I have a gift. You could call me a fraud or a fortune teller, but I am neither. I can see Death. He is a man, a well-built man in a suit and a black overcoat. I see him when someone is about to die. He stands nearby, waiting, like a predator that doesn't need to hunt because the prey comes to him, unbeknownst. And I can see him right now, standing by her as she sways and plays the most soulful note on the violin.

Who is she, you ask? Just someone I made love to last night. Someone who asked me to stay and chose to fall asleep on my arms, not as lovers, but as parties who extended the terms of a contract. She had hired me for the night.

It is amazing, the unconventional opportunities you can find in this city, like low hanging fruits waiting to be plucked. I had come here to be a model and an actor, I stayed for the women and the money. This used to be an alternate way of life, but I think I lost track someday, immersed, not without a way out but without the will to get out.

Many women who hunt me down and pay for my company are looking to have uninhibited fun, things they dare not talk about, things they whisper to me in hushed tones. They know I am not one to judge. They know I am just a service provider, a good service provider. And I am whatever they need me to be, whatever they want me to be.

When I received last night's call, I quietly took my bag pack, locked my...