Rent or Forfeit 19

Chapter 19: Cold Reality

Tommy arrived at work on Friday morning with absolutely no intention of going out with Jill and the girls later that evening. The very thought of strutting around the city centre, all dolled up with the other secretaries, was the last thing he wanted to do. Unfortunately for him, Jill had other plans. After shooting him a disapproving glance mid-morning - his modest pencil skirt and a long-sleeved blouse not to her liking - Tommy did his best to avoid her for the rest of the day. But an hour before clocking off, Jill marched over to his desk, clearly not happy.

"Tammy, I thought we had an understanding," she began, her voice sharp. "I told you, you’re not going to get anywhere dressing so conservatively. I hope you brought something more fun to change into for tonight?"

"Uh, about that," Tommy stammered, trying to keep his cool in the intimidating woman's presence. "Something came up... I can’t make it."

“Well, whatever it is, it’ll have to wait,” Jill said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve already told the girls, and I’m not about to look like a fool because you’re backing out now. So unless someone’s died, you’re coming. End of story.”

"I appreciate the offer, Jill, but going out drinking isn’t really my thing," Tommy lied, trying to get out of the situation. "You’ll have more fun without me, trust me."

Jill scoffed. "Oh please. Do you expect me to believe that a pretty little thing like you, with your Barbie doll looks, doesn’t enjoy a good night out? Look, I’m trying to be friendly here, but if you don’t want to be my friend, I'll go have that chat with Miss Terry. You may as well start packing your things because you won’t be back next week."

Panic set in as Tommy realized he was about to lose his job, no matter how much he disliked it. "What? No! There's no need for that. Of course, I want to be your friend, Jill," he stammered, his desperation showing. "I’ll come tonight, I promise. I was just feeling a little nervous about meeting so many new people, that’s all."

Jill narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then smiled. "Didn’t peg you for the shy type. Don’t worry, once I introduce you to everyone, you’ll have a blast."

"Okay," Tommy muttered in defeat, "but I didn’t bring anything to wear."

"Don’t worry about that, Blondie," Jill said with a grin. "We’ll find you something. Meet us in the toilets after closing. The girls always get ready together, and no one can ever decide what to wear, so I’m sure there’ll be a few extra outfits for you to choose from." With that, Jill turned on her heel and sauntered off, leaving Tommy feeling like he’d just been hit by a truck.

Later that evening, after a whirlwind of activity in the cramped work bathroom, seven women - including Tommy - helping each other with hair and makeup, all while gossiping and sipping the cheap wine they’d brought along. The air was filled with the scent of hairspray and perfume, punctuated by laughter and shrieks as outfits were swapped, heels were clicked against the tile floor, and last-minute touch-ups were applied to already overdone faces. Tommy, awkwardly perched on the edge of the sink, had let Jill and the others take control of his makeover. His protests had been drowned out by compliments about his 'killer figure' and 'irresistibly shiny lips'.

“Come on, Tamtam. Stop pouting and hurry up, will you?” Jill called from up ahead, her voice breaking through the quiet of the night, disturbed only by the sound of clicking high heels.

Tommy looked up to see Jill’s commanding figure standing confidently on the other side of the street, completely unfazed by the chill in the air. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the way she glided effortlessly in her tall stiletto boots, as though she were wearing flats. Meanwhile, he struggled to keep pace in his sky-high platform pumps, each step sending jolts of pain up the back of his legs.

Having minced through a deserted market area - the kind that might be bustling during the day but felt eerily abandoned at night - Tommy paused briefly to rest his throbbing feet. A tight black dress clung awkwardly to his padded frame, and a pair of sheer, patterned tights did little to shield his legs from the biting cold. His overfilled lips, slick with bright lipstick, quivered as his teeth chattered, and his heavily made-up face, stiff from a combination of Botox and the howling wind, only added to his discomfort. Despite the faux fur coat wrapped around his shoulders offering some relief, his legs felt as though they were submerged in ice water.

(See image 19)

Looking over at Jill, feeling completely disconnected from the boy he once was, Tommy couldn't understand how she wasn’t freezing. Dressed in a black leather top that revealed an almost indecent amount of cleavage and a short denim skirt with no coat in sight, she stood there waiting, completely unfazed by the cold. Tommy shivered at the sight of her and couldn't help but wonder what she had planned for them that evening.

"Coming," Tommy called back, frustration bubbling inside as he wobbled uncomfortably on his ridiculously tall, sparkly pumps. They had already been out for two hours, and after being dragged to three different bars, Tommy’s feet were in agony.

Seeing the rest of the girls disappear around the corner, with only Jill waiting for him, Tommy took a deep breath. As much as he hated being dressed like some blonde bimbo on the prowl, the thought of being left behind felt worse.

After catching up with Jill, the two joined the rest of the girls at a swanky wine bar, packed with well-dressed patrons who looked like they had money to burn. After checking their coats, Jill led Tommy over to the bar. Nervously, Tommy picked up a cocktail menu, his long acrylic nails tapping against the glossy pages as he flipped through them. His eyes widened at the prices. “Jill, I can’t afford this place,” he whispered nervously, leaning closer to the intimidating redhead. “I’ve only got a few pounds left, and I need that for the bus home.”

Jill chuckled softly. “Oh, Tamtam, you’ve got so much to learn. Girls like us don’t pay for our own drinks. Time for a lesson - watch and learn.”

Tommy looked on as Jill scanned the room, her eyes locking onto her target like a predator. With a confident stride, she made her move, "accidentally" stumbling into a smartly dressed man standing at the bar. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. “It’s these new shoes.” She casually rested her hand on the man's shoulder before lifting her leg off the ground to show off her towering platform heels.

