1988 - Daily Life
1988 - Daily Life
'Checking the auction items should be about enough now...'
Now it was time to find the person I needed immediately.
No matter how special Nabi's manpower agency was, it was ultimately a company that provided those kinds of services.
Men's desires are all like that.
I opened the back section, around page 200.
That side wasn't for long-term contracts but for short-term, per-night arrangements.
While there were desirable women, they couldn't come immediately just because I called.
It was probably rarer for them to be in New York in the first place.
Nabi didn't invite people monthly or quarterly for no reason.
It was unavoidable since many employees and members were foreigners.
'2222-814...'
I picked up the phone and dialed the number from the back of the magazine.
"Edwin Conglomerate. How may I assist you?"
"Trump Tower 45-10. 212-555-77**."
"Confirmed. Member-nim. This is Nabi."
"A woman who can spend a night in New York."
"Please wait a moment."
About a minute of silence passed.
"Thank you for waiting. Shall we target New York State?"
"Starting from Manhattan."
"Understood. First, page 211."
Click.
I flipped a few pages and looked at page 211.
Too much.
"Age under thirty."
"Understood. Next is page 248."
"Pass."
"Page 276."
"Pass."
"Page 318."
"...Hmm."
A photo of a woman with light brown hair and distinct, impressive eyes came into view.
Should I call it a cat-like face?
It deserved extra points for not having the typical thick lips of Westerners.
Elizabeth Sweety.
Former child actress, Broadway stage actress.
Not bad.
Age, looks, figure.
"Let's go with this woman."
"She is available after 22:00, is that alright?"
"What if I pay an express fee?"
"The express fee is thirty thousand dollars."
Thirty thousand?
Does it skyrocket that drastically?
I could pay it if I had to, but...
A thousand dollars for a night becoming thirty-one thousand dollars is too big of a gap.
"I'll pay."
Still, I don't want to hold back because of money.
It's about time I started using it properly anyway.
I can get paid in coin eventually.
"Thirty thousand dollars. Are you serious-nim? The express fee leaves a record and is non-refundable."
"Don't beat around the bush. What do you want?"
"We at Nabi recommend you watch a play. Are you truly at the level where you must pay the express fee?"
"A play?"
I can roughly guess the situation.
Seems like it's an important period.
If you pay the express fee, in most cases they drop out for reasons like health issues, you see.
So thirty thousand was the price for her career.
Then you should have said so from the start.
Nabi during this period is more rigid than I thought?
"Cancel the express. Do I need a bouquet?"
"An excellent judgment-nim. If you entrust the arrangement to us, there is an additional fee of one hundred dollars."
"Send it."
"Understood. You can pay it together when you pay her fee."
"What about seat reservations?"
"Play Orion House, 318 West, 47th Street, Seat M-13, 18:00 performance."
"Wait. Say that again."
I picked up a pen and wrote down the theater's address.
"Shall I make the reservation like that?"
"Yes."
"Understood. I wish you a pleasant evening."
After hanging up, I dialed another number.
The concierge service number provided by the building.
"Rainbow Room. I'd like to make a reservation between 20:00 and 22:00. Yes. A window seat for two."
Since I'm going with a bouquet anyway, why not have a proper date for the first time in a while.
Play Orion House was a mid-sized theater with about 400-500 seats.
Posters were plastered everywhere, not with photos but drawings of just the two lead actors.
A title I'd never heard before, 'Cats of 42nd Street'.
The poster really felt of its era.
The current time was 17:40.
The bouquet probably went to the dressing room an hour ago.
Broadway tradition.
It's still an era where romance is alive.
"Show me your ticket."
"I was told I can go straight to seat M-13."
"Ah! Yes. Please enter."
I entered the lobby and lit a cigarette.
Smoking in the auditorium is forbidden, you see.
I heard it wasn't in the early 80s, but I was a minor back then.
Anyway, I can feel the no-smoking policy in public areas gradually expanding.
In about ten years, it'll be completely non-smoking even on airplanes, so it'd be good to buy a private jet before that.
"Kuh-."
I ordered a beer to wet my mouth.
Meanwhile, people started increasing one by one.
Numerous people were refueling on drinks and cigarettes like me.
Broadway has its own formalities, so you shouldn't bring anything into the auditorium, and some strict places even check attire.
It's Off-Broadway anyway, so it's probably less strict than the main theaters.
Everyone knows that, so they fill their slight hunger, nicotine, and alcohol cravings briefly before the show starts.
"Cough! Cough! Dad! I want that!"
A child holding a parent's hand coughed but begged for chocolate.
