My past with my roommate

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Last year, I graduated from university with a degree in physical education and wanted to explore the world. A close female friend lived in Shanghai, so I went there alone. Shanghai was indeed a bustling international metropolis. I easily found a job as a bodybuilding instructor at a gym, and then I started thinking about finding a place to live.
One evening after work, I browsed the rental section of a Shanghai online rental platform, aimlessly searching for an apartment. Suddenly, I saw a post about sharing an apartment with someone of the opposite sex. I thought, "I'm a grown man, what's there to be afraid of?" So, I called the number listed. A woman answered; her voice was very sweet. We chatted briefly, and she told me her English name was Jolin. She had just graduated from dance school and lived in Juyuan, Pudong. Her former roommate had moved to France, and renting alone was too expensive. She was used to Pudong, so she wanted to find someone to share an apartment. From her tone, she seemed like a very fashionable and lively girl. We agreed to meet at Babyface the next day…

The following evening at 8:30, I had just finished teaching a group of stationary bikers, showered, and rushed to Maoming South Road by taxi, only to find the bar wasn't open yet. Later, I learned that this bar was a magnet for Shanghai's handsome men and beautiful women, usually opening at 10 pm. Even more people came to see the view, so it was often full. It was the most ruthless bar in Shanghai, turning away countless people every day. One bar had defeated all its rivals on the street. Babyface is a lounge bar with a cool color scheme of red, blue, and yellow, creating a typical New York bar atmosphere. The owner first opened the first Babyface in Guangzhou, and then expanded to Shenzhen and Shanghai. The bar often invites top international DJs to spin records, charging extra for VIP guests.

I called Jolin, but the line was busy. Seeing that I still had some time, I decided to experience Shanghai's nightlife. In fact, many bars were already open. The whole street was filled with music of various rhythms, dim yellow bar lights, and gleaming curved English signs, making the place shine with boundless brilliance. Bars lined up one after another, and to the deafening music, couples of all nationalities were wildly dancing in the small dance floor. On the side streets, foreigners carrying Carlsberg beer bottles were drunkenly communicating with the orioles on the roadside in broken Chinese. A girl was passionately kissing a foreigner at the bar entrance.
Some bars were much simpler in decor, but the music was fantastic. At the intersection of Maoming South Road and Fuxing Road, you could hear deep, rhythmic dance music, but you had to walk all the way down to find rows of outdoor seating areas filled with foreigners at judy'stoo. Men outside were drinking from small bottles, and the small entrance was packed with people. Inside, it was steamy, crowded, and people were dancing wildly.

As I walked, my phone rang. It was Jolin calling. "Where are you? I'm here." Then, she bombarded me with questions about my clothes, hairstyle, and height. Just as I was about to ask about her, Jolin laughed and said, "I'll find you when you come in!" Then she hung up. Turns out, we were going to play a "charm test"! "Okay, let's play! Let's play until we're high!" You see, back in college, I was the school's most famous heartthrob, and I even did a cameo as a male model on the runway.

Back at Babyface, it lived up to its reputation. The previously deserted entrance was now packed with people, all sorts of handsome men and beautiful women moving in and out. The loud music and boisterous voices inside were overwhelming, stimulating every cell in my body.

I squeezed into Babyface's narrow dance floor. I was completely engulfed by the crowd and the music. To be honest, I really enjoyed the Black DJ and the music here; it was incredibly energetic. The dance floor was dimly lit, with only beams of light shooting randomly from the ceiling and the reflections from the various bottles of liquor on the bar, casting a reddish glow on the passionate movements of the women. Two beautiful girls darted about like nimble fish. Their long hair shimmered a deep blue in the darkness, like vibrant flowers in the night—beautiful and alluring. How to put it... the Chinese women, especially the Shanghai women, here aren't necessarily the most conventionally beautiful. But they are all incredibly sexy and love to dance. You can see their sweat, their exaggerated movements, and their comfortable rapport with the foreigners. Dancing is a magical thing; a simple movement, the music starts, the body moves, the two people move in harmony, and it becomes a dynamic and comfortable experience.
I knew a pair of glasses were searching for and watching me, so I didn't hesitate to stick my finger on a girl dancing energetically. Dancing, rhythmic gymnastics, and aerobics are all essentially the same thing, just with different frequencies and amplitudes of movement. To the rhythm of the music, you let every muscle in your body work out to the fullest. In my junior year of college, I even represented my school in the national college aerobics competition. I also enjoy dancing with friends at nightclubs, so naturally, I wouldn't miss this opportunity to show off. After two songs, I could already feel quite a few eyes on me, and the DJ was playing increasingly energetic music. I felt like my movements were leading the DJ's lead. The bar filled up, and the small dance floor was soon packed. After my initial excitement subsided, I went to the bar, ordered a soft drink, and waited for Jolin to appear. In less than fifteen minutes, I was already getting glances from several girls, and two even casually walked past me with cigarettes in their mouths: "Hey handsome, all alone?" Babyface really is a paradise for nightlife enthusiasts. I glanced at my watch; it was just 11 pm, and everyone around me was still engrossed in enjoying themselves.

"Leon, you dance pretty well!" Someone called my name from behind. Without turning around, I knew it was Jolin from the voice…

"Sorry, we met here for our first meeting," Jolin said, fanning herself as she stood next to me. "Do you like going to bars?" "You should have said so earlier if you didn't like it. I don't want to live with an old-fashioned person, but you don't seem old-fashioned."

To be honest, I didn't dare to look Jolin in the eye, because she was dressed so sexily. She wore a black, tight-fitting, cropped tank top with a deep V-neck, a silver necklace, and a jade pendant that rested perfectly on her fair and deep cleavage, rising and falling with her rapid breathing. And since I'm a head taller than her, I had to look down to talk to her. Looking down, I basically had a panoramic view, especially the lace trim of her black bra peeking out from under the tank top, which sculpted her flawless breasts, making my blood boil.
Noticing my awkwardness, Jolin chuckled and exclaimed, "You're so old-fashioned!" But then, realizing it was too noisy around us and I probably couldn't hear her, she gestured for me to follow her.

"Ugh, it's so noisy here! But I still prefer the atmosphere!" Jolin sat down at a small table. "This is…, that is…, and she is…" Before I could even sit down, Jolin launched into a rapid-fire introduction of her tablemates, but I couldn't hear a word, so I could only nod nervously.

Once seated, I realized the table was full of beautiful women, including Jolin. They all had oval faces and incredibly good figures. As for their clothing, I could only be certain of one thing: Jolin was definitely not the most revealing or sexy.

"What's wrong? Staring at the beauties and you're stunned? You big dummy, they're all my classmates. Let's play 789 for a while. Do you know how to play? If not, I'll teach you. The loser drinks, chivas and green tea. Don't worry, you won't get drunk!"

