Chapter 1: Rey Niima, Poor Mechanic For Hire
Rey once thought January was the worst part of the year.
The panic of World War III coming about, the hysteria it caused, the sheer fact Rey had no power over it, no control, no way to stop it when she had very little control over her life as it was. All she could do was continue going to the garage, work on the cars for over ten hours a day, come home to her broom closet of an apartment, and sleep for five.
Then March came.
And it became worse.
Plutt refused to believe the CDC’s guidelines, refused to believe the science, refused to believe what they knew at the time of the virus that spread like wildfire. Plutt’s hygiene was already horrid to begin with, the beer bottles that littered the garage and the stench that sunk into the floor and the wooden walls of his office, the sloppy mess of his greasy, oily fingers. Rey wasn’t afraid of getting dirty, but she was not going to die like this.
She wore a mask, put on her gloves, and spent an extra hour every day cleaning her gear at the end of the day. This went on for weeks. And she was fine. She was fine. Most of her work on cars didn’t put her in contact with people other than the hand-off of keys and the testing of the front-seat engine.
Everything was closing down, and suddenly traffic and cars used on the roads were halved, then thirded.
Plutt was resistant to the government mandate of his shop going under limited hours, which cut Rey’s paycheck almost down to nothing.
And worse, as she eyed the May rent approaching, the landlord was not going to freeze her rent.
With hours cut down due to the pandemic, Rey found herself at home on a Thursday evening, staring at a blue-lit screen, browsing the deep depths of the internet’s job advertisements.
She had no idea what possessed herself to look at the web/relationships personals. Absolutely no idea.
Maybe it was because she was lonely. Maybe because she needed to find a glory hole. Or someone to sext. Or just something. Couldn’t be physical, but she needed something.
What she didn’t expect was an ad for a sugar daddy.
Rich Sugar Daddy (29M) LF Move-In Sugar Baby (18F+) Brunette. Healthy. No-nonsense attitude. Hazel-eyes preferred. Must Undergo Medical Testing + Eventual COVID-19 Vaccination. PNW Area.
The post only went up thirty seconds ago.
The medical testing involved a lot, and she meant a lot of bloodwork, from her FSH levels (whatever that was) to her vitamins, but Rey didn’t pay much mind to it, because she was willing to get the vaccine when it was deemed safe enough to do so.
And she was desperate.
Like millions others.
She couldn’t balk.
Hey, I saw your ad for a sugar baby. I’m 19F.