The Prostitute and the Painter

"Wake up Olivia! I'm hungry!"

"Okay Khloe, I heard you" as I replied to my best friend. We were living together downtown and we were both prostitutes. Today it was my turn to go do the groceries, I woke up and showered. My hair color was usually white because of the wig I wore but my natural color hair was jet black which usually went well with my hazel eyes, but I always wore my wig because it was hard to remember the girl who had black hair anymore. This is whom I was now and I had to accept that.

This profession was really draining as it was quit honestly and I usually woke up at 12:00pm in the afternoon or later depending what time I get back but I'm usually back by 02:00am latest. I didn't like going out for much longer than that.

I dropped out of school at the age of 17 and I met Khloe when she was 20, now a year down the line as prostitutes I realized it was hard. I had no parents to look out for me as they had died that very year when I became a prostitute. I hadn't taken it so well back then. My only means of escape from foster homes was this but little did I know this occupation was hell itself. I had so many if's but it was too late for regret now. I had chosen this path after all.

I walk to Khloe's room "Money please"

"There by the dash board Liv"

I take her money and grin at her. "You are coming awfully later by the day Khlo"

"I know Liv but I need the money, so please let is slide just for once."

"Okay Khlo but you look like shit"

She throws a pillow at me as I walk out and the door closes instantly. I put on my shoes and earphones and I am out the door. I bump into a guy, "Sorry" but I don't respond and carry on walking.

Lucas: Pov

At the age of 24, I had stark white hair and blue crystal eyes, I lived as a painter, I often walked down the streets to get some inspiration and fresh air, but also today I was walking to go see my friend Bernard, it had been a while and the place was really crowded downtown. I bump into a girl with white hair with a small frame. "Sorry" I utter, but she just walks away without a word nor a second glance.