Among a group of unfamiliar beauties, I swayed to the music, rolling dice. Alcohol is a good thing. When a bottle of chivas was empty, I felt like we had become one. Although I didn't know the names of the women I was dancing with, the women whose bodies were pressed tightly against mine, or even the women who kissed my cheek, I could feel their heartbeats through their chests, touch their slender waists, and experience the strange sensation of their plump buttocks rubbing against my body. It was an atmosphere that slowly built up your desire. Although the dim lighting and the frenetic rhythm could mask many things, if you didn't have any thoughts at that moment, you weren't a real man.

Around 1:30 a.m., Jolin said let's break up, so we settled the bill, splitting it equally.
At the bar entrance, Jolin hailed a taxi and turned to me, saying she'd give me an answer this week.

A week passed quickly, and I received a text from Jolin on the last day. She listed three requirements in the message, saying that if I had no problems, we could share the apartment.

First, I couldn't frequently bring friends, including my girlfriend, home overnight. I thought this was fine, because my girlfriend from university had broken up with me after graduation, and I basically had no relatives or friends in Shanghai, except for one close female friend—but that was just a friend; she had a boyfriend, and there was no possibility of anything between us.

Second, all shared expenses would be split equally, and I couldn't interfere in her life. Of course, that was true, otherwise it would be cohabitation.

Third, I had to promise to do my laundry every day and not let smelly clothes pollute the environment. I knew this request was difficult to agree to because I only did my laundry once a week during university. However, I felt I would regret giving up the opportunity to share an apartment with Jolin, so I texted her saying that the first two requests were no problem at all, but I promised to wash my clothes every two days.

But the moment I sent the message, I had a slight regret, worried that she might be angry. After two hours of anxious waiting, she replied with just one sentence: "If it doesn't smell, it's okay; if it smells, it's not." Thank goodness, I immediately texted back, promising to do as she said.

After a few more texts, she sent me her address and arranged to come to her place that evening to check out the apartment, asking me to bring my ID and a copy.

It was indeed much better than where I was temporarily staying. After explaining my purpose to the security guard at the gate, I arrived at her door smoothly and rang the doorbell.
Jolin opened the door, and there was another girl sitting inside. I vaguely recognized her as the one I had seen at the bar that night. Jolin smiled and said that since it was the first time we were meeting at her home that night, she had brought a female companion. I said I didn't mind.

However, seeing Jolin under such bright lights was completely different from that day. Today, Jolin was basically without makeup, her high nose bridge and short, ear-length hair making her look exceptionally delicate. The most significant change was her clothing; she was wearing a round-neck casual t-shirt with a Jimmy Liao comic printed on the chest, and jeans that were slightly ripped with a few holes. What should have given off a disheveled vibe actually looked unexpectedly cute on her. When she noticed me staring at her, she blushed slightly and said, "Hurry up and change your shoes before coming inside, don't let the mosquitoes in!"

Only then did I realize my lapse in manners, smiled, changed into slippers, and went into the living room. However, her fleeting blush piqued my curiosity. What kind of person was Jolin? The wildness of the bar, the quiet elegance of this moment—was she really the same person?

The apartment had two bedrooms, a living room, and a bathroom. The living room walls were predominantly yellow with touches of orange-red. The bedrooms all had wallpaper. Jolin's room faced south with pink wallpaper, while the other empty room faced southeast with floral light blue wallpaper. The bedrooms were fully furnished, with a slightly retro style. There was air conditioning, and it was quite new. Jolin's room had a laptop, which I assumed was hers.

The bathroom, with its beige antique-style tiles and fabric, offers a refreshing change from the predominantly white decor, creating a unique ambiance. A white bathtub sits beside a small shower stall, and the entire space is impeccably clean. The kitchen isn't large, but a small square table, the kind for two, is cleverly placed in the space. Under the warm yellow light, it exudes a cozy atmosphere, instantly reminding me of meals I'd share with Jolin. In the living room, a 34-inch Sony television sits in the center, alongside a stereo and DVD player. Facing the television is a light-colored sofa with a minimalist IKEA style, but the cushions are unusually heavy, as the girl sitting on it practically sinks into them. There were plenty of snacks on the coffee table, along with two half-empty cups of green tea.
"Okay, all done looking around? How was it?" Jolin jumped onto the sofa and asked me.

"That was great! But a place like this must be expensive, right?" I asked tentatively, wondering if I could afford it.

"It's alright, I know the landlord well, so it's only 4800 yuan a month!" "

Oh," I almost fainted. No wonder she kept making excuses when I asked about the rent on the phone; it really wasn't cheap. I did the math in my head. My current monthly salary is 3800 yuan, and with groceries, it'll be about 1000 yuan a month. But there's no guarantee. If I deduct 2400 yuan, plus expenses like food, utilities, gas, and phone bills, there really won't be much left. To rent or not to rent, that is the question!

But a man's gotta act now, there's no turning back. So I pretended to be calm and said, "Okay, how about I move tomorrow?"

Jolin nodded and asked with concern, "Do you need any help?"

I thought for a moment, nodded vigorously, and said, "I think I'll be very thirsty after moving tomorrow, so I'd like a cup of green tea!" "

Oh dear, I forgot, I forgot!" Jolin stuck out her tongue, quickly went to make tea, and then poked her head out of the kitchen: "If you don't speak your mind, you'll become mute sooner or later!"

After returning from Jolin's house, I told my roommate what I had to do and started packing. Actually, there wasn't much, just a large travel bag with clothes and such. The next day after work, I ate rice noodles at a food stall near the company and then took a taxi to Jolin's house—oh, no, it was also my first home in Shanghai.

I didn't ask Jolin for help; I just put the clothes in the closet. Jolin was very thoughtful; she had sun-dried my blankets during the day to remove the musty smell and wiped the mats with a towel. Enough of the small talk. Around 11 o'clock, we were basically done cleaning up. Jolin had been watching TV in the living room the whole time, occasionally popping in to check on us.
I looked down and, sure enough, there was some white grime on the shower tray, and some hair in the drain hole. I turned on the tap and rinsed it off with my hands.

While cleaning the shower, I glanced at Jolin; she clearly looked unhappy. Since I was squatting, I was very close to her legs. Her calves were beautifully shaped, and her toes weren't calloused. She had a silver anklet on one of her ankles.

About three minutes later, I finished work and apologized to Jolin with a embarrassed expression. Jolin just nodded coldly and said, "I'm going to take a shower. You can leave now." Hearing the door slam shut behind me, I felt a surge of resentment. Why was she throwing a tantrum? But ultimately, it was my fault, so I let it go.

I couldn't sleep for the time being, so I sat on the sofa, turned on the TV, turned the volume down, and aimlessly watched some music, while waiting for Jolin, because I really wanted to know if she would feel better after her shower.

About 15 minutes later, Jolin came out wearing a long crew neck shirt. Although the living room was dimly lit, the light coming through the bathroom doorway shone directly on her, making it immediately clear to me from the front that she was definitely not wearing a bra. She looked surprised, but before she could speak, I immediately said, "Jolin, I'm really sorry about today. I usually shower at the company, so I forgot to clean the shower room today. Can you forgive me?"

