AI Era: Vixen Life

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I have other stories I'm working on, but I wanted to submit this for the Event. I've never done an event before, so I wanted to finally contribute. I enjoyed this a lot. I hope you guys enjoy it too.

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"What the hell is this?" I thought to myself as I looked at my computer screen.

I was checking my emails, hoping to hear about the audition I had last week. It was a horror movie. By the looks of things, it was probably just a B rated one that simply needed a busty blonde to run around the woods tits-a-bouncing until she tripped over a tree stump and died a gruesome death.

When I came to LA 5 years ago to become an actress, I didn't imagine it being this hard. I mean, yes, I knew it wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't expect it to be damn near impossible.

Everyone at home warned me. I was from one of the smaller, unknown towns of California. We never made the news. Nothing ever happened there. Hollywood was just as much of a pipe dream there as it was anywhere else in America.

My mom was against me leaving our small little life in search of star lights. She was comfortable in the simplicity we lived. She was a single mother who made a living as a teacher. She brought home just enough for us to not be poor.

She didn't understand. She couldn't. I needed more. I love her, and don't begrudge anything about my childhood. She did the best she could with the absentee partner she unfortunately chose to conceive with. But I couldn't live like her. Staying in that town, living her life, would've killed me.

I was always considered the prettiest girl in the room. Everyone raved about how beautiful I was. They said that I had movie star looks, and if anyone could go out to Hollywood and make a splash, it would be Annabelle Dunn.

Reality hit when I went to my first audition. I quickly saw that I was no longer the prettiest girl in the room. Those women were stunningly flawless. There were underwear models, swimsuit models, lingerie models, all of which had perfect bodies. All of them were looking for their break. And the actual actresses had way more experience than me. Some of them even had big budget movies under their belt.

I didn't even get to read my lines. The director took one look at me and said, "Ehh...no. Too basic. Not hot enough. Next!"

After a few more soul-crushing auditions like that, I knew I had to step it up in order to even compete. So, I got an agent, and he laid down the law in the bluntest way possible.

My acting sucked. I was fit for high school plays, not big-time productions. So, I enrolled in several acting classes to sharpen my skills. I also took voice and speech lessons.

Next, my appearance. I was a small town 10, but a Hollywood 6. I needed to work on my body, as well as spice up my looks. So, I joined a gym, got a trainer, and got to work. 5 times a week, two hours a session. I also implemented a diet that toned me down.

Of course, I'd be dishonest if I didn't acknowledge the "enhancements". I went from a B cup to a natural looking C. My doctor was expensive and highly recommended, and the results were phenomenal. But it was something I was still paying off to this day.

Even after all that, I was still having trouble. I can't even count how many auditions I'd been to; how many parts I've read for. But the actual roles landed were very few and nothing groundbreaking.

There were a few commercials, dozens of bit roles for TV shows, and countless background actors with no speaking parts. I was a corpse, a random shopper, a smiling secretary, a high-school cheerleader, a tennis pro, and a few strippers.

For some reason, the casting directors I ran into all seemed to be on a "quid pro quo" basis. Basically, these misogynistic assholes were more interesting in the "casting couch" type of auditions. For them, casting calls were nothing more than an all you can eat pussy buffet. Everyone wanted unnamed actresses who were, "comfortable with sexuality and nudity".

I sighed. After 5 years of this shit, here I was, desperately waiting for a callback for a low budget movie that was probably a softcore snuff porno. But I couldn't afford to be choosy at this point. I was two months behind on my rent. I'd been actively ducking my pervy landlord Mr. Hsu for a few weeks now. He was a short, fat, balding Asian man who had a thing for curvy blondes. He'd already hinted several times that he would be willing to settle my debt if I did a "small favor" for him.

I'd rather be chased naked through the woods by a masked killer.

I didn't see the callback in my emails, but I did see another one that caught my attention. It was titled: Role of a lifetime.

Interesting. I opened it. This is what I read:

Annabelle Dunn, you've been chosen. All I need is for you to watch a 30-minute video. After that, you will receive instructions if you choose to pursue this journey with me.

