Chéri agreed with enthusiasm and sipped another little bit of wine, before rearranging his new, boring suit. He was sad not to have his flamboyant clothes on. It felt like a step back. It felt like he had started to lose a self he had worked pretty hard on getting back.

Chéri breathed deeply “Yes, that is correct. Although in my experience people have a specific thing they expect from me.” Had Chéri not been a sex worker, most people wouldn’t have known the difference. Something in him just screamed what his destiny was always meant to be.
Chéri shrank a little in his shoulders at the mention of learning how to read, but he didn’t say that openly. And then she hugged him. Chéri was very much used to be touched, but didn’t expect it from Christine. He laughed out loud. “Like a doll,” he whispered, so low it was a little creepy. “You are funny.” It sounded like the best of the compliments.