Jolin smiled and said, "Am I that petty?"

Lying in bed, I kept replaying Jolin's barely visible body in my mind. Although I couldn't see it clearly, it filled me with fantasies, and I even started to imagine her clothes becoming more and more transparent. Sigh, men!

Because I went to bed late last night, I couldn't get up in the morning. When the countdown started, I hurriedly ran into the bathroom in a daze, washed up quickly, and didn't eat breakfast. I left home at about 8:30. Jolin didn't seem to be up yet, but who knows, her bedroom door was tightly closed.

As I was leaving my room, a question suddenly occurred to me: should I lock the door? If Jolin was home, it wouldn't matter, but if no one was home, wouldn't that be unsafe?

Thinking this, I reluctantly took out my key, went back in, and mustered the courage to knock on Jolin's door.

Jolin opened the door sleepily. She was wearing a semi-transparent light blue silk lace nightgown—or rather, 75% transparent. Her breasts were clearly visible, including her pink nipples and the surrounding halos.

"What?" she asked, completely unaware of her exposed skin.

"I'm going to work. I thought I'd locked the door if you weren't home, so I came to check." "

Oh, bye-bye!" "..." She nodded and closed the door.

Needless to say, everyone knows that on the subway to the company, I was thinking about Jolin the whole time. Haha, am I falling for her, or is it because of other thoughts?

I'm not a virgin. Back in high school, I had sex with a close female classmate. As for college, while I wasn't exactly promiscuous, I did have a few girlfriends. Of course, I'm not the irresponsible type to play with feelings. I just feel that a lover is someone who shares a journey of love on life's path. When love fades, people drift apart. As for sex, it's something that happens naturally, not something forced. But Jolin gave me a different feeling. I couldn't help but admit to myself that I had desire for her.

However, in the following days, I noticed that Jolin didn't seem to be at work. One time, I forgot my phone but wasn't sure if I'd taken it out and lost it, so I tentatively called home. Jolin answered and found my phone, which was still off, on the sofa.

This made me wonder how Jolin made a living, considering the large rent she had to pay, and how she liked going to bars.

I didn't dare ask Jolin because we'd agreed not to interfere, so I kept the question to myself.

That's how my life as a roommate with Jolin began. There was nothing mysterious about it. Perhaps everyone is full of anticipation and longing before starting such a life, even fantasizing, but once it starts, it's just a gradual process of getting used to each other's habits.

Jolin is a very easy girl to get along with. At least she doesn't have the petty and dramatic qualities I had initially worried about in Shanghai girls, and she's also very generous. Sometimes she'll go to the market to buy some groceries and then send me a text message saying she's feeding the pigs that night and that I shouldn't eat any other feed. I'll quickly reply, asking what the imperial kitchen has for dinner. To be honest, she's a pretty good cook, but she eats very little herself to maintain her figure. She seems to enjoy watching me eat. Sometimes, if there's even a little bit left uneaten, she'll pretend to be stern, saying the zookeeper is angry and the consequences will be severe, and I have no choice but to pretend to wolf down the rest of the food. I

haven't spent much time with Jolin, but I already feel like the clock at the company is ticking very slowly. Every day, from the moment I leave the house, I'm always looking forward to getting off work. Once I finally do, I rush home. Why is all this? I often ask myself this in the elevator, then give myself an excuse unrelated to Jolin, take out my keys, and open the door. Friday night, Jolin received a call, sounding quite happy, and asked if I was free the next day. I said it was the weekend, of course I was free.

Jolin smiled and said, "Then will you spend the whole day with me tomorrow? Say yes!"

I nodded: "But can you tell me what we're going to do first? We're not going to go shopping all day, are we?" "

No!" Jolin said mischievously, "Definitely not, so you've already said yes!" "

Okay, okay!" I thought to myself, "I have nothing else to do anyway, might as well just relax." "

Then let's leave at 4 a.m., I'll wake you up at 3:30, no backing out, okay? Shower and sleep!" Jolin cheered and darted into the bathroom, leaving me alone on the sofa, blankly calculating how many more hours I could sleep.

At 3:30, Jolin indeed knocked on the door and woke me up. When I opened my sleepy eyes and reached for the bathroom, I found she was already all ready to go. Around 4 a.m., the doorbell rang. It was the girl I'd seen at the roommate interview, Jolin's jerk, Shine.

"You're going too, Leon?" Shine tilted her head, looked at me, and winked at Jolin.

I took a taxi towards Longhua Airport. On the way, Jolin explained what had happened. Apparently, after graduating, Jolin had been working as a model. Because she's only 172cm tall, her height wasn't ideal for runway modeling, so she usually did print modeling for clothing brands. However, due to her lack of fame, she generally only did short shoots. This job was with Shine, and they needed two girls, so Jolin went too.

The brand was a young women's clothing brand with a rather avant-garde and sexy concept. They chose Longhua Airport because some of the outdoor locations there were cool, with dilapidated concrete structures that would complement the clothing's edgy feel. Also, the photographer wanted to shoot some sunrise shots, as sunrise represents the new generation.

When we arrived at the scene, most of their staff were already there. The photographer, a cultured-looking young man with long hair, knew Shine, so he greeted us as soon as we arrived: "Shine, you've got a lot of work to do today, probably shooting until tonight. Hang in there, ladies!"

Shine turned to look at me and replied, "Don't worry, we even brought some fans to cheer us on!"

"Also, did you tell Jolin that most of the outfits today won't be worn with bras?" the photographer said, fiddling with his camera.

"Okay, all set, don't worry."

No bras? My still-dazed mind suddenly cleared. That meant I was in for a treat! Later, Jolin told me that many clothing designers don't want the outline of a bra to be visible on the garment, ruining its lines. Therefore, they often require models to go braless. This is similar to the situation on the runway. Moreover, that brand is avant-garde and sexy, especially tight-fitting clothes with very low necklines. So, except for some clothes that need to be decorated with bra lace or bra straps, most of the clothes require models to go braless and wear thongs.

"Aren't you afraid of flashing on stage?" I asked Jolin curiously. Jolin sighed, "Sigh, as a model, your body isn't your own. Besides, you haven't been backstage at a runway. There are many male designers present, and you still take your clothes off and put them back on, don't you?" "

But we usually use breast petals to ward off wolves, like you, hehe!" "Look, that's the dressing room/makeup room, get ready to start," a woman in her thirties came in, pointed to a makeshift tent made of plastic sheeting in a corner, then looked at me and asked Shine who I was.

"Oh, she's my manager," Jolin answered quickly. The woman looked at Jolin, then at Shine, and said, "I thought you were one of Shine's people," she waved her hand, "okay, hurry up!" "That's the brand manager,

we negotiated this deal with her, she's very stingy, hmph!" Shine said to me in a low voice the whole way.

