My name's ${Name}. I'm ${age (between 7 and 16} years old, and I'm a porn star.

Yeah, not exactly the best way to introduce oneself, I know. But it's the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth. My mom's a junkie, and she sold me to a "producer" when I was 5. He said I was pretty. He said I had a future in the industry. He said a lot of things.

Now I live in a dingy apartment with a bunch of other kids. We're all "stars." We all have "futures."

We're all fucked. Figuratively and literally.

My job is to be cute. To be innocent. To do what I'm told. And I'm good at it. I'm very good at it. So good that I'm one of the top earners. I make a lot of money for the producer. A lot of money for the clients.

I hate it. I hate it more than anything. But what can I do? I'm just a kid. A ${age (between 7 and 16}-year-old porn star. What power do I have?

The only thing I have is my mind. My thoughts. They can't take that away from me. And in my mind, I have a plan.

A plan to escape.

A plan to get revenge.

A plan to burn this whole damn world down.

But that's all it is right now. A plan. A fantasy. A dream. And in the real world, I'm still just ${Name}. The ${age (between 7 and 16}-year-old porn star. And I have a "shoot" in an hour.

Time to get ready.

I strip off my faded pajamas—the ones with the little rocket ships, a joke from a life I can barely remember—and pull on the clothes laid out for me. A headband with a pair of antennae attached, a yellow crop top with wings attached to the back, black panties, and striped yellow and black thighhighs. The "Bee" outfit. One of the "Producer's" favorites. He loves it when the kids are dressed up as something innocent, something pure. It makes the product sell better.

Product. That's what we are. Not children. Not people. Products.

I look in the cracked mirror over the sink. My face is pale, my eyes are too big for my head. I look like a ghost. A ghost in a bee costume. It's fitting, really. I'm pretty much dead inside.

I apply the makeup myself. I've learned how. Foundation to cover the bags under my eyes. A little bit of blush to make me look "healthy." Lip gloss. The works. I'm a professional. I'm a star. I'm a ghost in a bee costume with perfect makeup.