A little less hopeless, at first. [Dashenka | MaxMax]

[Zavaya]

Hopeless. It described her life perfectly in one word. There was no hope.

No escape from reality

Her life had sucked from the moment she was born and it probably would until she would die. It was well past 2 in the morning when she walked out into the Nevada night and closed and locked the door of the blue building behind her. With Mel's Diner now locked up, Melissa turned herself around in the direction of her trailer and sighed. Everything about Beatty was hopeless. It was Nevada's last settlement before entering Death Valley and the people here were only too proud too show that. Across from the diner, a huge billboard shouted that the new RV park of the Death Valley Inn had high speed internet and cable tv, listing a couple of tv channels that Melissa had never even heard of. It also boasted a pool, a jacuzzi and a laundromat. Making the rooms in the Inn more luxurious than her trailer, which had none of those.

She had been here since her parents had thrown her out. Hitchhiking along with a trucker, she got off at Beatty when she saw the sign for the Gentlemen's club. To her shock and anger she wasn't even considered to work there because 'in order to work here in a bikini, you need to have tits love'.

Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?

Not having any money to go anywhere else, she walked north along the state route 95 until she came across Mel's Diner. With her last money she bought a coffee and was hired on the spot when the owners told her they needed somebody to work for them. They had failed to mention that they would only pay her a pitance. In fact Melissa was certain that what they were paying her was illegal but never had the saying 'beggars can't be choosers' been more relevant. They even let her stay in the caravan. It didn't have an official address as it wasn't technically in the trailer park but just off the highway.

Since then her life had been Mel's Diner and everything on the south end of Beatty, Nevada. Every week she made the half hour walk to the north of the town to buy some cigarettes. Without money or even a driver's license, she couldn't get out of town either. This was it and it was hopeless. She worked the diner from morning until closing. She could eat and drink whatever she wanted and since her trailer didn't have a flushing toilet, Melissa used the toilet at the diner. At least the night sky was crisp and the highway quiet.

She walked by the Tire Shop that had put Beatty on the state wide news after they had been caught rigging the highway south of the town with nails to cause tire damage. Damage that they could then repair. A lot could be said about the people here but they were at least resourceful. Next was the Desert Inn, probably the most ambitious shack ever to call itself a motel and next was the guy who sold old car bits. Richfield antiques was run by a couple as antique as the stuff they sold. They were stuck in the 1950's and had never left it. It was tragic but at the same time, it probably was a better time than what they'd have now.

Melissa's knee high boots softly crunched the sand as she put her hands the pockets of her hooded vest. Nights in the desert can be pretty chilly. She turned left and right and continued to walk until she got to her trailer. There was no point calling it more than that. One end had a sitting and dining area combined, in the middle there was a kitchen and a shower and at the other end a bedroom. She didn't bother locking it but kept the windows closed to keep the bugs and creepy crawlies out. She swung the door open, found the first drawer in the kitchen and opened it. She took the package of cigarettes and a lighter and went straight out again.

She sat down on the small steps in front of the trailer and lit a cigarette. As she exhaled to the left, she looked up the stars. The night sky looked vast and enormous, like the dreams she had when she was younger. Before she could get more sentimental, she felt a wet nose against her red pantyhose.

"Hey Donnie... you're a good boy aren't you?"

She petted the large dog behind it's ears and cuddled. The dog belonged to the tire shop owner. As shabby as he and his shop looked, Melissa knew he took great care of his dogs and had them treated for fleas and all regularly. She kissed him on the head and let him rest his head on her lap while she finished her cigarette in the silence of the night. As she got up, the dog knew it had to go and wandered off into the night again. Melissa went inside and locked the door before stripping to her underwear. In the broken mirror she looked at herself. Her dull skin, her matted hair and the scars on her legs and wrists from all the times she cut herself trying to get a high or ending her life. She went to bed for a short and restless night.

That morning she was up early again. Partly by the noise of the trucks starting on the truck stop car park and partly because of the sun shining in her face. The old worn curtains in the trailer had holes in them the size of Texas. Melissa groaned, got up and stuck her head out of the window to the back of the trailer. There was never enough water on a day to take any meaningful shower so Melissa had decided to safe the water for two or three days. It meant that she could only shower once every two or three days but at least she had enough water to wash her hair. She stripped out of her underwear and got in the shower. The water wouldn't get hot. In fact, most of the times she was lucky if the water got slightly less cold but it was just another discomfort she had learned to deal with. A few minutes later she had washed her hair and the water pressure disappeared again.

