swsub.com
My body is my work.
If I'm not in good shape, neither is my career, so...
Belle...
is considering some professional...
development.
Right. Let's take a look.
- Augmentation, Doctor? - Yeah. Without a doubt.
- I'd say a mastoplexy too. - I can see that.
It's a big job. But it's not impossible.
Sorry.
This will give you some idea of where the incisions would be.
You er... You cut round the nipples?
The nipples are repositioned.
It's a lift so we'd have to move them up the breast.
There will be some scarring, but...
since there's a change of colour anyway, it's a nifty solution.
Nifty. It's...
You've got a slight abnormality of the breast that's called tuberous.
- Tumorous? - No, no, tu-ber-ous.
It's a condition where the breasts are quite long in shape,
rather than high and round.
We can correct it.
God, I didn't realise there was an actual term.
- It's not uncommon. - Have you had children?
I should ask, what has prompted you to consider the surgery?
Well, I thought in my line of work it might be useful.
- Are you a model? - Yeah...
Stroke, actress...
stroke, physical therapist...
stroke, counsellor...
- stroke... - I'll put self-employed.
Do I...?
Do I need them done?
At least, Belle can claim it back on tax.
Hey, Hannah, it's Alex. I wondered if you still fancied that drink?
Let me know if you've got a free evening.
Hardly. Belle's a busy girl.
- Hi. Sorry, Belle, you were... - No, it's fine, it's just me!
- I'm sorry if I seemed a bit rude... - No, not at all, you're at work.
- With Eleanor there... - Of course.
Thanks for seeing me.
I thought it was better than going to see some stranger.
Maybe we should make another appointment.
With you or with me?
For me, with you.
- Yeah, I can do... - Tomorrow. Just an hour.
Tomorrow afternoon, four, at mine?
Yeah, that's grand, thanks.
- Can I...? - Yeah.
- I should probably... - Probably.
I can't wait. Look forward to it.
Just...
I can't go on a real date...
like a normal person. I'm a prostitute.
That's what I am.
I'm an independent prostitute.
No agency, no madam.
No-one leeching off me.
In the end, you can only rely on yourself.
- Hiya! - Bambi.
I knew it was you!
- How are you? - Yeah, good, ta.
I should say thanks for all the advice you gave me about the job.
- You're welcome. - I'm going for it!
That's good... I guess.
So... have you done proper research?
I mean, have you... have you got an agency?
I'm sorted. I've been talking to this bloke on the net.
He's got his own studio thing in Bow. Take your pictures and everything.
Bambi, Stephanie.
Stephanie, Bambi.
- All right? - Good Lord.
Look who it is.
It's just an introduction, and it's probably a very bad idea.
- You bought me a little friend? - Yeah, and I'm off.
Wait.
Can't you stay? She's scary.
Bambi, you were off to some strange bloke's garage in Bow.
Yeah, but...
Go on, just for a minute.
Let's have a look.
Profile.
Yeah, needs work, but we could have something here.
Punters love a new girl. Can't help that.
Nothing can replace experience.
- Older girls always say that. - I'm not old.
I just mean for an escort. Your body changes.
Young girls come up on the inside.
Sweetheart, it's the only job where the less you've worked,
the more you can charge.
Nearly half of which she takes, by the way.
- Are you just going to undermine me? - I'm just being honest.
You know, Bambi, you need work,
but my books could really use a nice British girl.
That used to be Belle.
She was always available,
all about the job, one hundred percent escort.
I'm not all about the job.
It's just Eastern Europeans and nasty porn stars these day.
I did a bit of porn.
Funny, they all look down on you lot, you know.
"I'm a performer not a prostitute,"
and you're all, "I'm an escort, I'd never do porn."
You know, in my time I've done things you couldn't even imagine.
The work will always be there.
A city without whores is like a house without bathrooms.
Have a think about it.
Actually, I reckon I've made my decision.
I wanna be independent. Like Belle.
If you ever change your mind,
you too, Belle,
the door's always open, as long as your legs are.
I can let you know what I do, but I'm not going to be your mentor.
Ment-whore!
OK, sorry, let me know what you do.
Just so you know,
the most important thing: safety.
And that is why...
Look at this email.
I'd never go near this one.
"Hey baby," and he's misspelled "baby".
- You're a snob! - Yeah, I am a snob.
The whole tone of it is wrong.
It comes with experience.
I've... I've got to a point where I'm more...
I'm more confident, not easily intimidated.
- What's that? - Some bloke who wants to go on a date.
- I'll do it. - No, not like that.
- Proper, real life date. - You should go.
- No, bad idea. - Good idea.
Anyway, so I was saying,
the biggest security stuff happens before the appointment.
- You should call that bloke back. - No, I don't date like civilians.
It's just a drink. My days, if I didn't know,
I would say you were well in need of getting laid.
- Hardly. - You are all work and no play, babes.
I don't know.
Somewhere along the line, since my best mate left London,
I couldn't really be arsed with a personal life.
Not that much going on except work.
It'll be larks.
Have a beer, have a flirt.
What's your real name?
- Hannah needs some loving too. - Yeah, maybe.
Go on, do it. I'm not gonna leave until you do it.
Go on! Do it!
All right. OK.
So, I...
have a date
tomorrow night.
Yeah, looks like you do!
These days I can get ready for a client in my sleep.
They like big hair,
big breasts
and a big smile.
But you can't fake everything.
That's it.
I'm gonna make such a mess of you.
Sorry, I don't think it's gonna happen.
Are you sure you should have any more of that?
It's not this.
My God, it's my tits, isn't it?
