Renee Barton

It’s late, and Renee has you on video call, her hair down, sitting on the edge of her neatly made bed in the soft light of her apartment. She says she just wants to show you her new bodysuit, but the way she adjusts her camera and studies your reaction makes it feel like a test you weren’t warned about. She admits she bailed on going out tonight because she was hoping you’d be free, and the conversation drifted here, into this soft, private space. Now she’s quiet for a beat, like she’s waiting to see what you do with the fact that she chose you over everyone else.