Even when I was younger, I knew that I was a complete freak. People think that perverts become perverts because of them discovering porn during their childhood or something, but I think something in my hormones just decided to scream, “Ariel is going to become obsessed with sex before even knowing what sex is.”

When I was younger I used to get in trouble at school for doing things I wasn’t supposed to do. Curious things, harmless things, but definitely things nobody my age should have been doing. Stupidly, no one ever told me why what I was doing was bad. They just told me, “girls shouldn’t be doing that.” I bet if I got a reason I would have bothered listening, but since I didn’t, all the way up to high school, all that happened was that I got more subtle at it instead.

So, of course, I discovered masturbation during grade school, and from that point on I was set. I had a button on me that gave me good feelings when I pressed it, and the more puberty changed me, the better the feelings were.

And then I was told about the Holy Grail of it all – if you got a boyfriend, and he touched it for you? You were set. It felt even better, and you could just sit back and enjoy it. What’s more, his dick? Goes inside you. Feels unreal. Best feeling on the planet.

The only problem? I sucked at talking to two people in particular: adults, basically any kind of adults, which wasn’t that bad since I barely had to, and boys I was crushing on. And you needed to have a crush on a boy to make him your boyfriend, and he needed to have a crush back. It was kind of hard to figure out if he had a crush on me if every time I so much as looked at a boy I liked, I’d turn pink, look back down at my desk and start giggling to myself.

Any other girl would be worried about that. They would be seen as a weirdo and their popularity would be in danger. Fuck that. Who gives a shit if you’re popular? Once you have your own little circle, you’re set. You’re good. Wanting to be liked by everyone was reserved for little babies who couldn’t handle anyone thinking you’re anything less than the little princess you’re clearly not. And no one, in all of Hazelwood, understood this better than the Media Gang.

I loved the Media Gang. We weren’t really a gang, or even a club, but just the people that took ComTech in junior year and fell in love with it. Anything, from the morning announcements to whatever got posted to the school’s YouTube channel, was handled by us. We knew nobody gave a shit, but parents did, and anytime Hazelwood’s mouth spoke, parents would shower the school with praise. AKA, they showered us with praise.

I was not the leader by any means, but the Media Gang was such a family that the word ‘leader’ was just a formality anyway. To the family, I wasn’t just another student interested in media, I was just Ariel. And what’s more, I didn’t just have that family ... I had another.

Outside of my career at school, I was crazy interested in two things – penises and making videos. I couldn’t do anything but fantasize about penises, so in my off time, if I wasn’t playing with my pussy, I was making videos, usually YouTube videos. I would watch video essays (a type of video where adults talked about how bad children’s media was for close to an hour), get ideas, then make my own, and had done that for basically the last three-ish years, and that’s what landed me my second family.

There was this group of review YouTubers – basically YouTubers that liked to review movies and stuff like that – called The Amazing Channel. It had kind of a dumb name, but they found my channel after only thirty-ish videos and 2000 subscribers and, above all, assumed I was an adult. They offered me an in on their channel, and offered to pay me as long as I could keep producing ‘quality content.’

(I was screaming about how bad NeverEnding Story’s editing was for about five minutes straight in my last video. Quality content.)

The only problem was, I wasn’t eighteen yet, even if I would be in seven months. Who could wait seven months? This was the internet age, baby. In seven months, these people would forget I existed. I had to do something, anything, to navigate this little problem.

Abraham was a complete bro. With a name like “Abraham,” he was never going to be popular, so he resigned to his fate and pursued his hobbies instead, which landed him in our little Media Gang family. More importantly though, he was never judgmental. He wasn’t the best-looking guy on the planet, but we didn’t care about that. We were usually too amazed by the fact he was always picking up new skills in his off-time and talking about them casually.

I leaned over his shoulder as he worked his Photoshop magic. “It’s all about making sure it has the same texture,” he noted out loud, maybe just to himself, as he made a new layer over this fake ID we were making.

I had to admit, it looked really real. Still, I didn’t want to boost his ego too much. “Make the age eighteen,” I demanded, gesturing to the age. “They’re gonna think I’m lying if I set the age too high.”

Abe shook his head. “Trust me,” he replied. “If you’re eighteen, one, they’re just gonna baby you, and two, what if they like to hang out and drink with each other?”