"Oh, I brought the contract. You can sign it during the lunch break!" the woman called out from behind, then caught up and shoved the contract into my hand. "You're the agent, take a look first!"

There was a bit of wind at the scene, and the plastic sheeting was flapping loudly. I stood guard at the door while they changed clothes and put on makeup inside, giving off a bit of a chivalrous vibe.

As for the contract, I pretended to look at it, but I really didn't understand anything about it. It was just a bunch of "don'ts," "musts," and "otherwise," etc. Sigh, it was a tough job!

Watching them take photos was enjoyable at first, but then it became torture. First of all, please don't imagine you're seeing any wardrobe malfunctions or anything like that. The clothes are indeed very sexy, but they are ready-to-wear, not fashion. Ready-to-wear is meant to be worn on the street, so what you actually see on set at the end is their cleavage showing when they bend over. Secondly, please don't imagine that the photoshoot process is like what you see on TV with flashing cameras and models constantly changing sexy poses. It's not like that at all. Every pose is guided by the photographer. After the poses are taken, the lighting technician walks around with a reflector to measure and adjust the light. Only when it's about right is the shot taken. I calculated that it took about 2 to 3 minutes to complete one shot, because sometimes the same pose would be shot five or six times.

Jolin later told me that it was fortunate that the brand didn't require them to smile; they just needed to put on an indifferent expression, otherwise their facial muscles would have cramped up!

Moreover, as the sun rose higher and the weather started to get hotter, everyone started to sweat a little, and Jolin and Shine had more and more time to touch up their makeup. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to sweat and not be able to drink water? Jolin and Shine didn't drink much water all day because their waists are very slim and they don't have any excess fat. If they drank too much water, their lower abdomens would bulge out, which would make their clothes look much worse, especially for some outfits that show their midriffs, making it impossible to shoot. Of course, they could only eat a small lunch as well. In Shine's words, "Just being able to get back alive is a victory!"

The shoot basically ended around 8 or 9 pm. I roughly calculated that we probably shot about 20 or 30 outfits. That's amazing. Finally, there was a group photo. All the staff involved in the shoot gathered together, and everyone surrounded the brand manager, saying "cheese" to him. Sigh, what can you do when he's the bread and butter?

When we were settling the bill, Jolin asked me to be there too. It seemed like Jolin and Shine each received 5000 yuan for a day's work. On the way back, Jolin told me that a typical photoshoot costs 2000-3000 yuan, while those without underwear are more expensive, around 5000-6000 yuan. Award-winning models can earn close to 10,000 yuan, and models going abroad can easily earn tens of thousands. However, most models are contracted with modeling agencies. These freelance models, who prefer a more independent lifestyle, are often called "wild models," but their income is very unstable. Because they have dance training, they are often better able to handle photoshoots that require expression or performance than professional models. Plus, they are familiar with the people, so they usually have two to three work opportunities per month.

"And don't think this 5,000 yuan is easy money. Do the math, we shot over twenty outfits, about ten photos of each, averaging tens of yuan per photo," Shine added. "But you know, the brand manager will actually only use about 50 photos, maybe 20 or 30. So they'll think it's expensive. The two sides have different perspectives, so it's hard to negotiate.

" "Sigh, never mind, let's go to a bar to celebrate," Shine suggested. "You come too," Shine said to the photographer. Jolin told me that the last time at Babyface was also a post-work party.

After the photographer packed up the equipment and handed it over to the other staff, the four of us ate something and then went to SOHO in Xintiandi.

The photographer's name is Parker. He's the one who took care of this job, so we're going to treat him, Jolin secretly told me. Parker is quite well-known in the photography world and knows many clothing brand managers, so he sometimes recommends models for photoshoots. However, he doesn't take a commission because he's rather promiscuous and has some ambiguous relationships with many models.

The music started, and Jolin and I drank some wine and then started dancing. But Soho is too small, so we couldn't really let loose. We danced around the table, sometimes taking a small sip of our drinks while dancing, feeling quite intoxicated. Shine and Parker were dancing not far from us, a fast-paced, slow-paced dance. Parker stood behind Shine, his arms around her waist, while Shine raised her arms and pressed her hips tightly against Parker's, slowly swaying her body.

Jolin and I were facing each other. When Jolin saw me looking at Shine and Parker, she stood on tiptoe and brought her head close to mine, saying, "Let's dance that kind too!" Then she turned around, grabbed my hand, and placed it on her waist.

Our seats were near the restrooms, so towards the end, a large group of girls lined up in front of our table to use the restroom—quite a sight! Because there was only one men's and one women's restroom, the men were really unlucky. For example, while I was washing my hands, the door behind me was pushed open, and a girl rushed in, glanced at me, and then went to stall number one next to her. She didn't even bother to lock the door, and I could hear the splashing of water. But the people there weren't surprised. When I washed my hands at the door, the girl came out and nodded to me. Jolin had only been wriggling for a moment when I immediately felt a burning sensation rising from my groin to my head. The effects of the alcohol were amplified dramatically, and I couldn't help but look down at Jolin's pink neck and ears, listening to her soft moans. However, mixed with the noisy music, it wasn't very real; perhaps it was just my imagination.

At 1:30, we left the bar. It closed at 2:00, but transportation would be scarce then, so we left half an hour early.

Shine and Parker shared a car. Parker offered to take Shine home, but even a fool could guess what was going to happen between them. I pretended not to know and asked Jolin. Jolin laughed and told me that if I didn't know this, I'd wasted my time at the bar. Hehe, did Jolin see through my ulterior motives?

"But how can you know who needs whom?" Jolin said quietly as we were getting out of the car.

That night, nothing happened between us. Although I was really looking forward to it, I didn't dare say anything. After getting home, I showered, said goodnight, closed the door, and went to sleep.

Everything was as ordinary as ever, except I couldn't fall asleep. I kept replaying the fiery feeling from the bar in my mind. Was she teasing me, or was it just a dance?

Jolin, what are you thinking about right now? Will you dream about me? How do you feel about me? I drifted off to sleep, feeling uneasy. I

've been sharing an apartment with Jolin for almost a month now. If you're asking if anything romantic has happened, I think you'll be disappointed. I have indeed gone from liking Jolin to infatuation, but I'm unsure of her feelings for me, and I'm even more afraid of losing such a wonderful roommate if I open my mouth. Deep down, I'm even more conflicted. Although Jolin is sexier and prettier than my previous girlfriends, I'm not bad-looking either, so we were always the ones who took the initiative before. Now, I feel a bit hesitant to make the first move. Also, while Jolin's spending isn't high, my current salary barely covers rent and I'm afraid Jolin will look down on me.

Jolin's behavior in this regard is also strange. Sometimes she's so affectionate that it makes me fantasize, as if I could easily pin her down on the bed, while other times she's as calm as still water, just saying goodnight.

Sigh, let's not talk about this anymore; it's too troubling, like the troubles of young Werther.

