Kleo Erili
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Saccharine - Chapter 23 - Greasy Buns
🕑 Added 2025-11-12 18:12:01 +0000 UTC
She needed more information about Ethan Cooper. And she knew exactly how she was going to get it.
The way forward seemed clear. If she filmed for Bound.com, she would have direct access to him. She could grill people about him, maybe even talk to him herself, get a feel for who he was.
Fuck it. Let's do it.
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Ben's number as she walked.
"Sunshine!" Ben's voice sounded chipper. "How was the party?"
Chloe immediately switched to her Chloe Heart voice, bright, enthusiastic, a little breathless. "Ben! Hi! Oh, it was amazing, thanks again. But I'm calling about something else. So, I've been thinking about the Bound.com offer..."
"And?" The smug undertone was unmistakable. He knew exactly what was coming.
"I'm doing it!" She made it sound like it was the most exciting decision of her life. "I mean, it's such a great opportunity, and you were right, I shouldn't be so picky at the beginning of my career."
"I'm glad to hear it." She could practically feel his satisfied grin through the phone. "I knew you were a smart girl. I'll let the folks at Bound.com know and then give you the details as soon as I have them."
"Thanks, Ben! You're the best!"
"I know, Sunshine. I know."
He hung up. Chloe put her phone away and suppressed the gag reflex.
The bus was five minutes late, but that was practically on time in Valley City.
As soon as she sat down, her phone vibrated again. Steve. Of course.
She could just ignore him. But he wouldn't stop asking. He was enthusiastic, annoying, and completely unable to take a hint. Like a golden retriever.
One burger. One hour max. Then I can say I tried, but it's not going to work out between us.
She typed back: "Okay. Do you mean the Greasy Bun on Fifth? At 7 p.m.?"
She sighed.
Half an hour later, Chloe stood in front of her wardrobe in her tiny apartment, staring at her limited options. What would Chloe Heart wear on a burger date?
She grabbed her short denim shorts, a pink crop top, and sneakers to go with them. Casual. After all, it was just Steve Balls... at a burger joint.
She did her makeup in the bathroom. Not the full works like for a shoot, but a little.
She still had twenty minutes before she had to leave. She grabbed her phone and opened Instapic. One of the selfies was still unposted, so she could still use that. She uploaded it without a long caption, just a few hashtags.
It didn't take long for the first comments to roll in:
She closed the app. That was enough for today.
It was time to go anyway. She grabbed her bag and left the apartment.
Let's get this over with.
~
The Greasy Bun was packed. Families crowded into the red vinyl seats, and a few teenage couples giggled over their milkshakes, trying to find some kind of romance amid the heavy smell of bacon and frying oil.
Steve was already sitting in the far corner and waved cheerfully when she came in. His broad grin was impossible to miss, even from a distance.
Chloe made her way through the crowd, dodging a child waving his ketchup-smeared hands, and finally stopped in front of Steve's table. She didn't sit down yet.
"Hey!" Steve's enthusiasm waned a little when he noticed the look on her face. "Uh... aren't you going to sit down?"
"We need to talk about something first."
The smile slipped from his face. "Did I do something wrong?"
"Yes. My number." Chloe crossed her arms. "You got it from that PA friend of yours. Without asking me."
Steve's ears turned an impressive shade of red. "Yes. Shit. I..."
"That's disrespectful, Steve."
He rubbed his head awkwardly. "Fuck, you're right. I didn't... I mean, I didn't think it would come across that way. I wasn't thinking. I was too nervous to ask you directly and thought it would be easier to ask Ashley... so... yeah. I really didn't mean any harm."
His embarrassment seemed genuine.
"Just don't do it again," Chloe said, her voice softening.
"I promise. Honestly. That was stupid of me."
She nodded and finally slid into the seat. The red vinyl was a few years old, but it was still comfortable.
Steve breathed a visible sigh of relief, as if he had just survived an execution last minute. "Okay, so... let's see what you want." He pulled out his phone. "They have their menu online, it's easier than looking at the wall over there."
They leaned over his phone together.
"The burgers here are amazing," Steve explained with shining eyes as he scrolled through the options. "And the milkshakes! You HAVE to try the strawberry milkshake. It's like... like liquid happiness."
"Liquid happiness, huh?" Chloe raised an eyebrow.
"I swear! They make it with real strawberries and so much ice cream that you get brain freeze, but it's worth it." He gestured wildly with his free hand. "Or chocolate, if you're more into chocolate. Or vanilla. But strawberry is really-"
"Strawberry sounds good," she interrupted him with a smile. "And a cheeseburger with fries."