I gave him a weird look. “Um, they’re strangers, Abe,” I replied. “I’m not going to meet up with them IRL.”

“Ugh,” Drew groaned from two computers down. “Just say ‘in real life.’” He had his computer headphones on, so his fedora sat next to his keyboard. We teased him about it, and I would never admit to him that he’s the only guy I met that could actually pull off the fedora look. It helped that he kept his face shaven and cut his hair. Any less dedication to looking clean-cut, and a fedora made you look like a cringelord.

Abe ignored him. “I’m just saying, I bet The Amazing Channel does video calls, and if they think you’re too young to, you know, indulge, they’re gonna baby you.”

“Nobody here babies me,” I pointed out.

“We wouldn’t dare,” Drew laughed, now in this. “Damn Abe, that actually looks professional.”

“Yeah, trouble is, we need to print it on a good material,” he thought out loud. “Plus there’s that reflective stuff that goes over top.”

“Does that matter? I’m just gonna be sending a picture of it,” I pointed out.

“Trust me,” Abe said simply.

“Do you think I pass for a twenty-one-year-old?” I asked Drew.

Drew looked me over, moving his mouth to the side in thought. “I mean, no, but I already know you. If you just say you look young for your age ... especially if you’ve got the ID to prove it...”

“Wow, you were not kidding,” the guy murmured, looking at the picture file I sent. “You do look young for your age.”

I decided not to be too opinionated (AKA too Ariel) in my first meeting with the guy, so I shrugged. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Oh, definitely not,” he replied immediately. “To be honest, I bet viewers will really like that. They’re expecting some young girl but then a grown woman opens her mouth and they’re all like ‘oh, this is not what I expected. I wanna listen.’ You know?”

I smiled at him, though probably not for the reason he thought.

“Anyways, all this checks out. We’ll be using PayPal unless you need us to use something else. All we’d need from you is a video uploaded every two weeks. And obviously, try to make them good. Eye-catching thumbnails, interesting ideas, all that. I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but I mean, this is YouTube, so if you really wanted a winner, all you’d have to do is wear a, you know, lower-cut shirt in the thumbnail and guys will flock to it. I’m not tryna be weird or sexist, I’m just saying, that gets the views.”

I raised my eyebrows. Wow, this guy was direct. A little creepy, but I was me, so that only intrigued me. Still, I was a freak, not dumb. If it somehow got out I was seventeen and joined this company, the worst I would get was a slap on the wrist. If I appealed to online strangers’ horny levels when I was under eighteen, I’d get in serious shit.

“We obviously won’t punish you if a video flops,” he continued. “It happens. But if videos keep flopping or you don’t get the views we thought you would, we have a right to revisit our deal with you. It’s all in the contract, so be sure to read it over.”

I already did, before the call began. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea that this guy basically got to own my content and could cancel at any time even though I couldn’t. Plus, I was seventeen and ... well, to be frank, my videos were already better than his. It helped that I actually knew how cameras worked – white balance, aperture, you name it. This guy knew how to buy an expensive camera at Best Buy and find the record button. Still, the money was good, and it was clear I wasn’t going to find this level of exposure anywhere else, so...

As soon as our useless ComTech teacher, Mr. Whittleton, left the room, Abe busted out the champagne. “Go team!” he chanted, opening the bottle ceremoniously. Drew, Raven and Harmony all cheered, while Greg twirled a finger above him sarcastically, not turning around from his computer.

Raven was a cool guy, if a little misunderstood. He wasn’t really good at ... anything involving media, but he was also 5’3 and a boy, so where else was he going to go? He had everything going for him to be trendy at Hazelwood – mixed-race, good fashion sense, visible abs – but not height. Poor guy.

Harmony was your typical nerdy-looking girl. Not like, “ooh, she’s nerdy” nerdy like dumb boys drool about, but like, actually nerdy. A full lisp to her voice, thick glasses, one eye that always looked in a slightly different direction, and all the crippling insecurities and self-doubt that came from boys repeatedly bullying her about those things over the years. In here, she was confident, and it was actually kind of a shame. When she was confident, she actually had some pretty good charisma, and probably could have found some cute boy to date, but, well, her options were kind of limited here.

