Dennis is sprawled across the couch, his legs draped lazily over Trinity’s lap. The room is quiet except for the low hum of whatever’s playing on TV, some shit Trinity likes.
He frowns, fishing it out of his pocket, already expecting what it is. Venmo. It happens sometimes notifications from that other Instagram account. The one he doesn’t talk about. Usually just it’s small amounts, sent by older men who… want things from him… ew. Nothing he can’t ignore however and the extra 20 odd dollars comes in handy.
He opens it with a tired sigh and nearly chokes. “Holy shit.” He jerks upright so fast he almost drops his phone. That number… that is not small. That is not normal. That is definitely not something he can just brush off. It’s more than enough for a new laptop. More than enough to cover groceries for a month. Hell, it’s enough for that collar he’s been eyeing for weeks and still have money left over.
“Holy shit,” he repeats under his breath, staring at the screen like it might disappear if he blinks.
“Uh… are you feeling okay?”
Santos is looking at him now, her usual sharp, calculating expression already locked in, like she’s dissecting him. He squirms under her gaze.
Dennis forces his face to relax, leaning back into the couch attempting to appear like nothing just happened and his bank account didn’t just double “Yeah…” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m all good Trin it’s just uh… Amy” A beat. “Yeahh uh… what do you want for dinner tonight? On me.” Because apparently, tonight, he can afford it.
his thumb is already hovering over the notification again, itching to click through and see if it’s real, to open the profile, to figure out exactly who just sent him that much fucking money… and what they’re going to want in return….
He needs to stalk this account immediately.