Chapter Text
Rey - One
You can call me Daisy. I’m only doing this to pay for student loans, grad school, and a start up I’ve been planning since I was twelve. I have documentation from two different doctors stating that my hymen is intact. I also have a business plan, if you’d like to see that too.
I’m an orphan, so I have no parents to help me financially. I’m definitely not looking for love, so no strings attached sex is fine with me. I have too much going on right now to start a relationship. I’ve attached pictures so you can see what you’re buying.
Also, to make sure that I cannot be arrested, the sexual transaction will take place in a location where prostitution is not illegal. Please be advised you will be expected to pay for transportation and a hotel room. Dinner is also a bonus.
The financial transaction will take place with Bitcoin - half up front and half after the transaction is completed. I look forward to meeting the highest bidder.
“So, what do you think?” I ask Finn, as he’s staring at the screen.
He’s silent, and Finn is never silent. He’s been my best friend since I arrived in the States. He’s been my partner in crime, my confidant, and my most trusted adviser. He isn’t afraid to tell me when I’m doing something stupid, which is often.
But this time…
“Have you lost your damn mind?” he practically bellows toward the screen.
“Well…” I start. I haven’t actually decided the answer to the question myself. I’ve tried to raise capital other ways. Then I begin to explain it all again, even though he already knows all of it, he’s been by my side for years. “I have a clear business plan, a structured business model, and I have approached every dotcom billionaire investment group. We even tried to get on that Shark World program!”
“Shark Tank,” he corrects me.
“I don’t care! It didn’t help! Nothing has worked, Finn! I’m the top student at MIT, I’ve won awards! And I still can’t get anyone to invest in my engine!” I throw my hands up in the air, and turn away from him. That’s when I see it sitting on my workbench, the culmination of years of research, my steam engine model. “Steam engines are the future of transportation,” I begin to explain.
“The future of transportation, not just personal but also public,” Finn finishes my statement.
I stare at him for several minutes, and his intense dark eyes are staring right back into mine. Then suddenly we both laugh, and it breaks the tension.
When he’s finished, he’s serious again. “Rey, you don’t have to do this. Your opportunity is right around the corner. It’s there, and you’ll get it. No one is more driven than you. You’ll get your chance, and you’ll change the world. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
I smile at him. The confidence he’s always had in me takes my breath away. He’s known me since I was seventeen, when I beat him in a street race after I’d only been in the US for three days. Sure, I used to race in the UK, but it was with friends on old dirt roads and closed race tracks. I wanted to join the local scene, and the only way him and his crew would let me be part of the Storm Troopers was to put up the pink slip of the car I paid way too much to ship to the US.
I won, but his crew started shit about my British car, the engine I’d reconstructed myself, the intake and the exhaust system I built from scratch. That’s when one of them suggested they take my car, because I was a girl and couldn’t defend myself.
Finn came to my rescue, creating a diversion so I could escape. He looked me up, and after three days he finally found me. He was surprised to find me in student housing at MIT, and I was surprised that he showed up. But we’ve been inseparable for four years. Finn’s an orphan, like me. We have a lot of things in common, and most of them are emotions we’re working through to make ourselves healthier, better people. Finn’s much better with the friend stuff than I am.
He’s now a driver for a ride share program, and prides himself on getting his passengers to their destinations quickly and efficiently. He also helps me work on cars sometimes, which is how I make money on the side. Some of the other students have money, and want to play Tokyo Drift in real life. I help them soup up their cars, but I don’t tell them I keep it in moderation. The last thing I want is someone getting killed because they lost control because they couldn’t handle the upgrades I’ve added. Also, there are the students who don’t know how to change their oil or rotate their tires. They trust me to keep their cars in running order.
Which brings me to Paige Tico. She doesn’t know a spark plug from an air filter, and her car is, to put it politely, a challenge. Her sister Rose is a fellow student, in the IT Department. Rose and Finn met while he was changing Paige’s tire, and the rest as they say is history. Paige is a hairdressing and cosmetology student, and helped me with my hair and makeup. Rose took the pictures and put the website online. And that brings my story full circle.
“Have you shown this to Poe?” he asks as he points to the screen.
“Poe and I are not dating,” I remind him for the millionth time. Poe Dameron is a driver for the Resistance, a rival crew of the Storm Troopers. Or, he was. He’s now the backup driver for a NASCAR team, testing the cars and waiting for his chance to drive on the pro circuit. “It’s been two weeks since I’ve seen him.”
“He texted me last night, telling me he’ll be back for two days next week,” he informs me. “I thought he’d let you know.”
Poe and Finn are much better friends than Poe and I are. Poe is handsome, like wildly attractive in a way that men usually aren’t. Not to me, anyway.
“I can’t be distracted right now, Finn. I know you’re trying to set us up to be more than friends, but I’m just not ready.” I lay my hand gently on his shoulder, and he covers it with one of his bigger, darker hands.
“But you’re ready to do it for money,” he counters. I knew he’d have a hard time understanding. I knew he would argue, and tell me not to give up hope. That’s just how Finn is.
So, with the click of the mouse I change the screen, and show him a report I’d already ran on my finances. The number at the bottom is huge, and every time I look at it my soul dies a little bit.
“What’s that?” he asks, as he begins to look it over.
“That’s my student loan debt,” I explain, and point at the number that has now crept past the six digit area, and is very close to having a two for the first digit.
“But that’s... You get scholarships! You work!” He sputters, his eyes wide with shock.
“I’m a foreign student, Finn. With housing, and meal plans, and books, and lab fees, it all adds up. Plus, this is MIT. You don’t want to know how much tuition is full price. Trust me, I’m thankful for every department scholarship I get, and every award that goes toward my tuition. But it’s just not enough.” He looks at me, and I can see the understanding dawn in his eyes. “I’ve tried really hard not to burden you with my problems, Finn. I need to do this.”
We’ve all moved in together, to a tiny two bedroom apartment, which has cut down considerably on my expenses. Rose and Finn share a room, and Paige and I share a room. Paige likes to bring home guests, and that’s her prerogative, but… Most nights, I sleep on the couch. There’s literally zero privacy. It almost makes me miss the dorms.
He stands up immediately, and takes me in his warm embrace. If there’s ever been a man I’ve felt comfortable with, it’s Finn. After the group home I grew up in, I shudder to think of the headmaster Unkhar Plutt, I haven’t had a lot of positive male role models. I’m glad my reckless behavior led me to Finn. If I hadn’t found him, I have no idea what I’d be doing right now. Yes, I do, and I don’t want to think about it.
“We could go back to…” he starts, but doesn’t finish his suggestion.
“We can’t go back to that,” I state, firmly. “We’re lucky we got out alive.”
He nods, and looks away. “Do what you have to do, Rey. You know I’ll always support you.”
I smile, letting the bad thoughts stay in the past where they belong. “I know, and that’s why you’ll always be my best mate.”
“And you’ll always be my best friend,” he says confidently. He sits back down at my desk, clicks back to the webpage announcing the auction, and pulls up the pictures. “You don’t look too bad, when you clean the grease off your face.”
“Finn!” I exclaim, and slap at his shoulder. Maybe everything will be okay. It simply has to be.