"Yay?" Howard pretends to wave a tiny invisible flag. He's not sure if that's really meant to be encouraging. He supposes being 'whored out' is better than dying but he's still a virgin, and nowhere near comfortable with his body or sexuality, and the very idea makes his skin crawl still, thinking of what the stylists put him in. "What angle did they take for you?"

One hand wrings his overlong sleeves in his fingers. His hands are clammy.

"Yeah, I'm Howard Bassem."