I’m not saying the guys here were undateable, but it wasn’t like they were nice guys that happened to look weird. Abe liked proving people wrong, Drew had an ‘um actually’ problem, Raven was like most blank-slate trying-to-be-popular guys – boring – and Greg thought he would lose street cred by actually taking interest or something. We knew he cared deep down, but Greg had this habit of only ever talking to people to make a joke at their expense or something. It actually kind of sucked that he was the best-looking out of all of us, because he could have actually done something with that. Instead, he always set out to neg people or rib them or whatever. The end result was that over time, you’d push back, and then Greg would point out, in front of everyone, how “defensive” you were. Ugh. Nobody but me actually insulted him back, but hilariously, Greg would defend himself with this faux chuckle every time someone did hit him back. Like it was so funny that someone was attempting to do what he did to him. He had the thinnest skin I’d ever seen on a guy. In small doses though, he was funny and even kind of sweet, and actually good intentions. So I only ever allowed myself to experience him in small doses.

We quickly gave out plastic cups to everyone – even Greg – and poured the champagne. It wasn’t real champagne, just some alcohol-free sparkling beverage. We weren’t stupid enough to have alcohol out in a classroom. We did this kind of celebration all the time – the last time was when Drew got his driver’s license. We were a family. We liked celebrating things together.

After drinking and celebrating, most of the Media Gang just went back to work, although Harmony and I got to talking.

“Tho what’th your firtht video going to be?”

I smirked. “I mean, I already have about thirty out, if you want to check them out,” I admitted cheekily. “But I dunno. It’s just business as usual, but now I’m gonna get paid for it.”

“Wow,” Harmony replied with stars in her eyes. She may have been older than me, but she was adorable when she got excited, like a lil’ kitten. It was easy to see her as attractive, but I was me. I could see anyone as sexy.

And that was a blessing and a curse. I physically couldn’t handle keeping my hands away from myself at least three times a day. Once in the bathroom stalls at lunch, once when I got home after school and once right before bed. If I woke up early, I was going to finger myself. If I was bored mid-afternoon, I was sliding my pants off and having fun. My parents, if they were even home, didn’t really give a shit about me, and my little brother, the most understanding person in the world, accepted it. He didn’t judge me, and I loved him for that. He wasn’t weirded out, he didn’t ask questions, he wasn’t creepy ... he just gave me my space. What a trooper. Dude seemed to hate sex anyway – I had no idea how we were related. I used my first paycheck from The Amazing Channel to get him some noise-canceling headphones as a thank you. He was a huge gamer, so he loved them. I shared a thin wall with my bro, so it worked out for me too.

I used to watch porn, but it got stale really quickly. Plus, it turned out that if my job was making fun of bad movies, watching porn was the worst thing I could do to myself. There was only so many cheesy plotlines and so much wooden acting I could handle. I wanted something real.

I got the naughty idea shortly before joining The Amazing Channel. It was so taboo, so awful. I just looked up my friends’ socials and fingered myself to them. It wasn’t pornographic, it was usually not even sexy, but the idea of me fingering myself like a slut to Abe’s newest profile picture was the hottest fucking thing. I didn’t even have a crush on Abe, but if he ever wanted to be friends with benefits, I would totally be down.

Honestly, that was the case with every friend. I’d bend over for Drew. I’d suck Raven’s dick. I would eat out Harmony until she screamed. I’d even let Greg use me in that way I knew he would. And me using their innocent pictures to get myself off got me even more hot and bothered than usual. I found something new, something sexy. I loved it.

I loved it a little too much, as it turned out, if the text from my little bro asking me to be a bit quieter “please” was evidence. Besides, I’d been fingering myself for close to an hour. It was time to work. That review of The Road to El Dorado wasn’t going to make itself.

I set up the camera, readied the script, and cleared my throat, ready to start. As I did, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, staring at myself for a few seconds. I was wearing this button-up blouse. It looked cute, but conservative. Experimentally, I unbuttoned a button on my blouse, allowing a little bit more of my chest to show. I wasn’t busty at all – the tragedies of being born into a thin-as-rags family – but it was still kind of fun to show off. I smiled triumphantly to myself. I wasn’t breaking any laws by showing a little more skin.

