if he had already determined the outco of their interaction and was allowing her the courtesy of reaching the sa conclusion in her own ti.
"Why my number specifically?" she asked. "What does that get you?"
"Access," Mike said. "The ability to reach you directly when I want to."
"Well, the sa thing a number gets anyone."
"And then what? You call ? We chat? You tell about your day?" Madison looked disgusted. "You’re not my boyfriend!"
"Maybe." He almost smiled. "You have a nice voice... I think the calls would be good."
"After what you just did to ..." She let out a short, humorless laugh. "You’re unbelievable."
"I’ve been told that before. Usually in a better context, but I’ll take it."
"Don’t do that," she said.
"Do what?"
"That." She gestured at him with one hand. "The charm thing. The smile. Whatever you think you’re doing right now—it doesn’t work on ."
"I’m going to rember everything that you just did to , and trying to sweet talk it is just going to make it worse!"
"I’m not trying to charm you," Mike said. "I’m just talking to you."
"If those are the sa thing, that says more about the kind of conversations you’re used to having than anything about ."
She opened her mouth. Then closed it.
The expression that crossed her face was neither anger nor any other specific emotion, and she appeared to decide not to examine it closely enough to identify it.
"You’re enjoying this," she said.
"I’m interested," Mike said. "There’s a difference."
"Enjoynt would an I don’t take it seriously, but well, I do take it seriously."
"You have a very strange way of showing that."
"You’re still here," he said. "I think you take it seriously too."
A beat of silence. The city filtered in through the window, the low, moving noise of a Saturday evening that had no interest in what was happening in this room.
She reached into her clutch and took out her phone.
"As long as my reputation is safe... I think it’s safe to just do this, but I won’t answer fast if you try to chat or call ."
"Eh, that’s fine by ." He passed her his.
They exchanged numbers in a quiet mont that both understood was purely transactional.
She handed his phone back and looked at the contact she’d saved. "What do I call you?"
"Mike Hawk," he said. "It’s the na I’m using."
Sothing in the way he phrased that caught her attention. She looked at him. "The na you’re using."
"Everyone’s using sothing," Mike said. "You’ve been using Madison Reed all night."
"I’m fairly sure that’s not what’s on your birth certificate either."
She almost said sothing to that, then didn’t, which was the response of soone who had just recalibrated slightly.
"Should I call you the actress that got tainted by ?" Mike laughed.
"S-Shut up! Just Madison Reed is fine..."
"And... This doesn’t an anything," she said. "You have my number, and that doesn’t an you have access to ."
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