Chapter 11: Mouth Service, No Refunds
Lina reached into her jacket, took out a tissue, and quietly spat into it. Then she tossed it in the trash like it was nothing.
"Next time," she said with a smirk, "let the girl know before, alright?"
Nash didn’t answer. His throat felt tight. He looked down, face burning.
Lina tapped his chest, still smirking.
"You’ve got credits, right? Let’s call it a service. Maybe I should start charging."
He gave a weak nod.
She looked at him, then sighed.
"Hey... don’t look so down. First times are rough. I’m sure you’ll get better."
She gave his cheek a light pat and walked out, leaving him alone in the bathroom.
The silence pressed in like a weight on his chest.
Nash stood frozen, eyes locked on the cracked tile beneath his shoes. His hands trembled, not from cold but from the sting crawling up his spine. His face burned. He wanted to disappear.
The ghosts of his past spoke louder than the silence.