Terria "Pinkie Dime" White.
I was jamming to Beyonce & Nicki Minaj's Feeling Myself, until it was my turn to do a performance.
"Laaaddiiies annnd gentlemennn, please welcome to the stage the one, the only Ms. Pinkie Dime!" DJ Ransom yelled.
As the other stripper, sashayed her way off the stage, she side eyed me, I didn't care.
Chris brown's Love Some More blared through the speakers.
I walked slowly on the main stage, swinging my pink hair to the side and started to pop my ass to the beat.
People threw money at me. I didn't tolerance that touchy feely shit, no.
I dropped down to a split and started to grind on the money that filled the stage.
10 or so minutes later, I was finished so, I took my time and collected all my money.
____
Backstage, all you see is naked women and money scattered.
I counted mines.
"450, 528, 690, 732." I counted.
"You did good, Dime."
Chyna said to me fingercombing her blonde hair.
"Thanks." I said in my country accent.
She walked away and I stuffed my money in my black duffle bag.
I draped it on my left shoulder and made my way to my locker.
I changed my work uniform to me custom black and White outfit and my black and White low top Concord's. I left my hair down and left.
YOU ARE READING
Ghost Rida. | Urban.
Mystery / ThrillerDime was a stripper. Making HELLA money. Getting a lot of publicity. Until, Ghost. Miami's greatest and the most dangerous kingpin. Don't fuck with him. Read the rest to see how they met... (Yo. I'm not real good with the background to the story. ju...