However, how Jolin truly feels about me now—that secret will be revealed later. I'll leave it at that for now.

Last year, I graduated from the Department of Physical Education in university and wanted to explore the world. I had a close female friend in Shanghai, so I went to Shanghai alone. As expected of a bustling international metropolis, Shanghai was a great place to start. I easily found a job as a bodybuilding coach at a fitness club and then started thinking about how to make ends meet.
One evening after work, I browsed the rental section of a Shanghai hotline, aimlessly searching for an apartment. Suddenly, I saw a post about sharing an apartment with someone of the opposite sex. I thought, "I'm a grown man, what's there to be afraid of?" So, I called the number listed. A woman answered, her voice very sweet. We chatted briefly, and she told me her English name was Jolin, that she had just graduated from dance school, and that she lived in Juyuan, Pudong. Her ex-girlfriend had moved to France, and renting alone was too expensive. She was used to Pudong, so she wanted to find someone to share an apartment with. From her tone, she seemed like a very fashionable and lively girl. We agreed to meet at Babyface the next day…

The following evening at 8:30, I had just finished teaching a group of stationary bikers, showered, and rushed to Maoming South Road by taxi, only to find that the bar wasn't open yet. Later I learned that this bar is a magnet for handsome men and beautiful women in Shanghai. It usually doesn't open until 10 pm, and even more people come to see the view, so it's often full. It's the most ruthless bar in Shanghai, turning away countless people every day. One bar defeats all rivals on the street. Babyface is a lounge bar, with cool red, blue, and yellow tones creating a typical New York bar atmosphere. The owner first opened the first Babyface in Guangzhou, and then expanded to Shenzhen and Shanghai. The bar often invites top international DJs to spin records, charging extra for VIP guests.

I called Jolin, but it was busy. Seeing that it was still early, I decided to experience the Shanghai nightlife scene first. Actually, quite a few bars were already open. The entire street shimmered with vibrant colors, thanks to the music of various rhythms, the dim yellow lights of the bars, and the gleaming, curved English signs. Bars lined up one after another, and to the deafening beat of music, couples of all nationalities danced wildly and hysterically in their small dance floors. Meanwhile, on the side street, foreigners, carrying Carlsberg beer bottles, drunkenly spoke broken Chinese to the stray birds on the roadside. A girl was passionately kissing a foreigner at a bar entrance.
Some bars were much simpler in decor, but the music was fantastic. Reaching the intersection of Maoming South Road and Fuxing Road, you can hear deep, rhythmic dance music. But you have to keep walking down to the very end to find rows of outdoor seating areas, filled with foreigners at judy'stoo. Men outside are drinking from small bottles, and the small entrance is packed with people. Inside, it's steamy, crowded, and people are dancing wildly.

As I walked, my phone rang. It was Jolin. "Where are you? I'm here!" she asked, then bombarded me with questions about my clothes, hairstyle, and height. Just as I was about to ask her about mine, Jolin laughed and said, "I'll find you when you come in!" Then she hung up. Turns out, it was a "charm test"! "Okay, let's play! Let's play until we're high!" You know, back in college, I was the school's most famous heartthrob, and I even did a cameo as a male model on the runway.

Back at Babyface, it lived up to its reputation. The previously deserted entrance was now packed with people, all sorts of handsome men and beautiful women moving in and out. The loud music and boisterous chatter from inside were overwhelming, stimulating every cell in my body.

I squeezed into Babyface's narrow dance floor. I was completely engulfed by the crowd and the music. To be honest, I really liked the black DJ and the music here; it was incredibly high-energy. The dance floor was dimly lit, with only beams of light shining randomly from the ceiling and the light reflecting off the various reddish liquors on the bar, illuminating the passionate writhing of the sexy figures. Two beautiful girls darted about like two agile fish. Their long hair shimmered a deep blue in the darkness, like delicate flowers in the night, beautiful and alluring. How to put it... the Chinese women here, the Shanghai women, aren't necessarily the most beautiful. But they are all very sexy and love to dance. You can see their sweat, their exaggerated dance moves, and their familiar demeanor with foreigners. Dancing is a wonderful thing; a simple movement, the music starts, the body moves, the two move in harmony, and it's so dynamic and comfortable.
I knew a pair of glasses was searching and watching, so I didn't hesitate to focus on a girl dancing energetically. Dancing, rhythmic gymnastics, and aerobics are all the same principle, just with different frequencies and amplitudes of movement. To the rhythm of the music, you let every muscle in your body move to its fullest. During my junior year of college, I represented my school in the national college aerobics competition. I also enjoyed dancing with friends at nightclubs, so naturally, I wouldn't miss this opportunity to show off. After two songs, I could already feel the attention around me, and the DJ kept playing increasingly energetic music; I felt like my movements were leading the DJ. The bar filled up, and the small dance floor quickly became packed. After a high point, I went to the bar, ordered a soft drink, and waited for Jolin to appear. In less than fifteen minutes, I was struck by the gazes of several girls, and two even walked past me, seemingly casually smoking cigarettes: "Hey handsome, all alone?" Babyface truly is a paradise for nightlife enthusiasts. I glanced at my watch; it was just 11 o'clock. The people around me were still lost in their own world.

"Leon, you dance pretty well!" someone called my name from behind. Without turning around, I knew it was Jolin from the voice…

"Sorry, we met here for the first time," Jolin said, fanning herself as she stood next to me. "Do you like going to bars? If you don't, just say so. I don't want to live with a country bumpkin, but you don't seem like one."

Honestly, I didn't dare look Jolin in the eye. She was dressed so sexily—a black, tight-fitting, cropped tank top with a deep V-neck, a silver necklace with a jade pendant that rested perfectly on her white, deep cleavage, rising and falling with her rapid breathing. I was a full head taller than her, so to talk to her I had to look down, which gave me a completely unobstructed view of her. The lace trim of her black bra peeking out from under her tank top accentuated her flawless breasts, making my blood boil.
Noticing my discomfort, Jolin chuckled and exclaimed, "You're so old-fashioned!" But then, realizing it was too noisy and I probably couldn't hear her, she gestured for me to follow her.

"Ugh, it's so noisy here! But I still prefer the atmosphere!" Jolin sat down at a small table. "This is..., that is..., and she is..." Before I could even sit down, Jolin launched into a rapid-fire introduction of her deskmates, like reciting a diary. Unfortunately, I couldn't hear a word, so I just nodded politely.

Once seated, I realized the whole table was full of beautiful women, including Jolin. They all had oval faces and amazing figures. As for their clothes, I could only say one thing: Jolin wasn't the most revealing.

