You talk in pretty words, mostly to get the things done. You know how this world works, how people fall for sweet talks and end up doing the only thing that they have never even dreamed about doing.
You start with some random stories, that how you ended up being broken, how he was such a dick to you. Sometimes you add some salt and pepper to make the end dramatic but mostly it's just your words. And it works, all the time.
You say that, that's the problem with humans, they all are broken. They are just looking for someone who could fit in there broken space and that's what I am good at.
You go to the places with them sometimes, visit art galleries or museums, even though you have no idea what the real art is. Painting and poetries were always out of your interest, you say that, "it's not about the art I care, it's the artist who attracts me." Such a charming words right?
You had a life once too, a story of your own. But now you are just some random chapter in someone else's story, a part he will never read out loud, some pages he will only cherish when he will be alone in his home, when there will be no one on the other side of his bed and loneliness will hit him in the middle of the night.
He might call you after two glasses of vodka and tell you that, "we should do it again, I really like you." And for a second you will think about it because deep down inside you really wanna be with him but you know that it's just not good for your business.
You are a call girl after all and you were just doing your work that night.