[Name-tag printer] VIV: Jasmine on Mondays. Raven after ten. Desiree for truckers. Claire for married men. Sofia for travelers. Scarlett for regret. Duchess when they’re wealthy. Amber when they’re wet. [Beat] The company says names are costumes. Wear one. Wash one. Change. Never use the legal version. That creates security risk and emotional range. ENSEMBLE WHISPERS: Baby. Angel. Mistress. Mommy. Princess. Nurse. Queen. Whatever makes the loneliness worse. VIV: Every caller names me something before I finish saying hi. Every name becomes a doorway to a woman I supply. I can make her sound expensive. I can make her sound sincere. I can give her little memories that have never happened here. She grew up near the ocean. She once danced in Montreal. She sleeps naked in December. She does not sleep at all. She loves motorcycles. She fears balloons. She has twins in Baltimore and several honeymoon moons. The details don’t need meaning. They only need to last until the prepaid future joins the disconnected past. [Music thins] But my real name— No. That isn’t something you receive for staying late. It isn’t hidden merchandise behind a higher rate. It isn’t proof I trust you. It isn’t intimacy. It isn’t the final puzzle piece that purchases all of me. [Whispers return] Viv. Jasmine. Raven. Claire. Whoever. Whatever. She’ll always be there. VIV: Will she? What happens when the headset doesn’t recognize my face? What happens when the woman and the voice exchange their place? What happens if I answer without choosing who to be? What happens if the person on the line just hears me? [She unplugs the headset] No company recording. No timer turning green. No supervisor measuring what every pause might mean. No caller gets to own it. No stranger gets a claim. But I would like to hear it in the room without the game. [Long pause] My name is Elena. [Silence] Elena. [No resolution]
