I always thought that at age 19 I'd be in college. Maybe in one of those bullshit sororities partying with nasty frat boys and drinking from a keg, but here I am. 19 and dancing for money. A fake name, faker eyelashes, with a friend, lover, and cus...
"Shut up!" I say choking on a laugh as Justin tells me a story about how some girl threw him a pair of granny panties while he was performing.
"I'm so fucking serious! I wanted to die!" I find myself laughing, really laughing, not the fake shit I usually do with some of my customers. Our laughter dies down and a comfortable silence falls over us. I'd preformed for him despite my initial shock at 'just Justin' from the night before being Justin Bieber.
"So. What's your real name?" I take a sip of the fruity drink he'd insisted we share and give a great big sigh.
"Are you trying to ' Pretty Woman' me?" I accuse and he raises an eyebrow before leaning closer to me over the bar.
"Will it work?" I eye the bartender, Celsa, and he follows my movement and calls her over.
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"I've got to get her tipsy so she'll tell me her life story" he jokes and Celsa, who's usually hardcore and sassy cracks a grin,
"good luck with that" she tells Justin and he slips her a fifty. Moments later two huge margarita glasses are placed in front of us and I'm about to take a sip when Justin swipes it away.
"Hey!" I yell indignantly and he only smirks before taking a huge gulp.
"This is a shit way to get me to open up" figuratively and literally I think to myself. He holds my drink hostage and I make a show of reaching for it but he only pulls it farther and farther away. Damn he's got some long arms.
"A secret for a drink" Justin bargains and the margarita that Celsa mixed looks so good that I simply can't resist.
"Deal" I say and he plays with the straw a few times. with a look of pure concentration decorating his handsome face.
"What's your name?" I laugh evilly inside of my head,
"Seven" I say confidently and he frowns and I take his momentary distraction to grab my drink. Mmm. Kiwi mango.
"You're a cheater!" He accuses and I can only shrug and sip at the icy drink.
" My turn" he rolls his eyes and begins to protest,
"Anything you want to know about me you can google"
"the internet isn't always right" he shrugs and I take that as a sign of defeat.
"Why are you in a strip club Justin Bieber?" Justin looks a little taken aback. So I continue,
"don't you have a girlfriend?" He looks uncomfortable and I'm sure I've hit some kind of nerve.
"It's complicated" is all he says, but my curiosity is peaked,
"How so?" He gives a charming grin and shakes his head several times.