You are just what I am looking for. And I am what you need.

Oscar.

What the hell?

This email had all the makings of a Nigerian Prince looking for a safe place to stash his millions. Either that, or it was an intriguing opening from yet another porn director trying to cash in on my plummeting self-esteem.

I probably should've just trashed it and not given it a second thought. But desperation will make us think outside the box of conventionality. On the off chance that this was a miracle with too-perfect timing, I felt compelled to read on.

There was a link. I debated not clicking it, but then thought, "Fuck it." My life was already shit. Downloading a virus wouldn't even make my "top 10 shitshows of the week" list.

The link took me to a website called Vixen Life. There

was nothing extravagant about it. Just a black screen with purple lettering. Below the title was a box that said, "Click here for the opportunity of a lifetime".

Even further I went into the rabbit hole.

After clicking the link, my screen changed from an all-black background to an array of colors rhythmically moving; much like a screen saver. I was just about to dismiss this when a gentle voice greeted me with, "Hello Ms. Dunn. Welcome to Vixen Life."

I froze in my seat. This thing just called me by name.

I looked down at the bottom of the screen and saw that there was a play button and a running timer. This video was prerecorded, yet it was specifically made for me.

The video continued. "You're here because you're looking for something different. You're looking for a way out of the quagmire of the acting business. You refuse to give up, despite the odds being stacked against you. I admire that. So, I was hoping you would take a journey with me."

What was this, the Matrix? What the fuck was happening?

The video took me on a 30-minute journey explaining what Vixen Life was all about.

"Vixens" were women who volunteered to live their life online. Hidden cameras watched them 24 hours a day, allowing viewers to peek into their lives. It was the ultimate reality show, like Big Brother on steroids. The Vixen would be simply living her life in front of the cameras in real time. People could watch her eat. Watch her sleep. Watch her shower. Watch her go to the bathroom. Everything.

"You see, Ms. Dunn, humans are always looking for ways to connect to each other's lives, to peek behind the curtain so to speak. This experience allows people to live life with you, to see it through your eyes. There are no edits. No cut scenes. Just you, as you are."

But simple voyeurism was just the tip of the iceberg.

The video went into further detail. Unlike reality shows, viewers were able to interact with the Vixen. Like a game, they had a level of choice over her life. They could spice things up by giving her tasks to do. These tasks were called "missions". The viewer had to pay a fee for this, of course, as well as a tip for the Vixen.

It was like a real-life version of "Sims", only in the real world, with a real person.

"Our Vixens provide a service and are handsomely rewarded for it." the video explained. "On average, our Vixens can earn $10,000 a week. They live in our luxury condos and drive cars, all provided for them."

And that was the key phrase that made me take my hand off the mouse so I could let this video play through. Handsomely rewarded. It's funny how the prospect of money can change a person's perspective.

There was so much wrong with this. I should've been creeped out by the way this prerecorded video kept using my name. I should've questioned things, like how these people knew who I was, or why they chose me, or even what the hell these missions were. I should've been offended by the concept of using my life as entertainment for randos on the internet who probably just wanted to jerk off to me in the shower.

But all I heard was $10,000 a week. Quick math had me figuring out that $10,000 per week = $520,000 a year. I could make a half a million dollars a year, and all I had to do was let some basement dwellers jack off to me in the shower.

Against all conventional wisdom, I was intrigued.

"So Anna, I want to formally invite you to take a journey with us. If you do, I can assure you that your life will never be the same. I will give you 36 hours to decide. All I need is a simple yes or no. If you choose NO, or you haven't decided within that time frame, you have my word that you will not be negatively impacted in any way. I promise to never bother you again. But I hope you choose yes."

With that, the video ended. Then, large numbers filled my screen. It was a timer, arranged in the format 36:00:00.

Below it was two boxes: A green YES, and a red NO.

Suddenly, the numbers began counting down.

I sat there watching the numbers change, deliberating over this. There were many reasons why this could go either way. On the one hand, $10,000 a week was a lot of money. I could definitely use that. No more working 2 jobs. No more feeling compelled to make cheesy horror flicks. No more dodging my pervy landlord.

