Ecstasy

Destitution

"Time to get paid, it's maximum wage

That body belongs on a poster."

- Excerpt from Right Round by Flo Rida

I'm tired, in fact, exhausted, from the people around me. When I enter inside the place for the "first" day of work, the girls are fucking furious when they found out I'm alive. They don't like that I'm coming back to work.

The boss wants to know what is going on but I didn't tell him why. I just told him, like I told Hannah, it's something bad and I'll tell him when I'm ready.

He doesn't pry into it like my previous boss but said that since I was gone for a while and is getting my job back, my dues are going to be doubled.

Haha, just like my fucking rent.

Just great.

Since my arrival, the club has gotten more and more back to its usual self and the customers are happy that they're seeing me more often and even from opening the club is packed because of me.

Why are these people so goddamn attracted to me?

I never understand men sometimes.

I do a brass monkey pole move, sliding down the pole. Men are smiling at me happily, especially since I'm topless.

By the end of the song, I land in a split. I can't help but smile because of the money that's being thrown on me.

Ah, I love being the favorite.

I grab my money and look up to see a familiar man manspreading on the front-row luxurious couch.

I can recognize that man even though I'm being blinded by the bright, colorful lights.

Lorenzo.

My heart beats at the sight of him, especially since he likely watched my entire performance. I quickly calm down though.

I finish grabbing my cash and walk off the stage and into the dressing room. I quickly put my cash into a bag and zip it up, putting it back in the locker.

I close the locker, put back on my top, and moisturize my hands.

I walk out of the dressing room and back into the club area and make eye-contact with Lorenzo. He puts his finger up, pointing towards me, and flick it towards himself.

I decide to listen to him, instead of ignoring him.

I go up to him.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Sit down," he says, patting the seat next to him.

"I can't. I'm technically not allowed to," I tell him. It's the truth. I'm not supposed to sit down with customers, especially because it can cause problems between other people.

Men can become jealous over little things and if I sit with one guy and not with the other then problems can arise and fights break out. I mean it happened before.

"I technically own the place. Sit down, Angel. I'm VIP," he tells me and I roll my eyes, sitting down next to him.

"Are you doing fine?" he asks and I can feel his eyes bore into me but I just keep my attention on Hannah, who's in the front row, dancing on the stage.

"I'm okay."

"Just okay? Are you feeling sick in any way?" I shrug. I don't want to answer him.

"I'm not. I'm just... you know, tired," I explain. I turn to him and he's staring at me with such concern in his eyes that touched my heart in a special way.

"I lost my day job and now I have to work more hours in the strip club. I mean, maybe I could get another job but when they find out I'm a sex worker. Things become different," I explain to him.

The third group finishes and it's time. I need to get ready and make my way back on stage.

I can't deny it, being around him is very comforting.

"Hey, hold up," he says and I turn to face.

He grabs my hand and fishes in his pockets. He gives me four $50 bills.

"Lorenzo-" I begin.

"No. Don't fucking start with it. I gave you it because I didn't tip you before," he tells me.

It makes me smile.

- транс -

Smack!

My ass burns as another man decides it will be a great idea to touch a passing-by stripper.

"Hey, hands off," I demand and quickly walk off.

It's a rule here. Unless you're a VIP and/or pay for a lap dance, you can't touch the strippers.

There is a group that keeps smacking my ass continuously and I repeatedly tell them to stop but they don't listen.

This one man, who I guess is the "leader" of the whole group, keeps doing it and making it a whole joke.

If you're going to harass me, at least tip.

I can tell that they are college boys and I want them to be kicked out because if I tell a bodyguard or my boss, they will be but... they are paying a lot.

The girls will get incredibly annoyed if I ask them to leave and it will cause even more issues between us.

I'm passing around drinks and then I feel a hand come in contact with my ass but this time it hurts. Like a lot.

I can hear the slap sound ricochet in my ear. I wince in pain.

I turn to where it came from and when I see that it's the group of boys, I immediately get enraged.

Why can't men fucking listen?

"I told you to stop fucking touching me!?" I explode, "It's ridiculous that you guys can't listen!"

"Damn. Calm the fuck down," one man complains.

"Anyways, you're a slut. Why wouldn't you like it?" the leader tells me.

"Excuse me?" I ask. The rudeness of this man.

"Look at her! She's a woman and a stripper. What else is she useful for? Sexy, you're here because you want to be and get mad when guys hit on you. Women are fucking whores," he complains, talking to his friend.

I can feel tears forming on the bridges of my eyes. I want to curse them out but keep quiet and just turn around.

I can't even see. Tears are coating my eyes and I'm trying not to let it fall.

I decide to go into a private bathroom and I go into a stall and begin crying. Everyone always believes that women want to work here. Some do but sometimes it is all you have. I was 17, homeless, no GED, nothing. Where else can I work?

Hannah is in the same boat as I am.

It's not like I want to be here. 

❤❤❤

Sorry for the short chapter, I apologize, this chapter is like the only short one.

- ECSTASY -