“Come on!” I urged, grabbing a cold hand.Running down the hall to the stairs, Callie stopped, pulled her hand from mine, bent, and vomited. I tugged her back into motion and we raced down the stairs, leaving through the back door. She stopped and, bending, threw up again.Glancing up and down the alley, I waited for her to finish heaving, then took her icy hand and led her away.“He’s dead!” she exclaimed.Waving down a cab, I said, “Not now. We’ll talk about it when we’re back at the hotel.”Three cabs later, we entered the hotel. In our room, I poured Callie a glass of white wine, thinking it might be good for shock.She drank, then choked, the glass tumbling to the floor. “You’re bleeding! You’ve been shot!”In the rush of action and adrenalin, I’d forgotten. Taking the blood-soaked shirt off, I checked my bicep. The bullet had creased the inside of my upper arm; nothing serious. Antibiotic cream and a butterfly bandage could handle it. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry.”“Nothing?” she. After asking some other questions he suggested I get a covid test just to be sure. His call wasn’t the news I wanted to hear, the company was re-structuring, even with a re-opening date they were planning for wide ranging redundancies, and nobody including himself was safe. He said that they would have a firm plan and would have come to a decision by the end of the month, which was just over 2 weeks away.He hung up, and I was left with the thought that I now had no choice but to make this work. I was good at my job, but it was as boring as hell. The way the jobs market was there would be no way I would find anything else, and even though I had now got essentially two jobs which had enabled me to put some savings away, if I was going to seriously consider the camming thing long term, I would need to invest in better cameras, lighting and maybe a new computer, none of which were cheap.I was earning about 85% or my usual salary from camming, with last night’s show doing well, there was.
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