Chapter Thirteen

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Harry

"I need to learn how to fucking mix drinks," I burst into Cara's apartment, flustered.

Kendall blinked up at me from where she was perched on Cara's lap. "Uh, were busy,"

"Okay, cool," I pushed her off the couch, hearing her land on the ground with a satisfying thud, "You bitches got me into this mess and you're going to get me out of it,"

I'd put it off for nearly the entire week and the guys were coming to the club tomorrow.

Steven still has me working the private rooms tomorrow night. Shit. I need to call his crusty ass. I need to get the hookups at the bar. Good thing he owes me a favor. Also, I need to work in the girls room. Gross.

"Harry, are you sure you can't just tell him the truth?" Cara asked, helping a scowling Kendall up off the ground, "You love when you get booked for private rooms."

"Yeah, I know, but I would love it even more if my boyfriend didn't find out I'm a fucking slut that takes off my clothes for money,"

"How could he not know, you literally move like a stripper, you have long hair, and you wear fucking body glitter," Kendall motioned to me.

"What does my hair have to do with anything?" I pouted.

"It's stripper hair," she hissed. Alright, maybe I pissed her off by knocking her over.

"He thinks I'm a virgin," I sat down next to them.

The two burst into laughter. Absolute, hysterical, crying laughter.

"No way!" "He does not" "that's ridiculous!"

"Okay you guys, I get it," I rolled my eyes.

"No, seriously, you? A virgin?" They broke into hysterics again.

"Okay shutup! I know I'm a whore," I repressed the urge to throw Kendall off the couch again, "And I've been sex-deprived ever since the fucker moved in next door to me,"

"Sooooo, just fuck him?" Cara offered like it were obvious.

"Uh, no," I shook my head, "Even if I did, he'd try to go all gentle and stuff because he thinks I'm a virgin and he's a nice person," I felt a small smile form on my lips. Slow and passionate would be nice. On the other hand, I really do want him to fuck me hard and fast.

"Why are you lying to him so much?" One of them asked, I couldn't find it in me to differentiate.

"Do you really think he'd want an old, used up stripper?" I rolled my eyes. I'm pretty much useless for anything besides my body.

"Hey, hey, hey," Cara pulled me closer to her, in between the two girls, "Your not old and your not used up,"

"I'm a fucking slut," I groaned, feeling tears fall down my face. I hadn't even realized I was crying.

"Have you ever thought of quitting?" Kendall suggested, stroking my back comfortingly.

"Where else would I work?" That was a really dumb suggestion. Everyone knows that I love dancing probably more than I love my own mother.

"Welllllllll, my friend owns another club down the street, a strictly gay club, I could get you a spot," Kendall pointed out.

"How will that be any better than working at Steven's place," it was literally the same exact thing.

"None of his sleezy friends can come in and see you dancing,"

"Oh," I smiled, "Oh,"

I do like this plan. I still get to dance, and there's less of a chance that Louis will find out.

"I would miss you guys though," I pouted, "You guys and all the other girls," it seemed like an almost perfect plan until now. I wouldn't know anyone at the new club.

"There's some nice guys there," she patted my back. "Tomorrow after you serve some kick ass drinks to the lads you can talk to Steven about quitting,"

"And you'll talk to your friend about getting me a slot?" I replied, this will only work if everything falls into place perfectly.

"I'll call them right after we teach you how to mix drinks like you've been doing it your whole life." Cara grabbed my hand and dragged me into the kitchen with Kendall following behind us.

•••••

Shit what the fuck.

FUCK
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
FUCK
Fuck.

Fuck.

"Hey Steven," I placed a smile on my lips, hoping to butter him up, "Is there anyway I could work the bar for, maybe I don't know, twenty minutes or so tonight?"

"Harry..." He started, sounding like he was going to say no.

"I'll give you a lap dance," I begged. Okay, Steve's not attractive, but I need to do this.

I really need him on my good side for this to work out. Just until I put in my two weeks notice. I've officially been accepted into the new club and I start two Saturday's from now.

"Really..?" He mused, like he didn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me either, I never beg for anything. I never even ask for anything.

"I really really really need to work the bar. Just for a little while," I bounced on the balls of my feet a little, "I'll do all the private rooms you want me to and I'll even do drag night if you want me to,"

"Wow, you really want to work the bar," he laughed.

"I do I really really do," I sighed.

"Okay then," he slid his chair out from under his desk, "Get to work,"

I took in a deep breath. Okay, lap dances. I can do this. I do lap dances every night and I know I'm fucking amazing at them. Soooo whatever.

He clicked a button on his laptop and the track they'd put together for when I dance played softly through his computer speakers.

I literally had to suppress the need to roll my eyes. That probably wouldn't get me what I want. 

I sat on his lap, facing him and telling him not to touch, "House rules, sorry," I whispered in my self proclaimed 'stripper-voice', using the same line I always do when I tell people not to touch.

He laughed roughly, placing one of his hands over his mouth instead and enjoying the view as I did what I do best.

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Guess who finally got the plot of this shit figured out???? Me. That's who.

And it's kinda good-ish???????

Hope you guys like what I have planned-ish

Chasing the sun is almost to 40k *cries*
Polite is almost to 10k *sobs*

This story is almost to 500 *breaks down into hysterics*

I'm so glad people actually enjoy my writing it means so much.

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