Page 1 of Ripple Effect

1

ELIO

“Fuck yeah, baby, just like that,”groans the man on the screen in front of me.

His face is obscured, the angle focused on the play of muscles across his back, the gleam of sweat highlighting the definition. A sleeve of black linework tattoos decorates his left arm, the inked skin moving rhythmically with each thrust.

The husky timbre of his voice fills my cramped apartment, each calculated moan designed to entice, to promise, to seduce. Another deep, heavy groan rings out.

I pause the video, my eyes tracing over the digital version of myself. Everett Rain, as my subscribers know me. I recognize the same detached script, but every performance is new, and the game is always different.

A character created out of necessity. An alter ego living in the virtual world of AfterDark, a popular site for sex workers to post their content.

My fingers slowly move across the trackpad, slicing through the footage with clinical precision. It’s a methodical process, trimming and discarding the unwanted parts. The missteps, the stumbles, the all-too-human moments.

The final product needs to be flawless. Passionate yet distant, intimate yet anonymous. The perfect fucking fantasy for my subscribers.

It’s well past three o’clock in the morning here. My brain’s buzzing from hours of editing, each cut leaving a hollow echo in the silent room. The glow of the laptop screen is harsh against my tired eyes, transforming my familiar space into a landscape of long, distorted shadows.

The muffled snores of my dog, Bentley, an aging golden retriever, are a soft lullaby beside me. I glance at him, sprawled across his faded dog bed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and a pang of affection hits me.

Over the past year, Bentley’s become my silent companion, an unwitting participant in the chaos of my life.

He entered my world unexpectedly, a curveball thrown by my older sister. With a newly moved-in, allergic partner and a cramped apartment, she wasn’t able to care for him. And my older brother, Luca, already swamped with commitments, couldn’t take him in, either.

So, I did what I always do. I adapted. And now, Bentley’s wedged himself so deeply into my day-to-day life. He’s become more than just my little sidekick; he’s now my most loyal friend here at Coastal U.

“Alright, boy, time for a break,” I murmur, pushing away from the laptop. His tail thumps gently against the rug, the sound dragging me out of the digital world and back into reality.

I retrieve my keys from the hook in the kitchen, Bentley’s ears perking up at the jingle. “Beach?” His response is immediate—a bark of agreement and a rush toward the door.

We take the familiar path to my Jeep, Bentley’s excited barks echoing in the stillness of the early morning. He jumps into the passenger seat, his tail wagging nonstop as I slide in behind the wheel.

Thankfully, Amber Isle sits just on the outskirts of town, a short drive from my apartment. It’s a little haven I’ve grown up beside all my life.

We pull into the lot and slowly trot our way to the shoreline, past the Boyer Inlet Pier, the place where my brother used to work when he was a student here. His old boss, Pawel, has long since retired, leaving the pier to be manned by a newer, younger version of himself. But even still, it’s too early in the morning for anyone else to be on the beachfront.

As we pass by, Bentley tugs on his leash, guiding us close enough to the water to touch, and I bend down to unlatch his collar. He stays close, and we’re alone, so it’s the perfect space and time for him to explore.

While he wanders, I stare into the open water, breathing low and deep. It’s as if each new wave carries away a piece of the tension knotted between my shoulders. The chill of the ocean air is a harsh wake-up call, shaking off the remnants of Everett and grounding me back into being myself, if only for a little while.

After a few minutes, Bentley trots back to my side, his movements slower than they used to be but his spirit as lively as ever. He carefully ambles ahead of me once more, sniffing and exploring, and I let my mind wander along with him.

Another academic year looms ahead—my final one in the electrical engineering program. It’s a bittersweet feeling knowing I’m a year behind the rest of my peers, but at least I’ve made it this far. There was a point in my life where I was positive that it wouldn’t happen. That it couldn’t happen.

A point where I didn’t know if I would make it to the next day, let alone the end of a four-year bachelor’s program.

And I know I’m up for grueling hours of studying, constant pressure, and the unending juggle of my double life. But for once, I’m optimistic, even though I’ll have to do it all alone now.

Kaia, my closest friend since childhood, isn’t here anymore to reassure me. She’s off to graduate school hours away at Dayton. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud as hell of all she’s accomplished despite the fact that I miss her. We still keep in touch, our texts and calls bridging the physical distance, but it’s different now.

She has a life partner, a boyfriend whose career as a professional athlete leaves her constantly booked and busy. She has no issues making time for me amidst her studying and dating life, but I’d rather not be a burden to the few people I care about.

And then, there are concerns about splitting my time with my job. The late-night filming sessions, the constant worry of my two worlds colliding, the gnawing loneliness that comes from selling intimacy while yearning for it myself.

A bitter laugh escapes me because fretting about all this is so fucking pointless. I don’t have any other choice. Not now. Not when my identity, my livelihood, my entire fucking being is wrapped up in my sex work.

But life goes on despite it all, the rising sun setting off a new day. A day that begins with Elio and Bentley on the beach but will end with Everett fucking some virtual stranger on a screen.

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