But on the other hand, did I want my entire life on the internet?

Each second that slipped away made me feel anxious. The mouse pointer on my screen alternated hovering over the YES and NO boxes. Finally, I decided to table this decision for the night. I needed to sleep on it. I still had time.

34 hours 18 minutes and 30 seconds to be exact.

I barely slept. My mind would not shut down. It was in overdrive, running through all the different angles if this thing were real.

This money could change my life. Not just for me, but also for my mom. However, there were many downsides. There was more than just the money to think about.

Would this affect my (non-existent) acting career? What if my family found out about this? My friends? Would I be safe online? Would I be another leaked video casualty out there on free porn sites?

Could I even live with myself?

The following morning, I showered for my first job. As I lathered my loofah up and washed my body, I imagined a faceless audience watching me. Would they enjoy watching the suds on my breasts? On my ass? Would they enjoy seeing me cleaning between my legs, or letting the streaming water run down the length of my body?

I had to walk gingerly past Mr. Hsu's door as I left for work. I couldn't stomach an interaction with him just yet. Not when I had an opportunity within my grasp to get his money.

The coffee shop that I worked at in the mornings was busy as hell. It wasn't a big chain like Starbucks. It was just a local mom and pop shop that had been there for 30 years. The only reason it made it this long was the location. It was perfectly located within walking distance of the college campus.

After my first job, I rushed home for a quick wardrobe change and headed to my second job at a high-end bar. This place made us wear little cocktail dresses (emphasis on "little"). It tipped well though, even if the men got a little handsy.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to avoid Mr. Hsu this time. Either he was extremely lucky, or he was keeping an eye out for me.

"Anna! Anna!" he shouted after me as I hastily tried to escape in my stiletto heels that just weren't made for running. He was so loud that I couldn't pretend like I didn't hear him. So, I skittered to a halt and allowed him to waddle his fat ass up the hallway to catch up to me.

"You have rent?" he asked as he approached.

"Not yet Mr. Hsu, but I'll get it to you. I promise. Tonight is a big night at the lounge, and I'm sure I'll get a lot of tips."

He tsked and shook his head with disappointment. "But I need rent now."

"I know."

"You two months behind."

"I know, but..."

He cut me off and said something in Cantonese that I couldn't understand. His lips pursed as he looked over the top of his glasses at me. Then, his eyes took a trip down the length of my body. They rested in the valley between my breasts.

"We need to settle rent." He finally said. There was a subtle tone change in his voice. The disappointment was replaced with...something else.

I cringed at what I was about to do.

Stepping in closer to him, I gently placed my hand on his chest and softly said, "I understand."

It took a few moments to register with him. His mouth opened and closed like he was trying to say something, but nothing was coming out. Finally, he said, "You...understand?"

"Yes." I said with a not-so-innocent smile.

"We settle rent?"

"Yes."

"Right now?" he asked eagerly.

I giggled flirtatiously and caressed his cheek. "No silly. I have to go to work. I can't be late. But I promise you that me and you are gonna...you know...settle the rent."

You know that moment in time when a person opens a gift they receive, and it is EXACTLY what they always wanted? There is a split second in there as their brain is testing reality to make sure they aren't dreaming.

Well, that was the look on Mr. Hsu's face right now.

"Okay! Okay!" He said, his eyes wide with excitement. "We settle rent!"

With that, he practically skipped away.

I held my composure long enough to see him disappear into his apartment. Then, fighting the urge to vomit all over the floor, I hurried out of the building and to my car.

Throughout that night, I floated around as if I were on camera. I smiled more. I laughed harder. I practically sang everything I said.

It made me feel uneasy to think about. But if I'm honest, there was also a bit of an exhibitionist's thrill to it. I enjoyed being watched. Wouldn't make much of an actress if I didn't.

And I didn't have an issue with being naked on camera. Nudity didn't scare me, especially for the right role. And whether I liked it or not, someone was going to see me naked. If it wasn't the internet, it'd be Mr. Hsu.

When I returned home from work, I nudged the mouse to awaken my computer. Now, the numbers read 16:02:25.

