Aviv (name changed) is a 24-year-old model from Delhi.
It was a Friday night, I was in my hostel watching TV and cursing another weekend where I didn’t have enough money to go out again. My friend Charles (name changed) had called me earlier saying he’d pass by, but he was always saying that and flaking out. So you can imagine my surprise when he walked into my hostel.
"You want to go for a party?" asked Charles. He was actually pretty well dressed, so this party must’ve been a big deal. Plus, I was always dodging him, so I was feeling a bit guilty. He said, "Before you say yes, please beware. this isn’t your average or regular party." So it was either the dross on TV or a seemingly fantastic party. I had to agree.
We got downstairs and I immediately knew something wasn’t right. Charles was always paying for cabs, but today he was being chauffeured in a black BMW. "Since when do your folks have a Beemer?" I asked. He just smiled and told me to play some music on my phone.
The whole drive he dodged my questions, even when we drove into a house in an affluent part of the city. The house had a parking lot filled with expensive cars. "Dude. It's nothing. Really!" Charles assured me to remain calm as he made for the door. By then, it was too late to back out.
The house was pretty nice, and there was good music playing. There were more women than guys, so it was looking a bit suspicious. All the boys at the party were about my age, and the women looked in their 30s. I wasn’t about to leave a party based on just that. I made it to the bar with Charles.
A few shots later, Charles stepped away for a bit. I was so busy thinking how I’d never been invited to such a cool spot that I never saw Charles come back with two women. One of them seemed like she knew Charles well. She had her arm around his shoulder. He introduced me to Sasha and left in the opposite direction with his friend.
Sasha (name changed) was pretty. She was also looked a lot older than I was. We talked some more, drank some more, then she suggested that we go upstairs. I needed some air since my head was hazy so I said yes. She took my hand and led me up the stairs, opening the door to a room. It didn’t have any other doors in it. Something went off in my head. Then Sasha pulled me closer and really ripped her façade apart. In a very sultry voice, she asked, "How much is it going to cost me, pretty boy?"
My heart sank to my stomach. Everything made sense at that moment. Charles’ secrecy, the BMW and the secluded location. I thought of all the times I’d judged girls around my college campus who had rumours about them doing similar things. And here I was, about to sell my own body. Was it something that guys often did? How come I’d never heard of it? Was this how Charles kept affording to go out every weekend? CHARLES! I was going to kill him.
Those three seconds felt like an hour. Sasha could feel my heart beating faster than usual. My fear must’ve been visible when she looked up at my face. She asked me, "Your first time, eh?" I smiled nervously. She led me by the hand and we sat on the bed. “How about we forget everything then, and just have some fun?”
My mind was screaming no then, louder when she put my hand on her blouse, and then my ear started piercing when my fingers were undoing her buttons. My body had betrayed me. "I’m going to kill you, Charles," was the last concrete thought I had.