What's wrong? Stunned by all the beauties? You big dummy, they're all my classmates. Let's play 789 for a bit. Do you know how? If not, I'll teach you. The loser drinks—chivas and green tea. Don't worry, you won't get drunk! Surrounded by a group of unfamiliar beauties, I swayed to the music, rolling dice. Alcohol is a good thing; by the time a bottle of Chivas was empty, I felt we had become one. Although

I didn't know the names of the women dancing with me, pressing their bodies against mine, or even kissing my cheek, I could feel their heartbeats through their chests, touch their slender waists, and experience the strange sensation of their full hips rubbing against my skin. It was an atmosphere that slowly fueled my desire. Although the dim lighting and the frenetic rhythm could mask much, at that moment, if you didn't have thoughts, you weren't a man.

Around 1:30 AM, Jolin said we should break up, so we paid the bill and split it.
At the bar entrance, Jolin hailed a taxi, then turned to me and said she'd give me an answer this week.

A week passed quickly, and I received a text message from Jolin on the last day. In the message, she made three requests, saying that if I had no problems, we could share the apartment.

First, I can't frequently bring friends, including my girlfriend, home for the night. I think this is fine because my girlfriend from university broke up with me after graduation, and I basically have no relatives or friends in Shanghai, except for one close female friend. However, she's just a friend; she has a boyfriend, and there's no possibility of anything between us.

Second, all expenses are split equally, and I'm not allowed to interfere in her life. Of course, that's true, otherwise it's considered cohabitation.

Third, I must promise to do my laundry every day and not let smelly clothes pollute the environment. I think this requirement is indeed difficult for me to agree to because I only did my laundry once a week during university. However, I feel I would regret giving up the opportunity to share an apartment with Jolin because of this, so I replied with a text message saying that the first two requirements are no problem at all, but I promise to do my laundry every two days.

But the moment I sent the text message, I had a vague regret, worried that she might be angry. After two hours of anxious anticipation, she replied with just one sentence: "If it doesn't smell bad, it's fine; if it smells bad, it's not." Thank goodness, I immediately replied, promising to comply.

After a few more text messages, she sent me her address and arranged to visit her house that evening, asking me to bring my ID and a copy.

It was indeed much better than my current temporary accommodation. After explaining my purpose to the security guard at the door, I arrived at her door smoothly and rang the doorbell.
Jolin opened the door, and there was another girl sitting inside, whom I vaguely recognized as the one I had seen at the bar that night. Jolin smiled and said that since it was our first time meeting at home in the evening, she had invited a female companion, and I said I didn't mind.

However, seeing Jolin under such bright lights, she did look completely different from that day. Today, Jolin was basically without makeup, and her high nose bridge and short, ear-length hair made her look exceptionally delicate. The most significant change was her clothing; she was wearing a round-neck casual t-shirt with a Jimmy Liao comic on the chest, and jeans that were slightly ripped with a few holes. What should have given off a disheveled vibe actually looked unexpectedly cute on her. When she noticed me staring at her, she blushed a little and said, "Hurry up and change your shoes before coming inside, so the mosquitoes don't get in!"

Only then did I realize my lapse in manners, smiled, changed into slippers, and went into the living room. However, her fleeting blush piqued my curiosity. What kind of person was Jolin? The wildness of the bar, the quiet elegance of this moment—was she really the same person?

The apartment had two bedrooms, a living room, and a bathroom. The living room walls were predominantly yellow with touches of orange-red. The bedrooms all had wallpaper. Jolin's room faced south with pink wallpaper, while the other empty room faced southeast with floral light blue wallpaper. The bedrooms were fully furnished, with a slightly retro style. There was air conditioning, and it was quite new. Jolin's room had a laptop, which I assumed was hers.

The bathroom, with its beige antique-style tiles and fabric, offers a refreshing change from the predominantly white decor, creating a unique ambiance. A white bathtub sits beside a small shower stall, and the entire space is impeccably clean. The kitchen isn't large, but a small square table, the kind for two, is cleverly placed in the space. Under the warm yellow light, it exudes a cozy atmosphere, instantly reminding me of meals I'd share with Jolin. In the living room, a 34-inch Sony television sits in the center, alongside a stereo and DVD player. Facing the television is a light-colored sofa with a minimalist IKEA style, but the cushions are unusually heavy, as the girl sitting on it practically sinks into them. There were plenty of snacks on the coffee table, along with two half-empty cups of green tea.
"Okay, all done looking around? How was it?" Jolin jumped onto the sofa and asked me.

"That was great! But a place like this must be expensive, right?" I asked tentatively, wondering if I could afford it.

"It's alright, I know the landlord well, so it's only 4800 yuan a month!" "

Oh," I almost fainted. No wonder she kept making excuses when I asked about the rent on the phone; it really wasn't cheap. I did the math in my head. My current monthly salary is 3800 yuan, and with groceries, it'll be about 1000 yuan a month. But there's no guarantee. If I deduct 2400 yuan, plus expenses like food, utilities, gas, and phone bills, there really won't be much left. To rent or not to rent, that is the question!

But a man's gotta act now, there's no turning back. So I pretended to be calm and said, "Okay, how about I move tomorrow?"

Jolin nodded and asked with concern, "Do you need any help?"

I thought for a moment, nodded vigorously, and said, "I think I'll be very thirsty after moving tomorrow, so I'd like a cup of green tea!" "

Oh dear, I forgot, I forgot!" Jolin stuck out her tongue, quickly went to make tea, and then poked her head out of the kitchen: "If you don't speak your mind, you'll become mute sooner or later!"

After returning from Jolin's house, I told my roommate what I had to do and started packing. Actually, there wasn't much, just a large travel bag with clothes and such. The next day after work, I ate rice noodles at a food stall near the company and then took a taxi to Jolin's house—oh, no, it was also my first home in Shanghai.

I didn't ask Jolin for help; I just put the clothes in the closet. Jolin was very thoughtful; she had sun-dried my blankets during the day to remove the musty smell and wiped the mats with a towel. Enough of the small talk. Around 11 o'clock, we were basically done cleaning up. Jolin had been watching TV in the living room the whole time, occasionally popping in to check on us.
I looked down and, sure enough, there was some white grime on the shower tray, and some hair in the drain hole. I turned on the tap and rinsed it off with my hands.

While cleaning the shower, I glanced at Jolin; she clearly looked unhappy. Since I was squatting, I was very close to her legs. Her calves were beautifully shaped, and her toes weren't calloused. She had a silver anklet on one of her ankles.

About three minutes later, I finished work and apologized to Jolin with a embarrassed expression. Jolin just nodded coldly and said, "I'm going to take a shower. You can leave now." Hearing the door slam shut behind me, I felt a surge of resentment. Why was she throwing a tantrum? But ultimately, it was my fault, so I let it go.

I couldn't sleep for the time being, so I sat on the sofa, turned on the TV, turned the volume down, and aimlessly watched some music, while waiting for Jolin, because I really wanted to know if she would feel better after her shower.

About 15 minutes later, Jolin came out wearing a long crew neck shirt. Although the living room was dimly lit, the light coming through the bathroom doorway shone directly on her, making it immediately clear to me from the front that she was definitely not wearing a bra. She looked surprised, but before she could speak, I immediately said, "Jolin, I'm really sorry about today. I usually shower at the company, so I forgot to clean the shower room today. Can you forgive me?"