24. 23. 22. 21...

I knew what I had to do. After long last, I gave in. I finally did what I knew I would from the jump. I clicked on the YES box.

I don't know what I expected to happen, but what I got was anticlimactic. The numbers on my screen disappeared. No acknowledgment of any kind was given. Just a blank screen.

I panicked. Did I fuck up? Did I accidentally hit NO? Or was all this just some hoax designed to fuck with my head?

I fidgeted around with my computer to see if I maybe just minimized the window, but no such luck. I even looked at my history to see if I could pull the site back up, but it was mysteriously missing. I couldn't find it anywhere. It was like I had never logged in.

"Oh fuck!" I said in disbelief, almost in tears. A crazy laugh came from me as I covered my mouth with my hand. "I just threw away a half million dollars!"

The pit in my stomach grew into a chasm. What was I going to do now?

__________

Nothing for three days. Each time I passed my computer, I checked again. Nothing. Nothing at all.

I was able to hold off Mr. Hsu with empty promises and fake flirting, but I knew that wasn't going to last. Soon, he'd either expect to be paid in full, or to "work something out". Unfortunately, I couldn't pay him in full. I would actually need another 3 paychecks to do that, but by then my debt would've grown even larger.

And that was just rent. There was also electricity, my cell phone, my car, my insurance.

Sigh.

I thought about that money constantly. I felt like a part of my stomach had been taken out. It would've been better if I'd never read that email. It wasn't like I really lost a half million dollars, but it sure felt like it.

That fourth night, as I sat on my couch and ate my 5-star meal of Ramen noodles, there was a knock at my door. Hearing that knock was like a gut punch because I just knew Mr. Hsu was on the other side ready to collect. I didn't have any emergency to rush off to. I wasn't late for work. I was here, in my apartment, with no money but plenty of time.

Looking down at my body, I realized that I was only wearing a Nike T-shirt and some very short shorts. To make matters worse, I was braless and could see the indentation of my nipple's rings poking through the thin material.

Fuck. I looked like I was ready for sex. He was going to love this.

I wanted to ignore it, hoping he'd give up and leave. But I knew it was only a matter of time. I had to come to grips with reality. I couldn't hold him off. Whether it was now or later, I had to resolve this. My best bet was to make it quick and get it over with.

With a sad sigh, I put my bowl of noodles down on the coffee table and walked over to my door. I looked through my peephole expecting to see my horny landlord out there, but I didn't. All I saw was an empty hallway.

Confused, I opened the door. Sure enough, there was no one there. However, there was a box right at my feet.

I grabbed it and quickly closed the door behind me making sure to lock it. As I walked back to my couch, I turned the box this way and that to see if there was a label on it. I wasn't expecting any deliveries, so this had to be some sort of mistake. Maybe I'd recognize the name of one of my neighbors and make sure to give it to them.

The only problem was, there was no label. There was no writing on it whatsoever. It was just a plain box.

A quick trip to the kitchen allowed me to grab a knife. Then, I sat down, cut the tape, and opened the flaps. After removing all the bubble wrap, I found three things inside.

A laptop, but one unlike any I'd ever seen. It wasn't a name brand, like Dell or HP. In fact, there was no logo whatsoever indicating a company.

A cell phone. Like the laptop, it wasn't of the name brand variety.

A small white card with gold lettering. There was writing on both sides. On one side, it said: "Welcome to Vixen Life, Annabelle Dunn."

I felt a wave of relief seeing that. I didn't fuck up and blow my chance.

However, seeing my first and last name typed on the card made a shiver creep down my spine. Just like with the video, seeing this personalized for me was a bit disconcerting. Who were these people? How much did they know about me? I knew nothing about them.

Turning it over, I read: "Turn on phone. Then press 0 to speak to Oscar."

Oscar was the one who sent the email. It was probably him speaking in the video too.

When I pressed 0, it rang twice.

"Hello Miss Dunn."

I was right. It was the same voice from the video. It was deep, yet soft. Under any other circumstance, it would've been pleasant and calming. But right now, it was creeping me the hell out.