Page 38 of For the Fans

And the craziest part of it all is that Ishouldbe living in the lap of luxury!

A week before the start of this semester, I was informed that because of a lack of available space last minute and some miracle of divine intervention, I was being switched from the Walsh Residence Hall to the Thomas More Apartments; the fanciest, most sought-after part of BC housing. Usually, you have to be rich as fuck, or a Senator’s kid or something to get in there. And nowI, little Avi Vega from Brooklyn, am living here out of sheer dumb luck.

And to top it all off, my newly assigned roommate, Ash Holloway, never showed up. No one’s told me what happened to him, or why he’s suddenly absent from school, but I can’t say I’m mad about it.

I sort of know Ash Holloway… He went to Somerville High. But that doesn’t make us friends, or mean that I’m bummedhe isn’t here. Because I now have a suite-sized double-dorm tomyself. It’s been two months, and I haven’t heard shit about where my Aussie musician roommate is, or if he’ll ever be gracing me with his presence.

Basically, I’m living the dream. Except that I’m not, because all the fantastic plans I’d made, to furnish my newpenthouseand throw extravagant Playboy-style parties, have been stubbed out by the lack of funds. Luckily, I was able to buy some nice bedding and kitchen stuff on Tom’s credit card before I found out about his company going under. Other than that, the place is sort of sparse.

But still… it isreallynice to have privacy and my own space.

Which brings me, finally, to the anecdote that proves I’ve gone off my rocker.

Frankie came over last week while I was in a downward spiral.

“What am I gonna do??” I’d asked her, pacing around the room. “I’m completely fucked… The financial aid I applied for doesn’t even cover all of my tuition for next semester, let alone housing.”

“How much do you need?” She gazed up at me from the couch in my dorm living room, her fingers steepled in front of her lips.

“Thirty-five hundred to finish sophomore year,” I sighed, then finally stopped pacing to fall dramatically onto my knees on the floor. “And anothernine grandto keep this place.” I whimpered, petting the hardwood floors with my fingers. “I knew it was too good to be true…”

“That’s it??” Frankie gasped. “Only nine grand a semester for this place?? That’s actually really low…”

“They took pity on me and gave me the regular dorm rate,” I mumbled. “But still, it doesn’t matter. How on fucking earth would I ever come up with thirteen grand in two months?? Even with the payment plan, I won’t be able to find that kind ofcash fast. There isn’t a part-time job in the world where I could work enough hours whilealsobalancing school…” Pressing my forehead to the floor, I whined out of hopelessness. “Goodbye, beautiful, spacious luxury dorm room. We could have had something so special…”

Feeling a nudge on my side, I peeked at Frankie to find her poking me with her toes. “I might know of a way you can get some quick money…”

I blinked at her. “I don’t like the way your eyes are sparkling…” Her tiny smirk widened into a fully wicked grin, and I straightened. “Frankie… I willnotrob a bank with you. I don’t think I have the stomach for it. Plus, what kind of mask would I wear?? There are just too many options…”

“Idiot,” she chuckled. “No one’s robbing anyone. Well… notexactly.” I simply stared at her as she leaned forward. “I have two words for you… I mean, two words smashed together for some reason.”

My brows knitted.

“OnlyFans.”

I continued to gawk at her for five full seconds before bursting into a boom of haughty laughter. “Yea…right. That’s good. Thanks, Franks, I needed the laugh.” I wiped my eyes while she narrowed hers.

“I’m being serious.”

Amusement fading, I scoffed and tossed her a look like she was nuts. “Dude, I can’t doOnlyFans…”

“Why not?” She sat back and folded her arms over her chest.

“Because…” I muttered, shaking my head at the tomfoolery of this conversation’s trajectory. “What would I even do? How would it even work?? I can’t do… porn.”

Frankie threw her head back in a cackle. “It’s not reallyporn.” I cocked my head at her. “Okay, well, in a way, I guess it is.” She scooted down onto the floor in front of me. “But, Avi, listen tome. You’re fuckinghot. You have a sick body, which I still don’t even really understand because you stuff your face with junk constantly and are like the least physically active person I know.”

I frowned. “I work out ironically…”

“The point is, people on the internet would pay good money to look at you.” She smirked. “Throw in some naughty lil videos, and you’re golden, pony boy. Problem solved.”

I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking about it… But I was. The attraction to fast money wasn’t something I could overlook at that point in time.

Because the more I stressed about it, the more I knew with absolute certainty there wasno wayto make the money I needed by working a regular job. It was too late. Even forfeiting the sick-ass dorm and moving home wouldn’t solve my problem.

I needed to do something drastic if I wanted to stay at BC. Especially if I wanted to keep living on campus, in this amazing apartment that had somehow just fallen into my lap. I couldn’t possibly squander this opportunity.

And my conversation with Kyran from the week earlier popped into my head…