He patted my shoulder. “Doesn’t matter; I’ll just pretend that you are. Got to keep our viewers happy.”
And who the hell were our viewers? Nobody told me anything.
“Go on, let me get to work,” Amanda told Master Derek. “I’ll make him pretty for you.”
“It shouldn’t be hard with this one.” He winked at me and walked away.
I rubbed my face, determined not to give him reasons to get too rough, although I feared it was out of my hands.
Amanda began to rub the makeup over my face, not being gentle. She was young, blonde, and batshit crazy. She covered the bags under my eyes, curled my eyelashes, and put lip gloss on my parched lips.
Unease ran through me at the sight of The Director walking in and sitting on his chair at the back of the dungeon, facing two monitors. As always, he wore black, his face expressionless. Seeing him made me think of Eliot, and my rage grew hot. My recollection of that horrible day was hazy, but I did remember how Eliot had pressured The Director to“give me a shot.”
“Are you excited?” Amanda asked, running her fingers through my hair with some sort of gel.
“No.”
“Well, you definitely should be. Master Derek is a professional!”
“Then why don’tyoutake my place?”
She giggled. “As if! That’s whyyou’rehere, silly.”
“Then why areyouhere?”
She pursed her lips in thought. “They take good care of me. Back at the orphanage, Headmistress Bella used to say, ‘You’re not pretty or smart enough to land yourself a rich man, Amanda Tulip, so settle for whoever is willing to take good care of you.’ That fat cunt sure knew what she was talking about, let me tell you. It’s a crazy world outside!”
I didn’t know how to respond, and seconds later, she announced that I was ready and walked away.
“Yo.” Bo came closer, chewing on an apple. Some of the juice dribbled down his beard. “You cool?”
I shrugged off his stupid question.
He glanced around before leaning closer. “Take this.” He held out a small vial with purple liquid inside it.
“What is it?”
“A little something to help take the edge off. You’ll thank me later.”
“I don’t do drugs.”
“You also didn’t used to do torture porn.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t trust you, and I don’t want your drugs.”
“Listen.” He leaned his face down even farther, watching me through the mirror. “I’m on your side this time.”
“I doubt it.”
“I’m gonna hurt my back if I keep fucking you on that crappy mattress. Just drink this, and you’ll feel much more relaxed. It will also hurt less.”
That caught my attention. The coming storm of pain petrified me. I eyed the vial. Though I had zero trust in Bo, knowing he had something to gain from my success helped calm my suspicion.
“Fine.” I took the vial, uncorked it, and drank what was inside. The taste was bitter, almost making me gag.
Bo took the vial back and shoved it into the pocket of his baggy jeans. “Let it do its magic.”
“We’re ready to start!” one of the crewmen called.
