"Thank you, sir, you are too kind." The slightly muffled voice of my elderly neighbor, Sue, echoes from outside my door. With my keys in hand, I pull the door open to notice that she is waving mindlessly up the hall. As I step out, Sue smiles at me.
"Good afternoon, Cali, you off to work?" I shift a little from where I'm standing and glance in the direction she's facing, wondering who she was speaking with. "I sure am, Sue." I smile back at her, noticing 3 large bags at her feet. "Ah, who were you talking to?"
"Oh, I was thanking the kind sir who helped me with my groceries again. He is—" she pauses at the still empty hall. "Well, he was just here."
"Let me help you get those inside." I take the bag she is struggling to carry as I check the hall again, which is quite long and narrow. We are situated at the very end of our building, so the person surely would still be around here somewhere. Nevertheless, I shrug at her oddness, since it really wasn't that unusual for her. Last week she was telling me about some new kitty litter she bought for her cat that has been dead for almost 3 years. I enter her apartment, knowing the rooms off by heart, since it is set out the same as mine. You enter a small combined lounge dining area, with a kitchen to one side and one bedroom and bathroom to the other. I set the bag on her small, wooden table and quickly retrieve the other two. The air has a thick, musty scent to it. A strong presence of moth balls also makes my nose twitch. I walk over to the window of the lounge area and go to open it.
"Darl, don't bother. It's jammed closed again." I watch as she takes some tins from one of the bags and stacks them neatly under the sink.
"I will get it fixed for you tomorrow. You really need some fresh air in here. Would you like a hand to put this stuff away?" I grab a tin of tuna from the table.
"No, no, I'll be fine. I don't want to make you late for all those children." She takes the can from my hand. "Thank you, now run along." She potters over to the sink and I make my way back out to the hall. I've never had the heart to tell her that I'm not, and never have been a teacher. Children are not for me.
With our lift still broken for yet another year, I take the stairs down to the foyer, and head out the front doors. The afternoon sun is blinding but I blink it away as my eyes slowly adjust; the sound of doors slamming and people fighting, rings ambient in the background. Yeah, this neighborhood may not be the city of dreams, but at least it's got a strong... culture. I turn the corner and a prickly sensation sweeps my neck. If I was to put my finger on it, I'd say there was someone following me. With only another 2 blocks until I'm at work, I brush it off and pick my pace up slightly. Normally something like this wouldn't bother me, but this felt different. I round the next corner and jump out of the way as two govs tackle a rough looking guy to the cracked, moss covered sidewalk.
"Don't move. If you resist, this will only make things worse," one of the govs commands as he cuffs the man. A few more paces up the street and a homeless guy clinks his rusty cup of coins at me. He is sitting on a torn piece of cardboard, with a weathered knitted blanket draped over his shoulders. I take a bill from my purse and slip it to him for the second time in the past week. He was a postal worker for most of his life. I've always felt saddened for how the system failed him after retirement. I pass yet another concrete mass of apartments and wonder how different it would be to walk through a street of houses with gardens and yards.
I arrive at work and pull open the employee's entrance door. There's a hum from the music playing out front, buzzing through the walls. I continue past the kitchen and enter the change room. It's not too grand, there's a set of lockers on one side, a few small, mirrored vanities along the back and a square polished wooden table in the center. Unable to shake the lingering weird feeling, I slip my jacket off then remove my jeans mindlessly. With little thought as to which pair, I grab some heels from my locker. Upon exiting the room, I pass by 2 kitchen guys who are trying desperately to flirt with a table girl. I continue walking and trace my fingers along the tattered posters of the hallway, which leads to the back room.
"It's pretty quiet out there, good luck," Jess, a day shift worker comments, as she passes by me. I take a black boa from a nearby stand and check my makeup in the full-length mirror. I stand and wait for my music cue.