"Perfect! I'll get the same." He stood up. "I'll go order and pay. As an apology. And because I invited you. So double."
And then he ran off and disappeared into the line. Chloe watched him shift impatiently from one foot to the other while a family in front of him placed their order.
After a few minutes, he came back with a number on a small metal stand. "Number 47. Shouldn't be long, they're already on number 39."
He sank back into the bench, his nervousness seemingly forcing him to interrupt the silence with talk. "So, I've been doing this for three years now. In the industry, I mean."
"Tell me," Chloe sucked on her milkshake straw. It was really good. "How did you fall into that?"
"Fall into it." Steve grinned. "That's good. Oh, I was broke and needed money, and then I saw this ad. 'Do you have a big dick? Why not earn some money with it!'"
"And you thought, why not?"
"Exactly! I mean, who wouldn't want to get paid to have sex with beautiful women?" He drew exaggerated curves in the air with both hands. "And the pay is really okay, if you..."
At the next table, a mother with her children turned around and gave him a withering look.
"Indoor voice, Steve," Chloe said dryly.
"Oh. Shit. Sorry." He blushed and lowered his voice. "I always get too loud when I'm excited."
"So you're excited?"
"Well..." He fiddled with his phone. "It's my first date in... uh... a while."
Finally, their order arrived. The burgers glistened wonderfully greasy and surely had enough calories for a week. The ice-cold milkshakes came in large, fogged-up glasses. The milkshake was pink and thick and just as good as Steve had promised.
"Wait," Chloe said, taking a bite of her burger. "You're counting this as a date?"
Steve almost choked. "I... well... I mean, just-"
"I'm just teasing you." She couldn't help but smile.
"Oh, okay," Steve glanced at his phone. "So, what do you do... in your free time? Hobbies and stuff?"
Chloe thought about it. 'Investigating a murder case' probably wouldn't be a good answer. "Um... yoga. Webflix. I used to run a lot, I was on the track team in high school."
"Cool, cool." Steve nodded enthusiastically. Then he fell silent.
"What about you?" Chloe asked. "What are your hobbies?"
"Shit." He rubbed his face. "I should have thought of something cool. But I didn't expect you to ask me back."
She laughed. "That's literally the most obvious counter-question ever."
"I know! Damn. Okay, honestly? I mostly play video games and..." He blushed. "Watch porn."
Chloe burst out laughing.
"For research!" he hastily added, which only made her laugh even more. "I'm serious! You can learn a lot about technique and-"
"Steve."
"Yes?"
"What are you looking at on your phone all the time?"
He was actually right in the process of discreetly tilting his phone on the table again. Being caught, he put it away.
"Conversation topics for first dates," he admitted. "I looked it up on the internet. Number one was asking about hobbies."
"Oh my God." She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "You're a disaster."
"I know! I'm so bad at this stuff." He sucked awkwardly on his milkshake. "I never really had a girlfriend, before porn. Or after. Actually..." He hesitated. "I didn't even have sex before doing porn."
"Wait, what?" Chloe put down her burger. "You were a virgin when you started?"
"Yeah. My first scene was technically my first time." He shrugged. "Talk about performance anxiety."
"But then why no porn star girlfriend? After three years? Surely you meet girls all the time?"
Steve looked as if she had suggested he fly to the moon. "No! I could never... they're all so hot. I wouldn't stand a chance."
Chloe raised an eyebrow. "And I'm not hot?"
"NO! I mean, YES!" Steve panicked and waved his arms wildly. "You're incredibly hot! I wasn't even brave enough to ask you out, so I asked Ashley for your number, which... uh... sorry again for that..." He took a breath. "But you were also kind of different. You seemed... nice? Normal? Not so... I don't know..."
He took a big sip of milkshake, obviously to buy some time.
"You know," he finally said, "at our scene the other day... I had a really hard time because you were so... um, never mind... but then I noticed something that relaxed me."
"What was that?"
He smiled. "Your butt hole puckered so cutely during the scene. I found that kind of... funny?"
Chloe almost choked on her milkshake, then burst out laughing. "That is DEFINITELY not standard date conversation, Steve."
"Okay, yeah, okay," Steve suddenly blushed, as if his brain had finally caught up. "That was weird. Fuck. Let's talk about something else." He reached for his burger in a panic. "Did you know that hamburgers actually come from Germany?"
"Steve..."