The muscular man smiled, "No problem at all. I can see how walking in those might be a challenge. They're pretty high, but I have to say, you look incredible in them. I'm Connor, by the way. What’s your name?"

“Jill,” she replied, flashing him a playful smile. “That’s sweet of you, Connor, but these heels are a bit much for me. Tammy here convinced me to wear them - she’s an expert in heels. Trained as a dancer for years. You should see how flexible she is. Tammy, come over here and show Connor your shoes.”

Tommy, caught off guard and unsure how to respond, awkwardly tottered over. When Jill insisted he lift his leg to show off his sparkly pumps, he did so hesitantly, feeling utterly humiliated.

Connor leaned down to get a better look. "Very nice," he growled as he ran his fingers up the back of Tommy's pantyhosed ankle. His gaze then slowly trailed up the feminized man's patterned legs before settling on his cleavage. "Nice to meet you, Gorgeous," he said, a grin spreading across his face.

Blushing furiously, Tommy averted his eyes, wishing he could disappear, while Jill smoothly took control of the conversation. "So, what do you boys do?" she asked, eyeing the other athletic-looking men in Connor’s group.

"We're footballers," Connor replied with a proud smile.

"Wow! That’s amazing! I’ve never met a famous person before," Jill gushed, her excitement clearly exaggerated.

“We’re out celebrating,” Connor said with a grin. “That’s Keano at the end, Adi in the middle, and this is Dom.” He wrapped an arm around the man next to him. “Dom here made his debut today and scored a screamer. He’s gonna be the next big star.”

As the group of footballers smiled over, Tommy felt a wave of discomfort wash over him, forcing a polite smile and a small wave in return.

Spotting the barman, Connor quickly turned back. “Four pale ales, and whatever these lovely ladies would like,” he said, flashing another look at Jill, clearly impressed by her appearance.

“Thank you, Connor. That’s very generous of you,” Jill responded sweetly. Then, catching sight of a blonde woman who worked three cubicles down from Tommy at the office, she called out, “Devon! Over here!”

Tommy watched in a mix of awe and unease as the other girls sauntered over and ordered several bottles of pricey wine. As Jill shot him a knowing glance, Tommy, despite his discomfort with her manipulative ways, had to admit that it was impressive how Jill had just taken what she wanted.

As the evening progressed, the group mingled, and Dom ended up chatting with Tommy. To his surprise, Dom was easy to talk to, especially after discovering that Tommy had an extensive knowledge of football. Before long, the two were deep in conversation, laughing and bonding over their shared love of the game as drinks flowed freely.

A couple of hours later, tipsy and relaxed, Tommy found himself wedged between Dom and Adi on a sofa, listening to more stories about the discipline required to make it in professional football. Suddenly, he felt a hand slide onto his upper leg, jolting him out of his drunken haze. Dom's fingers were gently stroking his inner thigh, uncomfortably close to his tucked-away member.

Looking down through his thick lashes, panic surged through Tommy as he noticed his silky dress bunched up around his waist, exposing his skimpy panties to the entire bar. His hand shot down to push Dom’s away, too weak to move it, he only managed to grip it awkwardly instead. “Erm... Dom, where’s Jill?” Tommy asked, his voice trembling with worry as he scanned the room for her.

“Relax, babe,” Dom murmured, his lips brushing against Tommy's neck. “She left with Connor a while ago. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.” His other hand reached up to twirl a lock of Tommy’s long, platinum hair.

“What? She left? What about the other girls? Where are they?” Tommy's voice grew more frantic as he tried to wriggle free.

“No clue, babe. They’re gone,” Dom slurred, pulling Tommy closer before pressing his lips to his in an uninvited kiss. “God, you’re sexy,” he whispered between breaths.

As Dom’s eyes closed shut, Tommy’s flew wide open in horror. He tried to move, but Dom’s strength pinned him in place, leaving him feeling nauseous as a hand squeezed his thigh, and even worse as Dom’s tongue forced its way past his bloated lips, invading his mouth.

"Get the fuck off me!" Tommy shouted, finally yanking his arm free from Dom’s grip. Like a cat cornered, he unleashed his claws, slashing them across Dom’s face.

"Ow! What the fuck? You bitch!" Dom yelped, pulling back and clutching his face. As he wiped his hand across his cheek, he stared at the blood on his fingers in disbelief. "Oh, hell no! My face... I’ve got a shaving commercial on Monday! My agent is gonna kill me!" he fumed.

Seizing the moment, Tommy scrambled to his feet, staggering on his heels before crashing into a nearby group of people. Drinks splashed onto the floor, and angry glares shot his way. "Sorry! Sorry!" Tommy blurted out, his eyes darting around in search of the exit. Finally spotting it, he bolted towards the door as fast as his towering 7-inch platforms would allow.

Two streets away, completely out of breath and exhausted, Tommy finally stopped to lean against a wall. The adrenaline from his escape had worn off, and he was suddenly hit with the cold reality of his situation - quite literally. His coat was back at the bar, and now, here he was in the middle of the city, freezing, his breath visible in the night air. He ran his fingers through his long, silky hair, then dropped his hands to cover his face. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, feeling goosebumps rising on his bare arms and shoulders. Overcome with emotion, he glanced down at the towering heels that would make walking home impossible, furious with himself for ending up in this mess.

Then he noticed the purse still clutched in his trembling hand - something he must have instinctively grabbed before bolting out of the bar. As much as he wished there was another way out, Tommy knew he had to call for help. Shivering, he fumbled with the zip of his bag, cursing his long nails yet again as they seemed to do everything in their power to slow him down. Pinching the zipper between the acrylic extensions on his thumb and index finger, he finally managed to open it and pulled out his phone.

He unlocked the screen and then froze. Who could he call? He couldn’t call his sisters - he’d never hear the end of it. That left him with two options: Henry or Maddison.