Armed with a fresh pair of underwear and tights, she got into a red and black striped tank top and put on her boots again. At the door, she lit another cigarette and then left the shitstain she called home to get back to the other shitstain she called work. It was just past 8 when she passed the tireshop.

"Morning Al."

She greeted the man, who, like every morning, had already declared his shop open by sitting in front of it on a plastic chair smoking a cigar.

"Goodmorning Mel. You look hot and sexy as always. If I wasn't a disgusting old man, I'd tap you."
"Thanks Al, appreciate it!"

As much a hopeless place this was, Melissa had made friends, friends she really cared about. They each had their flaws and limitations but then again, she was rejected at a bikini bar supporting the town of Beatty. If ever there was a flawed and limited person, she was it.

The moment she turned the key of the restaurant, the first truckers left their semi's and made their way to the diner. Inside, she flipped on the lights and set the coffeemachine to prepare it. In the kitchen she fired up the stoves, pulled her apron off the hook and began work.

 

[MaxMax]

Bright red, under a modest layer of dust BMW roadster stopped on the mostly vacant parking lot, Elizabeth Evans looked around and then glanced at the dashboard. The "Service Required" icon was on. – "So much for fucking German engineering." – She hissed through her teeth, thinking the car was not the source of her anger. The email from her Wells Fargo was:

Dear Ms Evans,

Regrettably, we have to decline your request for a loan of $230,000.00 at 2% per year. We can however order you one of our standard packages: $90,000.00 at 3.5% interest. We can add an additional $5,000 at 4% because you are our valued primary account holder.

Your's Truly,
WF Team

Fucking BMW, fucking Wells Fargo. She owed a little bit under quarter-mil to a semi-criminal gentleman from New York, who spent most of his days in Somalia. His usual line of business was running a PMC that protected ships from pirates from Somalia, and selling weapons weapons to the East Africans…most of whom must have been from Somali.

He bragged that he was taking AKs from the pirates, and then reselling the same AKs to the new pirates, who came in the "opening in the market". Though Beth had no way to confirm or deny it, and men like him loved to exaggerate, but also men like him liked whether they were lying or telling the truth did not shy away from violence.

She was hoping to cover to do a "balance transfer". Covering debt to criminals with debt to banks, and then eventually paying off that one. Banks don't break fingers after all. She looked at her nails, she'll need a manicure soon too. Probably before she gets her car in the service. The car was probably bitching for no reason, programmed to slowly suck her money away and create jobs for BMW service engineers. Fucking communists.

"Can't trust my nails anyone west of Berlin Wall though." – She told herself and hit the wheel and exited her car. Her plan was to go to the roots. She lost money, trying to open her own "business". Now she was going back to what she knew best – scouting and recruitment. No more shenanigans, no more attempts at "full vertical integration, I scout, I maintain, I do sales". Simple, she will find girls, she will get them ready and trained, and she will sell them. She'll pay off her debts in under a year. If car does not explode.

As Beth walked towards the diner she slowly regained confidence, or at least the appearance of the confidence, she could not figure out what was the name of the place. Dusty, an old, unpainted sign escaped her vision, like a banner on the pornsite it was always in a blindspot.

She opened the door and walked in, noticing a desk with a stack of menus – "Mel's" – She thought to herself nodded, and looked around until she saw a waitress. She winked at her, her previous anger and frustration with the world evaporated and sat at the counter, straightening her knee-high black dress, and expensive shoes, she looked quite out of place for Beaty, Nevada.

"I'll start with coffee, two scrambled eggs, and bacon." – Beth said, moving the hair through her strawberry blond hair.

 

[Zavaya]

The woman looked out of place in this part of the world. Melissa hadn't seen which car she arrived in, too busy waiting tables but a quick glance outside showed only one car that could be hers. A European. It stood out between the trucks and crappy American made stuff like the woman stood out in the diner.

And then she ordered and she fit in perfectly again.

Melissa repeated the order, swung around on her heels and grabbed the coffee pot off the machine. In the same swing, she grabbed a mug off a shelf next to the coffee machine and put it on the counter in front of the lady. She poured the coffee and turned around again, putting the pot back on the machine, which looked as old and dingy as everything else in the diner.

"There's sugar over there."

She pointed at the middle of the counter as she reached down into a fridge, her chin almost on the counter and then raised up again with a small bottle of milk, which she too put on the counter. Then she smiled and disappeared into the kitchen. When she came back out, she had a few plates of food for a different table and eventually after running back and forth a few more times, she came back with Beth's plate.

It was a little chipped but the eggs and bacon looked tasty.

