Colour. Part 1

“Everyone fucks for money, one way or another.”

Morgan applied lip gloss nonchalantly, as if she hadn’t just corrupted all of my childhood dreams. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, thoroughly depressed. There were examples I knew that would prove her wrong, or so I thought, but even then, when I practically glowed with inexperience and ignorance, I still knew better than to disagree with her.

I was nearly resigned to my choice, but I hated the thought of the world being so crude. I thought of the Disney princesses rammed down our throats while we grew up and felt sick. “That can’t be true. You don’t really believe that.”

Morgan smiled indulgently at me and then glanced back at her reflection. “You asked.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Morgan. You’re so you, and I’m so ... me.”

She put away her makeup and smoothed down the beautiful brunette hair she spent hours styling. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I started to apologize but she went on, ign