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October 1st

T he sunlight streaming through the cafe window is too bright, too cheerful for how I feel inside. I stir my coffee absently, watching the cream swirl into the dark liquid, trying to ignore the dull ache of yet another disappointing night. Across from me, my best friend Lena practically glows, her newlywed happiness radiating off her in waves. I envy it—envy her. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

“So, how was last night?” Lena asks, raising an eyebrow as she sips her iced tea. There’s a hint of mischief in her voice, like she already knows the answer.

I let out a long, frustrated sigh, dropping the spoon into my cup with a clatter. “It was… I don’t even know how to describe it. Boring? Awkward? Pointless?”

Lena’s brow furrows in concern. “That bad?”

“Worse,” I groan, leaning back in my chair. “He seemed perfect on paper. Tall, dark, handsome, a lawyer—everything you’d expect, right? The chemistry was off the charts. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other the entire cab ride back to his apartment…”

“But?” Lena probes, raising her brows.

“We got to his apartment, clothes falling to the floor as he led us to the bedroom,” I continue, pausing as the server sets plates in front of us. I blush slightly, and Lena laughs, nudging my shoulder.

“Oh my god, don’t stop, Zara!” She grins, eyes gleaming as I sigh.

“Ten minutes, Lena. I didn’t even get to enjoy it before he was done.”

I take a large sip of my coffee as Lena winces beside me. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. So I just laid there, frustrated and annoyed. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long for him to pass out so I could sneak out.”

Lena sets down her fork, a thoughtful look on her face. “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

I scoff, shaking my head. “And where exactly am I supposed to look, Lena? I’ve tried everything—dating apps, blind dates, random hookups. Nothing works.”

She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe it’s not about where you’re looking, but what you’re looking for.”

I frown, confused. “What do you mean?”

Lena bites her lip, hesitating for a moment. “What do you really want, Zara? What’s your ideal fantasy?”

I take a moment to think about it—really think about it—before answering. The truth is, I’m so tightly wound, I’m not even sure what I want, so I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I just want to be used. Forced to orgasm so many times, I black out. I want to wake up sated for once.”

Lena laughs before reaching into her purse. She pulls out a small black business card, sliding it across the table toward me. The card is sleek and simple, with the name Obsidian Dreams in dark purple ink. I turn it over to find only an email address.

“What’s this?” I ask, picking it up.

“It’s a service,” Lena explains, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “They specialize in creating experiences tailored to your deepest desires. Scott and I used them before we got married.”

My eyes widen. “You mean, like an escort service? I’m not interested in paying for sex, Lena.” I scoff, trying to hand the card back, but she shakes her head.

“Not exactly. That’s an option, but it’s so much more than that. They specialize in experiences.” Lena grins. “We wanted to spice things up, so we decided to have a threesome with another woman. They arranged everything—down to the last detail. It was thrilling, Zara.”

I stare at the card, my heart pounding. Could something like this really be the answer? “I don’t know, Lena. It sounds… weird.”

“It is,” she admits. “But maybe that’s what you need. Something intense, something that pushes you out of your comfort zone. You said it yourself—you’re tired of the same old routine. Maybe it’s time to try something new.”

I swallow hard, my fingers trembling as I slip the card into my purse. “I’ll think about it.”

“Just promise me you’ll contact them,” Lena says, her tone softening. “You deserve to feel alive, Zara. Don’t settle for anything less.”

I nod, though uncertainty still gnaws at the edges of my mind. “I’ll think about it,” I repeat, more to convince myself than her.

As we leave the cafe, the weight of the little black card in my purse feels heavier than it should. I can’t shake the feeling that this might be the start of something… different. Something that could finally wake me up from the dull, unsatisfying routine my life has become.