Achilles Heel |h.s|

01. The Butterfly Effect

Today was going to be my first day at the Butterfly Effect, one of the most elite strip clubs that lined the streets of South London. The club was only a fifteen-minute walk from my studio apartment and a six-minute drive but I considered the walk my daily exercise. Before I knew it, my feet brought me to the entrance of the club where the bouncer gave me a soft smile. He was a big man with a shiny bald head, a lot like Mr. Clean but I swore he was a teddy bear on the inside. The bouncer—whom I learned was named Fred was a thirty-six-year-old who had a history in the military. Fred had been dishonourably discharged because he started a fistfight with a fellow soldier. The other soldier had been accused of rape but Fred knew he wasn't just accused. There was truth to it. The girl who reported the man was a fellow comrade. Fred knew how much courage it took to report rape when the military was chock full of men.

When I met him the other day, the first thing he did was wrap me up in the biggest hug. I'm not one for close contact with a stranger but I immediately felt protected in his presence. Fred had sat me down and explained exactly how the place worked. Fred was very thorough, explaining that the club had multiple exits and the highest form of technology. The security cameras recorded sound and had night vision. He made sure to emphasize the fact that the VIP rooms also had cameras. It would be our word against a client if anything were to go awry. I had been preconditioned to believe that most strip clubs didn't care about their workers, however, this particular club exceeded my expectations in every way.

My hands slowly smoothed down the length of the tight, red plush bodycon dress that I had on. The dress had thin straps which made it impossible to wear a bra but thankfully I appreciated my body. It was something I had struggled with for years until I realised that there wasn't a reason to hate the very thing that others loved. If they could see it, why couldn't I? I snapped myself from my inner thoughts and let my eyes wander over the furniture, taking in the seats that sat near the stage. Between the seats was a small wooden table that held an ashtray and had enough room for two drinks. On either side of the stage were two curtained hallways, a security guard at each. One hallway would lead up to the second floor where the private rooms were.

The private rooms were for those whose pockets were endless. From my memory of the blueprint, the second floor contained a secret emergency exit to use in times of distress. Although the emergency exit has never been used. For the other curtained hallway, it led straight to the locker room and dressing room for the girls— also known as Tony's butterflies, hence The Butterfly Effect. Tony Ricardo Genevese. He was the owner of the club and did constant business with none other than Harry Styles. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that Harry worked closely with the Italians yet here I was.

The bass of the sultry song echoed throughout the club, fading slightly as I made my way towards the back room where the lockers were. My hand brushed over the crushed velvet curtain, giving the security guard a nod before I walked into the dimly lit locker room. There was another door off to the side. I could see the faint lights that belonged to vanities along with a blue hue which meant there were LED lights. There were soft voices as well and I could only guess that they were speaking amongst themselves regarding me, the new girl. The one that didn't have to audition.

I know that I shouldn't assume. I'm sure all the girls here are very nice but the moment I entered the room and the sound of the curtain crinkling shut behind me—well, all of the girls went silent at once. I've always been bad at confrontation, tending to shut down when things got quiet or awkward. Considering my job, that was probably unusual. I just didn't like unnecessary confrontation or conversation. Why couldn't everyone just get along for once instead of jumping down each other's throats? What happened to civil conversation? The silence was far too uncomfortable and loud for my liking so I made my way over to one of the lockers, pulling out a lock and key from my Adidas bag. It seemed like every little move I made was loud due to the silence. I was hoping someone would break the awkward tension in the room so I didn't have to be the one to do so but no one seemed to move from their spots. I made quick work of removing myself from the outfit that I had arrived in, getting rid of the grey sweatpants that clung to my thighs and the snug black turtleneck.