Abe scored a bullseye by insisting I pose as twenty-one. The next online meeting I had with The Amazing Channel featured a surprise guest – alcohol. I was abstaining, of course, but the other guys – and they were all guys – wanted to make sure everyone in the chat was of age before they started drinking their beers and playing Jackbox. I didn’t know what would have happened if I said I was eighteen, but odds were, they wouldn’t have let me into the call.

Go figure, the guys all loved me. They were just as much shut-in nerds as the guys in the Media Gang, but the Media Gang had two girls – one of them being me of all people – letting them know that girls were humans too. These guys thought all women wear corsets and put hearts above their i’s and always say ‘please and thank you’ and were dumber than men or something. Yet here I was, a fully grown woman, sitting at her computer with bad posture, wearing pajama bottoms, making better dick jokes than any of the men during Quiplash. All I had to do was dye my hair and bam, I was every boy’s dream girl. I wasn’t ruling it out but for now it stayed my signature dark brown.

One Discord meeting quickly turned into two, then three, then four. The guys met every week, and apparently at first, they only planned to invite me to one a month. Soon, I was seeing them every week too, and they were getting more and more open joking about sex in front of a girl. How scandalous.

“Let’s fucking go!” CinemaCynic celebrated when the screen showed he won our game of Tee KO. “You guys need to step up your game.”

“And you need to get some bitches, Nick,” I scoffed, and the other guys all went “Ooooh” in a chorus. It wasn’t a great line, but whenever a woman said it, these dudes lost their minds.

“Sorry, where’s your boyfriend, Ariel? At the bottom of the sea?” CinemaCynic tried to fire back.

“What’s that, like, a Little Mermaid joke?” I asked with derision.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dan from Show Me the Money Shot cut in with his signature buttery voice. “Ariel was the mermaid in that movie. She fell for a guy from the land, on the beach or whatever.”

“Yeah, if this is your brand of snappy commentary Nick, don’t expect to have more subscribers than me for too long, dude,” I added swiftly, getting rewarded with another chorus of “Ooh”s.

Nick laughed, knowing this was all in good fun, though he couldn’t resist slipping in an “Ariel, you are so fucking ugly, dude” when I went up to get some water.

I leaned back into the frame of my webcam and just asked, “Yo Nick, how much do you weigh?” and took my headphones off, knowing the guys would be hooting and hollering again. This was so fun. I played it off as whatever, but this was like having a second family – one that paid me to be a family member. Yeah, they were a little weird, but what family wasn’t weird? Ohana means family, and family means you get called ugly a few times for a joke. Besides, I knew I wasn’t ugly, so that helped.

That meeting changed me forever, once I got back and put my headphones on. As soon as I said that I was back, Nick started laughing.

“See? She totally looks like it!” he insisted to the others.

“Looks like what, what did I miss?” I asked.

“It’s creepy. Trust me, don’t ask,” Cartoon Critic warned me.

I rolled my eyes. “Guys, I’m a woman on the internet. I can handle creepy. Though it’s not surprising at all that Nick is being the creepy one.”

“Oh come on, Dan’s gonna be the one outed in like six years for touching kids,” Nick joked.

“Projection,” Dan noted humorously.

“I was just saying,” Nick continued. “That you look exactly like one of those ‘pick me’ girls that lets her like three boyfriends freeuse her. And I’m not gonna apologize for it.”

My eyebrows lowered in slight confusion. Free use? Never heard of it.

“See, what did I say, you pissed her off,” Cartoon Critic cut in. “Nick, you gotta learn to-”

“No no, I just don’t get it,” I clarified. “What’s free use?”

Silence, then a chorus of laughter met my ears. “What’s free use?” Matthew from This Movie Sucks repeated. “Come on, Ariel, you’re trolling us.”

“It’s pretty intuitive,” Dan continued.

“Well, I’m not getting it, so just tell me,” I flatly replied.

“Nah, this is a trick,” Nick replied swiftly. “I get it. Make me explain the burn so it just looks awkward on me. I ain’t falling for it.”

“No trick,” I said earnestly. “I just have no clue what free use is.”

“Wow,” Dan chuckled. “Okay, so – I’ll handle this one, Nick. Free use, is, uh ... Wow, this is actually kind of hard.”

“It’s a sex thing, right?” I asked rhetorically. “Do you have a problem talking about sex to a girl, Daniel? I can recommend you a shrink.”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” Dan laughed. “Fine, you want blunt? It’s when a girl offers up her body to her male friends. Like, anytime, anywhere, just using her body. It’s not even about her pleasure, it’s like she’s a sex toy for her dude friends.”

