Page 80 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“Depends.” The corners of Brixley’s mouth turn downward. “VIP, you’re guaranteed to see my tits. But I’ve had someone pay twelve hundred dollars for me to pretend to be his sister for three minutes.”

I knew there was a deep, dark side to the internet, but I actively try to stay away from it.

“Do you feel like there’s a difference between what you do and porn?” I ask.

“I’m not a porn star.” Brixley shrugs like she’s been asked this question before. “I don’t have sex with anyone on camera but myself.”

Lucy looks at me like she wants to ask a question. I subtly nod at her, allowing her to join the conversation.

“There are some people who call themselves porn stars even though they’re touching themselves,” Lucy says.

“True. I consider it different, though,” Brixley says. “I never come on camera.” I look around us, to make sure there isn’t anyone within earshot who shouldn’t be. Openly talking about this in a public place suddenly feels risqué. “I’ll finger myself until I’m blue in the face. I’ve had anal beads and dildos, but I always shut off the camera before anything happens. I think that’s what the appeal is. People are trying to see if they can catch me.”

Lucy looks at me, and for a moment her brows groove, like she’s noticing how uncomfortable I am.

“Uh, Brixley,” she continues. “Have you ever felt any guilt with the people who pay to see you orgasm and never get to?”

“Never,” she says confidently. “That’s on them. They know what they’re getting themselves into and they know how much they’re paying. Do you think James Cameron is out there feeling bad if someone paid to watchAvatarand they leave not liking the movie?”

“Fair point.” Lucy laughs. “Is there anything about your profession that makes you feel uncomfortable?”

“People think that I’m invincible because I’m asex worker.” Brixley puts her four-inch nails up in air quotes. “They think I’m shameless, I have no feelings, that I’m a fuckingdoll.They don’t realize that there’s a person on the other side of the camera that has a mother and father who love them, because of course, they assume I come from some dysfunctional upbringing because why else would I sell my body?” she says. “People have respect for the person sitting in front of you today. The person who has three siblings, likes watching Marvel movies, and knows how to bake bomb banana bread. People don’t respectBrixley Carter,because sex is dirty. Sex is something that people who don’t respect themselves do. I wish you knew how hard that was.”

Lucy keeps her gaze on Brixley, and I swear I see her bite the inside of her cheek. “I, uh, I actually think I do understand.”

When the interview wraps, Lucy and I stay seated. We wait until Brixley leaves and is out of sight.

“How did you feel about that?” I ask Lucy.

“I thought it was amazing,” she breathes out. “Brixley is so complex. I cannot wait to go home and start writing my notes.”

“She was very…open,” I say, and Lucy turns to me, her eyes squinted. “What?” I ask.

“Were you uncomfortable at times?”

“What do you mean?”

“Were you uncomfortable?” Lucy repeats. “When she was talking about her tits and coming.”

Even Lucy saying it loud now causes me to wince and look around. “No,” I say.

“You totally were,” she says, her eyes blown wide. “You’re uncomfortable right now.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” I say defensively and then lower my voice. “I just don’t want people hearing us.”

Lucy looks around, confused. “It’s so loud around here nobody can even hear our conversation, and it’s not like there are any children.”

“Still,” I say. “That doesn’t mean we should be saying those things out loud.”

She frowns. “What things?”

“What Brixley was saying.”

“Tits?” she asks.

“Lucy,” I warn.

“What?” She smiles, almost amused. “Are you uncomfortable with the wordtit?”