"Forgot to ask if you wanted bread with it?"

 

[MaxMax]

"No thank you love." – Beth said, the accent seemed to be from all over the place, though New York and something European could be heard. Which would be a compliment, because Beth worked very hard to hide the southern drawl, and spent a lot of money on accent mentors.

At the moment Beth looked at the bulbous sphere of fresh egg yolk on her plate and felt her mouth water. She exhaled admitting defeat. – "Actually who the fuck am I kidding. I'll have a slice. Or two." – Beth said and turned her attention to Mel. Even she was not sure if she just wanted to look at a pretty girl, or just needed to find something to look at instead of being seduced by the yolk.

Beth was not the kind of scout to "just feel the right person". But this girl was probably the closest thing to the feeling of certainty she had. Either she was having a real hunch, or her mind realised how desperate her situation was, and tried to throw everything at the wall.

Though, Mel was easy on the eyes if one wanted to sound pretentious. Somebody with an eye on beauty, like Beth could see a dashing stunner. She let her eyes linger on her legs before lifting her eyes again to level with Mel's. – "I'm staying in this town for a day or two." – Beth said and picked up a slice of bacon with her nails painted in two tones. Red and Black. – "Would you recommend any place to spend an evening?" – Beth asked before Mel managed to leave, and placed the piece of bacon in her mouth. She quickly looked around. – "I could pay for a tour guide. My corporate card is aching to spend anything. I can't come back to work without spending anything on a business trip." – Beth added conspiratorially. There were no corporate cards, but she found that it was an easier way to make herself look more relatable…while being able to impress young talent.

 

[Zavaya]

"You staying here? For two days!?"

Mel scoffed and hissed.

"Who's forcing you honey? Nobody in their sane mind would stay here longer than absolutely necessary. And by that I mean, matters of life and death."

She raised her eyebrows, waved at a table that required her attention and then disappeared into the kitchen again. When she came back, she dumped two slices of white bread on Beth's plate and went off to serve the table that had called her, asking to pay.

When she came back at the bar, she looked at the woman again. Definitely prettier than normal. Mel had been around long enough to know that people lied. She was the prettiest woman for miles and people wanted to get into her pants. Although usually truckers, it had made Mel weary of avances of anybody, especially when they laid it on as thick as this woman. But she was in for some fun herself so maybe this was the woman's lucky day. Just like that trucker a few weeks ago. Best day of his life when Mel went with him into cab. The sex had been lousy, at best, but Mel had a proper night's sleep for the first time in a long time because of the airconditioning in the truck.

Maybe this woman had rented a room in the Inn across the street. Air con as well. And a pool.

"If you want my advice? The place I'd recommend to spend an evening is get the fuck out of here and drive two hours south to Vegas. If you insist on having a tour guide, pick her up after work, in about..."

Mel theatrically counted on her fingers while looking up before looking back at Beth again.

"14 hours.. when this little slice of paradise closes. You'll find the tour guide dragging her sorry exhausted ass over yonder towards her home. Which really is just a dilapidated old caravan."

She wasn't sure if Beth would take the hints, even though Mel wasn't exactly subtle. But in a dead beat town like this, Mel had seen and heard it all and very few things still surprised her.

 

[MaxMax]

Beth had to hide the smile behind a chunk of eggwhite that she stuffed, somewhat unladylike. A lot of people would have interpreted a girl's attitude as unwelcoming, but she was exactly the type she looked at. Beth was a lousy psychologist or even a profiler, but she knew her type. One that made a piece with the shit outside. One that was riding the life on the bleeding edge between "giving up" and "I can handle it." The one that would not even think that Beth was giving her the short end of a stick after she sucked everything out of her.

She felt a familiar sense of guilt. The same she felt hundreds of times before, but she was not about to stop. She was not even sure if she was doing a bad thing. Beaty, NV and dozens of other small towns did not. She travelled across pure states of the US, destitute regions of Europe, and hopeless oblasts of ex-USSR. Places that were supposed to be so different and yet so similar. If anything, she was replacing one miserable life with another. And the one she was dishing out, had a way out. However small, however unlikely.

The short session of self-chastising ended when she swallowed the egg white and had an excuse to look down, to dip the freshly toasted bread in the yolk. She slurped the yolk from the bread and met Mel's eyes.

"Noted. Though, if you leave me with a good recommendation for a hotel…or a motel. Maybe you can meet me there, I'll make sure there is cold beer." – Beth said with a satisfied smile. She did not need to hide behind a corporate card anymore.