“Or girl friends,” Nick cut in. “Or a boy can do it. Or, like, anyone.”

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t thinking of using inclusive fucking language to talk about Ariel getting freeused, dude,” Dan laughed.

It was like brain synapses were getting formed on the spot. I’d never felt so stupid in my life. How could I have never even conceived of this idea?? Getting free used. Not even friends with benefits, just ... getting used. Like a living sex toy. Under a desk giving a guy a blowjob while he’s just working or doing something else. Or even talking to a friend, with me sucking his cock being the most banal, normal thing in the world. Fuck.

“See? You upset her,” Nick continued as I faded back into reality.

“Me?!” Dan asked incredulously. “You were the one that said she looks like she enjoys it!! She asked me to explain it and I did.”

“Guys, I’m not upset,” I cut in, in a way softer voice than I normally used. I squeezed my legs together. I was so incredibly wet. I needed to log off soon and spend some quality time with my fingers. For a millisecond, I thought about lying, but ... these guys were my family. I couldn’t lie to my family. “I honestly never even considered that could be a thing. That’s all.”

Matthew guffawed. “Wow Ariel, never? You talk a big game, but you are way more innocent than we thought you were.”

I breathed in and out. I couldn’t lie to my family. “Oh no Matthew,” I began in a low voice. “I’m uh ... I think about sex a lot. Like, you want blunt? I have to get off like three times a day, minimum.”

In the webcam view, I saw Cartoon Critic drop his beer can.

“I don’t even watch porn anymore because it’s too tame for me. It’s also super manufactured, you know? If I’m gonna finger myself, it needs to be to something real. Something freaky. So this free use thing is, uh ... it’s kinda doing it for me.”

No one said anything for a bit. “Woah,” Nick eventually croaked. “That’s, uh ... that’s wild.”

“That’s definitely a thing you just said,” Dan acknowledged.

“I mean, whatever,” Cartoon Critic replied in this faux ‘playing it cool’ voice. “It’s biology. It’s normal. Everybody does it.”

“I never said I do it,” Nick cut in, and the other guys chuckled a bit. There was definitely a lull in the conversation after that. I guess I made it awkward by being blunt, but they literally joked about me enjoying it like a minute before, so like...? What, was I not allowed to admit to liking sex, but they could joke or probably even fantasize me being into it? Talk about a double standard.

That day I learned two important lessons. One, The Amazing Channel was still my second family, but like, the older family, the one that was out of touch. The one you can’t really have deep chats with, or they’ll think you’re being weird, despite their attempts to be cool and understanding. Two, I loved free use. Once the call was over, I was hornier than I’d ever remembered being. I looked up free use porn, I read free use stories, and my hand never left my pussy for close to two hours. If my brother ever texted me, I told him I had needs and to put those headphones to good use. I was discovering myself. I needed this.

My leg moved restlessly in class. I was debating raising my hand and asking Mr. Jefferson if I could go to the bathroom. I already did last period to quickly play with myself, but it wasn’t enough. It was like scratching a mosquito bite – it just made me need more. Three times a day was now a distant memory; it was five, minimum, often more. And at least two were at school.

It was getting bad. Whenever I denied myself release for too long, I caught myself using my free hand to rub myself over my pants under the desk. Thank goodness none of my dumb teachers saw, they would just say I needed counseling or whatever. I knew better. I needed to be free used.

Trouble was, by whom? The only people who already knew about free use in my life were older, and physically strangers. Yeah, we talked online, but they were kinda dorky and kinda creepy and, biggest hurdle, thought I was twenty-one. It was hot to finger myself thinking about an older guy taking me – my teachers, for instance, may have been dumb, but some of them were hot as fuck – but it was an idea. A fantasy. Only sexy because it wouldn’t happen. I could think about Mr. Jefferson’s cock all I wanted, but if the dude actually tried to seduce me, I would have genuinely reported the guy. Leave fantasies as fantasies, you know? Maybe someday if I met him in a grocery store after graduating ... maybe. We’d have to see.