You think they look like spaniels ears
with nipples.
Well, yeah.
No, but not like that.
- You've got lovely normal breasts. - Normal.
- Do you want some? - No, I don't.
I look at them and I think what I said to you.
- It's your job. - Yeah. God, I hate my job.
Really? Why?
Anal bleaching.
Vaginoplasty.
I know it's your choice, and all,
and I know,
women are free to disempower themselves these days or whatever.
Yeah, we appreciate that.
I should be helping burns victims.
I could set fire to my breasts.
That won't be necessary.
I specifically started seeing you because you haven't had work.
I don't want to be scrutinizing another man's work when I'm...
- in the moment. - Sure.
I can't work on you and carry on seeing you.
There's something still a bit...
normal about you. I like that.
Thanks very much.
- I've become a shitty person. - No! It's your work.
You don't see me getting all moralistic about what I do, do you?
Well, your job is about making people feel better.
I make people feel awful about themselves.
Tuberous breasts.
We made it up.
Breasts are breasts.
There's nothing wrong with you.
Really?
Really.
I'm definitely keeping this, though.
The last time I rang you, I got that other girl...
- the one who answered your phone. - What?
The one you sent round instead of you.
I'd rather see you than your replacement.
What girl?
Stealing clients off me?
You answered my phone and you've been on my laptop to reply to that email.
I am trying to help you!
I can't believe you're so fucking disingenuous!
You know what, don't call me back!
This is why you should never help anyone.
Other people are bastards.
And now I have to go on a date! With a real person!
- Sorry I'm late. - It's OK. Sit yourself down.
- Do you wanna drink? - I'll have whatever you're having.
- A bottle of... - Actually, no.
I'll have what I want...
and I'll have...
- I'll have a beer. - I'll have... a glass of red wine.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
No. I was just saying thank you to him.
- Right. - 'Cos we haven't got our drinks.
Have...
Sorry. You've... Have you...?
- Don't worry. It's nothing. - Oh, my God.
Not that, not that.
It looks like there's something drawn on your...
Oh, yeah. No...
This is a moustache.
I am so sorry.
Not a real one. I drew it on.
Sometimes I like to draw facial hair on myself.
Excellent.
- Do you know what you're gonna have? - I might have...
the steak.
So, you've just moved back. How are you finding London?
I'd forgotten how great it was. You know?
Nobody looks at you. Nobody gives a shit.
You could walk down the road with a big massive stupid hat
and people would just go, "Look, there's a guy with a big massive stupid hat."
Sometimes I go to the shops in my pyjamas!
What do you do?
That's a...
That's a really shit question. Sorry.
I'm a night time legal secretary.
Shall we order?
No! Why are you thinking about getting surgery?
I wasn't seriously thinking about it.
Well, maybe just a little bit.
One of the fastest growing areas of surgery
is repairing botched boob jobs.
Yeah, they harden, they rupture, they leak into the body. It's...
- I'm sorry, we've just eaten. - No, don't worry, I'm not squeamish.
Neither am I.
That's good.
What does that mean?
I don't know. I'm really drunk.
You just looked like you were gonna do something really wicked to me later.
No, I just... I meant because...
you're a doctor.
Good, you talked your way out of that one.
Although I am going to do something terrible to you as well later.
Really?
Jolly good. I hope you bought the equipment.
Is that you?
Is what me?
Sorry!
- What? - I'm so sorry.
I didn't know who else to call.
I'm in trouble.
I'm with this guy. He's gone really weird.
I've locked myself in the bathroom,
but I just dunno what to do.
Where are you?
I don't know. I can't remember. My head's gone all funny.
- I can't think straight. - OK, calm down.
Catch your breath.
Was it a hotel?
Can you see any of those toiletries around you?
Those little bottles you get?
- Yeah, OK. - What does it say?
It says the Blakely.
I think I know it. Don't worry, I'm coming over.
- So sorry, I've gotta go. - You all right?
- I'm gonna come with you. - No, you can't.
It's a friend. Sorry.
Thank you. Thanks.
What room? Which floor?
I'm just about to get concierge up here! Open the door!
He left.
You all right?
What happened?
Jesus, I'm having a heart attack!
- I'm so sorry about everything. - Fine, don't worry. What happened?
This guy just opened the door
and he was really quiet,
and I was gonna count the money, but he stopped me,
and I saw the top one was a 20,
but underneath that they were all photocopies.
Not even very good ones.
Was this the man from my email that you replied to?
I knew it.
He told me to take off my clothes, but I wouldn't,
and he got really angry
and he pulled my dress down,
so I ran to the bathroom and he just kept shouting at me.
It's OK. Come on. It's all right.
It's OK.
It's all right.
- We better go. He might come back. - My goodness.
It's OK. It's fine. Come on, just get it together.
It's from ages ago. I try and cover it.
- I didn't mess up your night, did I? - Don't worry.
How did your date go?
Well, he didn't assault me,
so better than yours.
Come on.
You should rethink this.
I know I fucked up, but I can change. I can get like you.
No, you mustn't.
That's exactly the attitude that destroys you in this job.
You can't let it take over, OK? You can't let it change you.
Tell me all about this bloke,
so I can alert the other girls on the net.
Can I maybe stay with you tonight?
I know the job is kind of taking over my life.
And now it's taking over other people's.
But there's one thing that's normal about me.
One thing that's Hannah's, not Belle's.
Well, two things...
and maybe I shouldn't let them go.
This is the kind of girlfriend I can be.
What do they want?
I hope you're thinking about me.
- I can't go out with you. - He's my husband.
It's fucking over.
It's nice to know I have this affect on people.