"Am I? Haha," I laughed awkwardly, piecing it together mid-sentence. My heart skipped. I knew it—deep down, I knew. This woman, cloaked in an oversized black sweatsuit that swallowed her frame, was the one from the videos. The one dancing naked, baring it all for the camera.
No way… I thought, my pulse racing.
"What do you want to eat?" she asked casually, like we were old pals.
"Nah, I'm heading out soon anyway," I said, brushing it off.
"Oh, got it," she replied, unfazed.
"…Should we go?" She winked—barely noticeable under the cap—and stood up, hovering by the table. I had no clue where she was off to, but she was already moving.
I scrambled to shove the laptop and tablet into my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I stood. "Uh… what should I call you?" I asked, catching up.
"…Call me by my nickname. Got it?" she said, her tone firm but playful.
"Oh, nickname… I'd rather know your real name, not just some alias," I pushed, testing the waters.
