The air between his boys started going bad, no matter how long they tried to leave the windows open. They were getting tired of the motels and their poolside women. There were only so many sun-bleached bitches they could do before his boys wanted more.

“What in the hell are you doing out here at this hour?” the security guard said. “Just taking a walk,” Price said. 

She springs up, goes to her page, and sees hardly any fans left. The next session has started, but there is no one left in the waiting room. The ones who stay spit insults. She reads them, feels hurt, so she gets no pleasure from it.