 

[Zavaya]

She wasn't sure why but Melissa felt it an agreeable deal. Cold beer was one thing, a good night sleep was the main reason though.

"The one across the road is pretty decent. Which here in Beatty, is as good as it gets."

Mel grabbed the coffee pot off the machine and refilled Beth's mug.

"Cold beer... and a hot shower. Then we have a deal."

She wasn't born yesterday. This lady wanted sex. Or at least Mel's company. Years ago she would have found the idea of that revolting. Sex for money was whoring and that was about as low as you could get in her opinion. Now though, she had gotten as low as that. Even lower probably because she wasn't even getting money. Just beer and a shower. Jesus. It was a sad state of affairs but this was her life now.

Hopeless, Nevada.

"Let me know your room number, I'll meet you there after my shift."

 

[MaxMax]

"Ask for Elizabeth Evans at the reception…" – She liked her lips. There was no guaranteed reception in the motel. – "I'll call this diner. The landline." – She assumed that google maps would have a phone number for a place like this. Most people probably still made orders to pick up over the phone in rural Nevada. – "Once I know the room number." – Beth said, she slowly finished her breakfast and then left a twenty-dollar tip before leaving with one last eye contact.

An hour or so ago, the diner would get a call, where Beth left her room number.

The rest of the day was busy with more scouting, this time online though. It was not as effective, but procrastination attracted too many thoughts, that she did not want to entertain yet. Mostly about how would she pay off her debt.

She had a break, when she drove to the store nearby and got some beer, she also got vodka and orange juice. She tried finding some food too, something healthy for a change, but soon gave up. Opting for pizza rolls and Cheetos. This was one of those counties, where beer was the healthiest food option.

After that, she went to scout the amenities of the motel. There was a swimming pool and a shared kitchen with few microwaves and an oven top that looked like it was ready to explode. She decided to stick to microwaves, they looked like they were bought some time in the 21st century. Probably no older than 20 years.

Soon the sun started to set, and Beth changed into something more comfortable and much more revealing. Opting for a black bikini bottoms, and knitted top. The swimming pool seemed rather empty, she thought and opened one can of beer and continued scouting the nets for girls while she waited for Mel.

 

[Zavaya]

"Gotcha."

Melissa noted the name in her brain somewhere and went on about her dull day of waiting tables and cooking greasy meals until she finally, around midnight locked the diner again and lit a cigarette. After sunset, the temperatures in the desert plummeted and as a result it was a little chilly as the blonde just stood there and looked up to the stars. The wide open freedom of space. It was such a big contrast to her prison on earth.

Elizabeth. Would she still be awake? Not given up on her, thinking she wouldn't show? Melissa shrugged. Even if she had, it wouldn't be the first time. Her motto was she had nothing to loose. Had been for a while now so she crossed the highway and walked up to the inn. At this time she wondered if there would be a receptionist in the first place and as she got closer to the entrance, she noticed that the lights were all out. She finished her cigarette first before she tried the front door.

This being a small town and a motel, the front door was still unlocked and as Melissa stepped inside out of the chill, she walked up to the reception desk where she found a small note with a name and a room number. Smiling she took the note and walked through the empty corridors, figuring there wouldn't be many guests until she got to the room number on the note.

Not expecting somebody to open and hoping somebody would just shoot her through the door, she knocked twice and stepped back from the door a little, waiting for a reply.

 

[MaxMax]

Beth looked at the door and then counted three crocodiles. The thought occurred to her that soon, hopefully not too soon, she would start developing paranoia related to people knocking on her doors. Most debtors did probably, but she had some time to enjoy. The worst-case scenario is some kind of serial rapist. She thought. I need to start thinking about all that positivity bullshit soon. She followed up on that thought.

Ten or so seconds later Beth opened the door. For somebody who did not in fact plan to have any sex tonight, she did a very poor job of communicating it. She wore black hipster panties and a mostly see-through top. – "Hey there." – Beth smiled politely at Mel and then stepped slightly to a side letting Mel enter.

"Beer and white wine is in the sink, in the bathroom." – Beth said, she stashed a six-pack and a bottle into a sink and then submerged it all in store-bought ice. Adding some cold water on top of it. AC was working, but let's just say – it did not plan to work for long. Just like a lot of other things in Beaty, it was waiting for a prince charming to end its misery.

"Bring me one too please." – She told Mel, and climbed back on the bed, slowly, swaying her hips just a little more than required. Just because she did not plan to fuck anyone tonight, did not mean she could not look sexy while not fucking. She settled on the bed and waited for a girl, wondering which one of her "starters" she should use to break the news to the girl.