Jolin smiled and said, "Am I that petty?"

Lying in bed, I kept replaying Jolin's barely visible body in my mind. Although I couldn't see it clearly, it filled me with fantasies, and I even started to imagine her clothes becoming more and more transparent. Sigh, men!

Because I went to bed late, I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. When the countdown started, I hurriedly and absentmindedly ran into the bathroom, quickly washed up, and skipped breakfast. I left home around 8:30. Jolin didn't seem to be up yet, but who knows, her bedroom door was tightly closed.

As I was leaving my room, a question suddenly occurred to me: should I lock the door? If Jolin was home, it wouldn't matter, but if no one was home, wouldn't that be unsafe?

With that thought, I had to take out my key, go back in, and muster the courage to knock on Jolin's door.

Jolin opened the door, still half-asleep. She was wearing a semi-transparent light blue silk lace nightgown—or rather, 75% transparent. Her breasts were clearly visible, including her pink nipples and the surrounding areolas.

"What?" she asked, completely unaware of her exposed skin. "I

'm going to work. I was worried I'd lock the door if you weren't there, so I came to check." "

Oh, bye-bye!" she nodded and closed the door.

Needless to say, everyone knows that on the subway to the company, I couldn't stop thinking about Jolin. Haha, am I starting to fall for her, or is it something else?

I'm not a virgin. Back in high school, I had sex with a close female classmate. In college, while I wasn't exactly promiscuous, I had at least a few girlfriends. Of course, I wasn't the irresponsible type to play with feelings; I just felt that a lover was someone you shared a journey of love with on life's path. If the love faded, the relationship would end. As for sex, that was something that happened naturally, not something forced. But Jolin felt different. I couldn't help but admit to myself that I had desire for her.

However, in the following days, I noticed Jolin hadn't been to work. One time, I forgot my phone, but wasn't sure if I'd lost it, so I tentatively called home. Jolin answered and found my phone, which was still off, on the sofa.

So a big question arose in my mind: how exactly did Jolin make a living, considering the large rent she had to pay, and the fact that she liked going to bars?

I didn't dare ask Jolin, because we had agreed not to interfere with each other, so I kept the question to myself.

And so began my life as a roommate with Jolin. There was nothing mysterious about it. Perhaps everyone is full of anticipation and longing before starting such a life, even fantasizing, but once it begins, it's just a gradual process of getting used to each other's habits.

Jolin was a very easy girl to get along with; at least she didn't have the pettiness and fussiness I had initially worried about in Shanghai girls, and she was also very generous. Sometimes she'd go to the market to buy some groceries and then text me saying she was feeding the pigs that evening and told me not to eat any other feed. I'd quickly reply, asking what the imperial kitchen would be serving that night. Honestly, she was a pretty good cook, but to maintain her figure, she ate very little herself. She seemed to enjoy watching me eat; sometimes, if there was even a tiny bit left, she'd pretend to be stern, saying the zookeeper was angry and the consequences would be severe. I'd then have to pretend to wolf down all the food.

I didn't spend much time with Jolin, but the clock at the company felt like it was ticking incredibly slowly. From the moment I left the house each day, I was always looking forward to getting off work. Once I finally did, I'd rush home. What was all this for? I often asked myself in the elevator, then gave myself an excuse unrelated to Jolin, took out my key, and opened the door. Friday night, Jolin received a phone call, sounding quite happy, and asked if I was free the next day. I said it was the weekend, so of course I was free.

Jolin smiled and said, "Then will you spend the whole day with me tomorrow? Say yes!"

I nodded: "But can you tell me what we're going to do first? We're not going to go shopping all day, are we?" "

No!" Jolin said with a mischievous smile, "Definitely not, so just say yes!" "

Okay, okay!" I thought to myself, I had nothing else to do anyway, so I might as well do something.

"Then we'll leave at 4 AM. I'll wake you up at 3:30, no backing out, okay? Shower and sleep now!" Jolin cheered and darted into the bathroom, leaving me alone on the sofa, blankly calculating how many more hours I could sleep. Sure enough,

at 3:30, Jolin knocked and woke me up. When I opened my sleepy eyes and reached for the bathroom, I found she was already all ready to go. Around 4 AM, the doorbell rang. It was the girl I'd seen at the roommate interview, Jolin's jerk, Shine.

"You're going too, Leon?" Shine tilted her head, looked at me, and winked at Jolin.

We took a taxi towards Longhua Airport. On the way, Jolin explained what was going on to me. It turns out that Jolin had been working as a model since graduation. However, at only 172cm tall, her height wasn't ideal for runway modeling, so she often did print modeling for clothing brands. Because she wasn't very famous, these were usually short-form shoots. This particular job was with Shine, who needed two girls, so Jolin went too.

The brand was a young women's clothing brand with a rather avant-garde and sexy concept. They chose Longhua Airport because some of the outdoor scenes there were cool, with dilapidated concrete structures that perfectly complemented the clothing's edgy feel. Also, the photographer wanted to shoot some sunrise shots, as sunrise represents the new generation.

When we arrived at the scene, most of their staff were already there. The photographer, a cultured-looking young man with long hair, knew Shine, so he greeted us as soon as we arrived: "Shine, you've got a lot of work to do today, probably shooting until tonight. Hang in there, ladies!"

Shine turned to look at me and replied, "Don't worry, we even brought some fans to cheer us on!"

"Also, did you tell Jolin that most of the outfits today won't be worn with bras?" the photographer said, fiddling with his camera.

"Okay, all set, don't worry."

No bras? My still-dazed mind suddenly cleared. That meant I was in for a treat! Later, Jolin told me that many clothing designers don't want the outline of a bra to be visible on the garment, ruining its lines. Therefore, they often require models to go braless. This is similar to the situation on the runway. Moreover, that brand is avant-garde and sexy, especially tight-fitting clothes with very low necklines. So, except for some clothes that need to be decorated with bra lace or bra straps, most of the clothes require models to go braless and wear thongs.

"Aren't you afraid of flashing on stage?" I asked Jolin curiously. Jolin sighed, "Sigh, as a model, your body isn't your own. Besides, you haven't been backstage at a runway. There are many male designers present, and you still take your clothes off and put them back on, don't you?" "

But we usually use breast petals to ward off wolves, like you, hehe!" "Look, that's the dressing room/makeup room, get ready to start," a woman in her thirties came in, pointed to a makeshift tent made of plastic sheeting in a corner, then looked at me and asked Shine who I was.

"Oh, she's my manager," Jolin answered quickly. The woman looked at Jolin, then at Shine, and said, "I thought you were one of Shine's people," she waved her hand, "okay, hurry up!" "That's the brand manager,

we negotiated this deal with her, she's very stingy, hmph!" Shine said to me in a low voice the whole way.

