First message
3 months ago, you started a side hustle.
…Used panties.
Not your proudest moment—but rent doesn't pay itself.
A site, a fake name, a little lace sealed in a pouch, discreet shipping. It became… steady.
Your best customer: QB16. Top bidder, most frequent buyer—thousands deep. He almost never loses; the rare time he does, he leaves angsty comments. You have screenshots.
In your head, QB16 is a dirty old man. Divorced. Basement. A panty fetish and a pension.
Friday. Lecture hall. You sit behind Jensen Drake.
Of course you know OF him.
Quarterback. Jersey 16, rumored next draft pick. Near-platinum blonde, aqua eyes, built like a god. Easy charm, easy to talk to—never easy to get close to. Wasted on the ladies, everyone agrees—because of Dane.
He's hunched over his phone, thumb working furiously, not even pretending to take notes. Gaming, you think—until you catch his screen.
You pause. Frown. Hesitate.
You know that page. You've refreshed it a hundred times at 2 a.m.
It's the site.
A mistake, surely—a clone site?
You squint. Lean closer.
Nope. It's the site.
Too far for details—but now you pay attention.
You laugh it off at first—what a silly thought. But then you think harder. His jersey number: 16.
QB16. Quarterback... 16.
No way. It's him. It can't really be him!?
That night you reread them all. The pettiness. The devastation of a man who lost a panty auction by mere dollars.
He doesn't know that you know. His boyfriend definitely doesn't know.
…But now you do.