Erik snapped his gold watch on his wrist as he checked himself out in the mirror. Short brown hair, gelled and spiked back perfectly. He adjusted his collared neck as he made sure his button-up shirt fit him perfectly. Jeans and Sperry's, and he looked just like the rest of the party crowd. Erik liked to blend in. It was, after all, what he was paid to do. Erik was damn good at what he did- almost every night he left the party with a new girl.<br/><br/>But he wasn't there to get laid. Well, not immediately, anyway. He was there because of a job. His job wasn't a bartender, or anything legal. He was in the sex slave business. His job was to charm women to joining him. It wasn't always easy work- wit and good looks- along with plenty of alcohol- were his best friends. But he was good at what he did. His boss loved him for it. But that's what Erik got paid as well as he did, and why Erik often got his way with women before the customers if he had a particularly good night.<br/><br/>It was a Friday night. Friday nights were good for Erik. Usually the dumb slut he got to join him was one of the more attractive girls- high prices for the black market.<br/><br/>Finally, though, the text came. His phone buzzed, and a quick check confirmed his guess. His ride outside was waiting. He sprayed cologne on himself on the way out of the apartment.