No one put out their cigarette or waved away the smoke.
Because in the dad's other hand, holding the child's hand, was a cigarette.
1988.
Children had to be strong.
Or maybe only the strong children remained.
Clap clap clap-!
About a two-hour performance.
It was much more fun than I expected.
Elizabeth was much prettier in person than in her photo.
In a satisfied mood, I headed towards the waiting room.
"Excuse me. This area is off-limits to non-personnel."
"I came to meet Elizabeth Sweety. I wonder if she received the bouquet well."
"Please wait a moment."
Usually, Broadway has a stage door.
After the performance, actors come out through there to interact with the audience or receive autographs—it's a culture.
Unfortunately, today I have a monopoly.
"Arthur Kim, is that correct-nim?"
"Yes."
"Please go in. It's waiting room number 3."
I headed to waiting room number 3 and knocked.
"Come in."
Click.
Opening the door and entering, Elizabeth, still wearing her stage costume, greeted me with a smile.
"Hello. I'm Elizabeth Sweety."
"Arthur Kim."
Though the same age as me, she looks older than me based on appearance.
Around mid-twenties?
The childishness is gone, leaving only the traces of a fully mature woman at her most beautiful period.
As expected, white people develop quickly.
Brown hair, green eyes, a sleek jawline—it's attractive.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"The bouquet. It's been a really long time since I received one."
Unexpected.
She probably received quite a few.
It's not like she was a bad actress.
Being a fairly well-known former child actress, shouldn't she have some fanboys?
"I enjoyed the play very much."
"Really?"
"Yes. Though the content was different from what I expected."
"Hehe. Was my acting okay?"
"It was good. I especially liked the cat in the second act."
If you live as part of the affluent class in New York, you inevitably end up watching performances.
Whether by choice or by force.
Naturally, I've seen all sorts of performances, and my standards have naturally risen.
Even to my eyes, her acting was top-notch.
To the point where I couldn't understand why she hadn't succeeded in previous cycles.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
Click.
I pressed the button I felt behind my back and locked the door.
"...Huh?"
"The original plan was to go to a restaurant like this and have a meal, you see."
And I walked towards her.
Elizabeth looked a bit intimidated but didn't avoid me.
"The performance was more splendid than I thought, and you were better than I expected."
"Th, thank you..."
"So the plan changed."
It's been a month since the regression.
I haven't even held a woman, let alone masturbated.
There were many things to do, but the biggest reason was my standards were too high.
And I saw a woman I liked for the first time in a very long while.
Creak-.
I passed by her and sat up on the dressing table.
"It's, it's not time yet."
She looked alternately at me and her watch and said cautiously.
20:20.
That statement is certainly correct.
The contract between Elizabeth and Nabi probably starts from 22:00.
"I see. A contract should be honored."
I affirmed.
"Then outside for a while..."
"But there are also additional contracts, and contract modifications, right? I'll add a thousand dollars."
Elizabeth's body flinched upon hearing my words.
A mere one hour and forty minutes extra for a thousand dollars.
It must be a fairly tempting amount.
"The waiting room needs to be vacated within 10 minutes..."
"It doesn't matter."
Her mouth opened and closed as if to say something, but soon closed as if giving up.
"Okay."
She nodded slightly and tried to take off her clothes.
"Don't take them off."
"Huh?"
"I like cats."
I like this place and that outfit, why would I make her take it off?
I can see her naked plenty later tonight.
"I really liked Marsha. To the point I wanted to take her home and raise her."
The role in the second act, the stray cat Marsha.
I wiggled my finger and called her.
"And don't worry about time. If needed, I can just buy this theater and turn it into a cat house."
It probably won't come to that, but I'm at a level where I can boast like that.
Manhattan real estate is still cheap.
"Then I can play with that cat as much as I want whenever I want, right?"
Elizabeth gulped upon hearing my words.
And quietly lowered her body onto all fours.
With her butt raised, she walked towards me with a haughty, delicate step.
"Meow-."
She placed both hands on the chair at the dressing table and looked up at me sitting on the dressing table.
An expression and gaze that seemed to crave something.
It overlaps with the play I just saw.
The stray cat that tried hard to be loved by passersby.
"I'm hungry. Why won't these stupid humans give a snack to this lovely cat?"
Saying that, Elizabeth began rubbing her face against my crotch.
Watching that, I unbuckled my belt.
If she's hungry, I should give her some.
I was always someone who provided food.
"Good human! Are you giving me something tasty?"
Lick.
For a cat's tongue, it was incredibly hot and soft.