"No, really! It's really interesting!" His voice became higher, faster, and a touch more desperate. "The Germans had this minced meat thing, 'Hamburger Steak,' it was from Hamburg, that's why it's called 'Hamburger Steak', and then we invented the bun to go with it, and…"
Chloe let him talk and just grinned at his desperate attempt to save the conversation. It was kind of cute how he resorted to this nervous monologue.
Then she noticed something behind Steve.
A young, overweight woman was staring directly at her. Not curiously or friendly, no, she seemed hostile and full of contempt.
Their eyes met. The woman didn't look away. On the contrary, her expression hardened and her lips pressed into a thin line.
What's with her? Does she know me? Has she seen my videos?
Chloe forced herself to look away and focus on Steve again, who had now moved on to the industrial production of sesame buns. But she could still feel the woman's gaze on her.
The woman got up, walked over to the beverage station with her tray, and refilled her cup. Chloe watched her out of the corner of her eye, a queasy feeling spreading in the pit of her stomach.
The woman came back and walked right past their table.
And then it happened.
The entire contents of the jumbo cup full of ice-cold Coke spilled over Chloe. The cold, sticky soda immediately soaked her top, ran down her torso, and seeped into her bra.
"Oh, how clumsy of me," said the woman, her voice dripping with feigned regret. Her eyes said something else: 'Slut. You deserve it.'
Chloe just sat there, soaked, shocked, sticky, and unable to breathe for a moment because the Coke had been so cold.
She recognized me. She knows what I do. And she hates me for it.
Steve jumped up immediately. "Shit! Are you okay? What's wrong with her?"
He grabbed some napkins and tried to help her dab up the mess, but it didn't help much. The crop top was completely soaked and stuck to her skin, sticky and cold.
"Listen," Steve said, "I live just a few blocks from here. I'm sure I have a clean shirt you can borrow. You can change at my place."
Chloe hesitated. She was uncomfortable, her bra was soaked, even her shorts had gotten wet. The thought of driving all the way home like this...
"Okay," she finally said. "Let's go."
They left the Greasy Bun together, while the woman watched from her table with a smug smile on her lips.
~
The walk to Steve's apartment was short, he really did live just a few blocks down the street. Chloe kept tugging at her sticky top, which clung uncomfortably to her skin. It also smelled disgustingly sweet.
"Here it is," Steve said, pointing to a four-story building. His apartment was on the second floor. He pushed the door open and made an exaggerated bow as he let her in.
The apartment was small but surprisingly tidy, except for the chair at his desk, which was piled high with clothes. The living room was dominated by a huge, comfortable couch. But what really made Chloe pause was the wall opposite.
Shelves full of video games and old consoles lined the wall. Gray boxes, black boxes, blue boxes, and even a few of those clunky beige things from the nineties. The controllers hung neatly on hooks and the games were sorted as well.
A wave of nostalgia hit her unexpectedly. She and Samantha, huddled in front of the old TV in Oak Springs, controllers in their hands, arguing over who got to use the best race car. Not that it mattered. Samantha often let her win anyway.
Better times.
"A bit messy, I know," said Steve, misinterpreting her gaze. "But I try to keep it organized. The collection, I mean. Not the apartment." He scratched his head. "Although the apartment is okay, too, right?"
He went to a dresser and pulled open a drawer. "Here, this should fit." He held out an oversized T-shirt with Darth Vader on it. "It's definitely dry."
"Thanks." She took the shirt. "Where's the bathroom?"
"Over there." He pointed to a door. "Towels are in the closet, if you... well."
The bathroom was tiny and the tiles were really yellow. The mirror hadn't been cleaned in a long time and the shower... well, it could have used a cleaning too.
She pulled the sticky top over her head, struggling briefly when it got caught in her hair. The bra had to come off too, the Coke had seeped through.
That's so disgusting. That stupid-
She turned on the tap and washed the sticky residue off her skin. She looked tired in the mirror. Her makeup was slightly smudged and her hair hung a little messily around her face.
She pulled on Steve's shirt, which was probably too big for him too. It was huge, hung down like a tent and reached almost to her knees. But it was comfortable and even smelled as if it had been freshly washed before lying in the closet for months.
What are you doing here, anyway?
She shook off the thought and opened the bathroom door.
The moaning caught her off guard. Loud, perhaps slightly theatrical moaning coming from the living room.
Steve was sitting on the couch, laptop on the coffee table, frantically trying to close a tab. But it was too late, she had already seen it. Her Throat Me video was on the screen.