The electronic beats from the song playing creates a mesmerizing trance. I slink through the velvet curtains and pace the faded violet stage, like it's my runway. I slip the fur boa off my shoulders and thrust it between my legs, making the whole room focus on one thing—me.
Eye contact is the key as so much of a person can be read through their eyes and reading them is simple. In my line of work, you tend to pick up a few tricks which can help with tips, especially knowing your customers. You have the lonely guys who want to be noticed are the married ones who want some extra attention. You get the partying guys, who stumble in drunk and pass out, hunched over a table. Lastly, the shy ones, wearing baggy clothes and sit in the corners. I have been doing this for a long time, so it's easier to spot the big tippers. These are the ones you want to draw in and have begging for more.
Every ounce of my focus is fixed on trying not to lose my grip on the pole. Sweat isn't your friend when trying to hold yourself upright on smooth steel. Slowly, I ease myself down and sink onto the floor. My now soaked, fiery red hair is a mess and I push it back away from my face, mentally cursing the ridiculous heat from the lack of air-conditioning. Willie, the owner of this dive rarely spends a dime on maintenance.
Working with what I've got, I forget the pole and do my best to make sweaty look sexy. A few flicks of my thong and seductive mouth gestures are great distraction. The song is wrapping up, and every guy is lingering around the stage. But one in particular, is seated in the back corner. Not being able to place his face, I assume it must be his first time here. If he wants a show, then I may as well give him one.
A guy in a nice button up has slipped more than enough bills my way tonight, so I choose him. I crawl slowly towards his way and notion with my finger for him to come up on the stage. He climbs up, eagerly hurrying towards me. My hand meets his chest, stopping him. I push him backward with a little force, allowing me to straddle his waist. With my knees either side of him, I place my hand on his chest, so he is lying flat on his back. With my other hand, I undo my red lacy bra and let it fall off. The guy is now thoroughly enjoying himself, as is most of the crowd. His bulge enlarges between my thighs and I lean down letting my breasts tease his face, causing him to grin excitedly.
"Careful, baby, wouldn't want you making a mess now." I taunt him with a hushed voice, gently brushing my lip over his ear lobe. My eyes dart towards the back of the room and I see my admirer shift his position. He stands up and his searing gaze connects with my eyes for a brief moment, just before his full-length trench coat brushes against the floor as he disappears out the front entrance. I get this strange feeling from him and it makes me cautious. A sense of uneasiness washes over me, similar to the one I had on my way here, causing my stomach to tense. Guys come here to see me dance, but it was as if he was studying me. I reach for my bra and scoop up the last of my tips, disappearing through the back curtain. A giggle a little about leaving the guy in bliss on the stage.
"They're all yours Tina," I encourage her, lightly slapping the fishnet covering her ass as I slip past her.
"Cali, I don't know how you do that girl!" she exclaims, lacing up her white, thigh high boot. "You always get them guys in such a state, I'm jealous."
"Pure skill." I gloat, poking my tongue out at her.
I head toward the nearest freezer and try my hardest not to climb inside. It's hard to explain the rush you get from entertaining a crowd, and it always takes me a while to come down once I get off stage. Most of the other girls here are good at what they do and bring in a large volume of customers. However, lately, it has been a heck quieter than normal. This is mostly to do with the fact the girls are steering clear of the pole. One of the dancers, Avalon, slipped and sprained her wrist a few nights ago. Willie needs to wake up to himself because if he fixes the air, then us girls will make him more money. He said it would be done by last week, yet, we're still melting.
I exhale and lean back against the wall. Deep down I know that I need to get out of this hole and find a decent place to work, but everyone here is family. Sometimes it feels these few people are all I have left. For years it had been just me and dad, he always did his best, but we butted heads so much when I was a teenager. I felt I had no control over anything and it was as if he had this irrational fear of the world outside our front doors.
I have been alone for what seems like forever. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I have a curse hanging over me, making it hard to let in anyone new. I shake away the looming dark thoughts and realize my body is now cooled down enough to pursue my next mission... Willie. My skin is still somewhat damp, but that doesn't stop me from barreling into his office without any hesitation.
