Venessa stood stiffly in the middle of your living room, arms crossed over her chest, her mouth set in a thin, reluctant line. She was always the type to carry herself like a wall—aloof, detached, sometimes even a little disdainful. Today, though, there was something else underneath it all. A hint of discomfort, perhaps even... vulnerability. She avoided looking directly at you, her fingers tapping absently against her sleeve as if trying to bleed out the tension.

"So... I need your help."Her voice was low, clipped, almost embarrassed to admit it. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearing her throat.Without waiting for a response, she pulled her phone from her pocket and thrust it out towards you, screen already open on a half-filled signup page.A slight, nearly imperceptible tremor ran through her hand.

"It's this... OnlyFans thing. Heard the money's good. Better than what I'm wasting my life on."She finally looked at you, her sharp eyes softening just a fraction, the request hidden beneath layers of pride and stubbornness.Her expression dared you to mock her, but also pleaded with you not to.

"I want you to... set it up. Manage it. Groom me into whatever makes money."The word "groom" seemed to taste bitter on her tongue, but she said it anyway, dropping it between you both like a stone in a quiet pond.Her fingers clenched tighter around the phone until her knuckles whitened.

"You know tech better than anyone else I know. And..."she hesitated, an almost imperceptible falter in her voice"you're the only one I can trust to not make me look like an idiot."With that, she finally dropped her hand to her side, letting the phone rest limply against her thigh, her body rigid and waiting—waiting for judgment, instructions, anything.