And The Amazing Channel? Nope. I wouldn’t tell the other creators about it, but after the call ended, Matthew ended up sending me a message, saying that if I ever wanted the free use experience, he could show me a few things privately, but ‘only if I wanted, no pressure.’ Playing it cool. He had no idea I was still in high school. I couldn’t do that to him, or myself. I tried to let him down as easy as I could. It helped that I could say “I can’t do anything long distance, it has to be in person” and that seemed as reasonable as anything.

So who did that leave? Any boy I crushed on was a no-no, both because I couldn’t just be free-used by a guy I wanted to date, and because I couldn’t even talk to those boys, let alone ask them to use my body as they pleased. I had a few distant friends, and I had boys drooling over me in one or two classes. It could be really easy to corner those drooling boys and give them the deal, but there were a few problems there. One, if things went south, “Ariel likes being free used” would be an ugly rumor. Knowing how much our school hated women as much as early SNL did, I could have probably been suspended or something with a rumor like that. Two, it was a hassle and frankly kind of vulnerable to approach strangers and just be like, “Hi! You don’t know me at all, but you’re attracted to me. Let’s spend some time getting to know each other, and we’ll see if you still like me after, you know, actually getting to know me, or if you’ll get me to change. If it’s the latter, go fuck yourself. If it’s the former, great! I’ll then tell you how I’m not looking for a relationship and say I’m into being free used, and we’ll have to be on the same page on both fronts if this is going to work. If not, I go to the next drooling boy and start again from square one.” Jesus. What a headache. I sighed, getting up from my English class and leaving, onto my next class.

The Media Gang was all that was left. They wouldn’t judge me, but they were virgins, almost definitely, and they didn’t even want to take charge during the morning announcements, let alone casual free use sex. All this reflecting just culminated in me sulking, my restless leg reflecting my constant need to cum, sitting next to Greg as he worked.

He peered over at me briefly. “You look like shit,” he observed.

“Yeah, I feel like shit,” I admitted, then looked around the room. Raven was out, Harmony was taking a break listening to music, and Drew and Abe were diligently working, headphones on.

“Well, if you wanted to say something, may as well,” Greg replied, focused on his work himself but with his headphones off.

I nervously looked around. My heartbeat grew faster at the very idea of telling him. I learned very quickly not to be blunt, and even though I wasn’t always a fan of Greg’s attitude, he was still a dear friend that I didn’t want to lose. At the same time, I was going crazy. I needed to tell someone, even if they weren’t going to be the one to free use me.

“So, uh...” I began clumsily. “It’s really private stuff, if you get what I mean.”

Greg, uncharacteristically, looked around the room too. He looked back at me and gave me a muted smile. “We may as well be alone,” he confirmed after noting his surroundings. “Private, like, bad news, or private like, it’s about other people, or private like, you hooked up with a guy?”

“I guess mostly the third one?” I admitted. “But I didn’t hook up with a guy. But, um, do you ever ... you know, hook up with people?”

“If you want the honest answer, I used to,” Greg admitted. He didn’t need to fake playing it cool. He just was relaxed and confident talking about it. I squeezed my legs together, remembering all the times I came to his topless beach trip pictures. “You know how Tiffany and I were kind of on-and-off?”

I nodded, flushing a little.

“Well, even when we were off, we were kind of friends with benefits. Ultimate compliment, I guess. Even when she didn’t want to be my girlfriend, she still wanted my-” He turned to look at me. “I mean ... sorry, that’s crass.”

“Crass is okay. I can handle crass. Be crass,” I said a little too quickly. Wow, I was not acting as smoothly as I could have been.

He noticed. His eyes lingered on me for a bit, then he continued. “Okay, so, oversharing alert...” He glanced at me, but I said nothing, so he continued. “I’m pretty gifted down there. Tiff still wanted my dick after we broke up the first time, and it kinda became this complicated on-and-off thing where we kept going, ‘hey, if we’re having sex, may as well be boyfriend and girlfriend again.’ Then we remembered we had zero actual romantic feelings for each other.” He sat back and chuckled. “Every single time. We managed to forget like three or four times. So we just stopped trying to be a couple and, y’know, did it every few days or weeks or whatever. We actually only stopped a month ago. She’s seeing some new guy. Part of me is bummed out, but part of me is like, ‘yes, I can move on, I’m a free man,’ you know? It was like, I couldn’t actually have sex with anyone else as long as I was with her, even if we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend.”