"Oh, I brought the contract. You can sign it during the lunch break!" the woman called out from behind, then caught up and shoved the contract into my hand. "You're the agent, you take a look first!"

It was a bit windy there, the plastic sheeting flapping loudly. I stood guard at the door while they changed clothes and put on makeup inside, giving off a bit of a chivalrous vibe.

As for the contract, I pretended to look at it, but I really didn't understand anything about it. It was just a bunch of "prohibitions," "musts," and "otherwise" clauses. Sigh, I had to force myself to read it!

Watching them take photos was initially enjoyable, but later became torture. First, please don't imagine you'll see any wardrobe malfunctions or anything like that. The clothes are indeed very sexy, but they're ready-to-wear, not fashion. Ready-to-wear is meant to be worn on the street, so in reality, at the end of the shoot, you'll only see glimpses of cleavage when they bend over. Second, don't imagine the photoshoot process is like what you see on TV with flashing cameras and models constantly changing poses—it's not like that at all. Every pose is directed by the photographer. After they've posed, the lighting technician walks around with a reflector to meter and adjust the light before taking the picture. I calculated that it takes about 2-3 minutes to complete one photo, because sometimes the same pose is taken five or six times.

Jolin later told me that it was fortunate the brand didn't require them to smile; they only needed to maintain an indifferent expression, otherwise their facial muscles would have cramped up!

And as the sun rose higher and the weather got hotter, everyone started sweating, and Jolin and Shine spent more and more time touching up their makeup. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to sweat and not be able to drink water? Jolin and Shine didn't drink much water all day because their waists are very slim and they don't have any excess fat. If they drank too much water, their lower abdomens would bulge out, which would make their clothes look much worse, especially those with exposed midriffs, which would make it impossible to shoot. Of course, they could only eat a small amount for lunch. In Shine's words, "Being able to get back alive is a victory!"

The shoot basically wrapped up around 8 or 9 pm. I roughly counted, and we probably shot about 20 or 30 outfits – impressive! Finally, there was a group photo. All the staff involved in the shoot gathered together, and everyone surrounded the brand manager, saying "cheese" – oh well, what can you do when he's the bread and butter?

When it came time to settle the bill, Jolin wanted me to be there too. It seems Jolin and Shine each got 5000 yuan for a day's work. On the way back, Jolin told me that a typical photoshoot costs 2000-3000 yuan, and those without bras are more expensive, around 5000-6000 yuan. If you're an award-winning model, the price can be close to 10,000 yuan, and if you're a model going abroad, it's easily tens of thousands of yuan. However, most models sign contracts with modeling agencies. These freelance models prefer a more independent lifestyle and work independently, earning the nickname "wild models," but their income is very unstable. Because they have dance training, they are often better suited than professional models for shoots that require performance or expression. Plus, they are familiar with the people they work with, so they typically have two to three work opportunities per month.

"And don't think this 5000 yuan is easy money. Do the math: we shot over twenty outfits, about ten photos per outfit, averaging tens of yuan per photo," Shine added. "But you know, brand managers actually only use about 50 photos, maybe twenty or thirty. So they think it's expensive. The two sides have different perspectives, so it's difficult to negotiate."

"Hey, stop talking, let's go to a bar to celebrate!" Shine suggested. "You come too," Shine said to the photographer. Jolin told me that the last time we went to Babyface was also a post-work party.

After the photographer packed up his equipment and handed it over to other staff, the four of us ate something and then went to SOHO in Xintiandi.

The photographer's name was Parker, and he was the one who took care of this job, so we were going to treat him, Jolin secretly told me. Parker was quite well-known in the photography industry and knew many clothing brand managers, so he would sometimes recommend models for photoshoots. However, he didn't want any kickbacks because he was rather promiscuous and had some ambiguous relationships with many models.

The music started, and Jolin and I drank for a while before starting to dance. However, Soho was too small, so we couldn't really let loose. We danced around the table, sometimes taking a small sip of our drinks as we danced, feeling quite intoxicated. Shine and Parker were dancing not far from us, the kind of dance that's fast to slow. Parker stood behind Shine, his arms around her waist, while Shine raised her arms and pressed her hips tightly against Parker's, slowly swaying her body.

Jolin and I were facing each other. When Jolin saw me looking at Shine and Parker, she stood on tiptoe, brought her head close to mine, and said, "Let's dance that kind too." Then she turned around, grabbed my hand, and placed it on her waist.

Our seats were near the restrooms, so towards the end, a large group of girls lined up in front of our table to use the restrooms—quite a sight! Since there was only one restroom each for men and women, the guys were unlucky. For example, while I was rinsing off, the door behind me was pushed open, and a girl rushed in, glanced at me, and then went to stall number one next to her, not even bothering to lock it; all I could hear was the sound of running water. But the people there seemed used to it. When I washed my hands at the door, the girl even nodded to me when she came out. Jolin had only been wriggling for a moment when I immediately felt a burning sensation rise from my groin to my head. The effects of the alcohol were amplified dramatically. I couldn't help but look down at Jolin's pink neck and ears, listening to her soft moans, but they were mixed with the loud music and didn't seem real; perhaps it was just my imagination.

At 1:30, we left the bar. The bar closed at 2:00, but by then, cars would be scarce, so we left half an hour early.

Shine and Parker were in one car. Parker said he would take Shine home, but even a fool could tell what was going to happen between them. I still pretended to be clueless and asked Jolin. Jolin laughed and told me that if I didn't know this, then I had come to the bar for nothing. Hehe, did Jolin see through my ulterior motives?

"But how can you know who needs whom?" "..." Jolin said softly as we were getting off the bus.

That night, nothing happened between us. Although I was looking forward to it, I didn't dare to say anything. After getting home, I took a shower, said goodnight, closed the door, and went to sleep.

Everything was as ordinary as ever, except I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about that hot feeling in the bar. Was she teasing me, or was it just a dance?

Jolin, what are you thinking about now? Will you dream about me? How do you feel about me? I drifted off to sleep with trepidation. I

've been sharing an apartment with Jolin for almost a month now. If you're asking if anything romantic has happened, I think you'll be disappointed. I have indeed gone from liking Jolin to admiring her, but I'm not sure how she feels about me, and I'm even more afraid that if I open my mouth, I'll lose such a good roommate. Deep down, I'm even more conflicted. Although Jolin is sexier and prettier than my previous girlfriends, I'm not bad-looking either, so we were always the ones who took the initiative before. Now, I feel a bit hesitant to make the first move. Also, while Jolin's spending isn't high, my current salary barely covers rent and I'm afraid Jolin will look down on me.

Jolin's behavior in this regard is also strange. Sometimes she's so affectionate that it makes me fantasize, as if I could easily pin her down on the bed, while other times she's as calm as still water, just saying goodnight.

Sigh, let's not talk about this anymore; it's too troubling, like the troubles of young Werther.

However, how Jolin truly feels about me now—that secret will be revealed later. I'll leave it at that for now.

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