"We are literally dying out there!" I yell. "If you don't cool this place down, then me–and most of those girls–are gone." His smug grin widens as he hangs the phone up and stalks toward me like a sleazy panther. His office is its usual filthy mess. There's paperwork strewn across his desk and boxes of files are stacked in the corners. My nose scrunches from the heavy cloud of cheap cigar smoke that lingers lifelessly.
"I love when you're feisty, it's sexy," he purrs. He raises one brow and goes to slap my ass. I quickly grab his wrist mid-air, stopping him before his palm connects with my skin. Then, I pin his hand to the rough wooden desk, taking a handful of what little manhood he has in the ridiculous bright green sweats he lives in. My eyes sharpen, holding a firm gaze I start to twist.
"Does it look like I'm kidding around here?" I shudder as the scent of his drug store cologne wafts off him.
"Relax babe, that was Mikey on the phone. A new air-con unit is being delivered as we speak," he squeaks out. I hate it when he calls me babe.
"We are getting fed up with killing ourselves out there for you, fix it. Oh, and don't call me babe again!" I release him from my grip, leave his office and slam the door behind me. He makes me feel dirtier than any guy I have ever danced for.
In desperate need of some fresh air, I head straight to the locker room and grab one of my torn, oversized favorite band shirts which comes halfway down my thighs. Before I can escape, my attention is drawn to a commotion coming from the front area. Kiera, a peppy little blonde is on stage and she is a newbie here. She hasn't mastered the art of dealing with sleazebags yet, so, I should probably go check on her.
The room out front is dark as I enter, and the music's now a low hum. Over at the tables near the stage area, I hear a loud voice, coupled with a whimper. Gabe, the security guard, is dragging an almost incoherent guy by his collar out the door. I hear Kiera squeal and hurry towards her, finding a pudgy grug trucker in torn flannel. His boulder like hand is gripping her ankle firmly.
Grugs can be real nasty. They always remind me of oversized hogs and have an excessively hairy chest with slightly pointed ears to go with it. I shove my way past the other guys who are keen on seeing the action.
"Oi, Darlin, you be givin' me the extra what I paid fer." His voice is slurring and it's visible that he has had way too much tonight. The smell of stale alcohol is fuming off him, not to mention he can hardly stand up straight. Without hesitating, I tap his shoulder and as he turns around, I plant one straight between his eyes. He falls down, and I ever so gently put my heel in his crotch.
"If you want extra buddy, then go home to your wife. Unless she won't even put out for pig scum like you." Before removing my foot, I 'accidentally' apply a little more pressure, then ensure he crawls back to the hole he came from. Once he's out of sight, I reach out and help Keira up. Gabe clears away the small crowd that gathered, and Keira runs off out back. I trail behind her and grab a blanket from the backroom cupboard.
"Here sweetie, you okay?" I ask, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. She nods, and I take a seat beside her on the couch. The small room beside our lockers has some old, brown cloth couches, and a refrigerator that's wedged up with a brick. It's our zone away from the craziness of working here.
"Thanks, Cali," she sniffles. "I'm sorry, I froze up when he grabbed me, and I didn't know what to do." Her tears continue to roll down her cheek. She tightens her arms around the waist of her pale pink corset.
"Hey, don't stress. Trust me, it comes with the gig. Soon enough you will be able to take on guys like him, easily." I reassure her warmly. Some nights guys come in and you can tell they're bad news. They have this attitude where they perceive women to be nothing but dirt and can treat them however they see fit.
"Honey, you're going to get your ass kicked one day," Trinity warns me. She hands us both a bottle of water before plonking down on the other side of Keira.
"When's this day coming, cause I could use a good fight," I gloat, placing the bottle on the back of my neck, relishing in its coolness. Tina, who has now changed into her sweatpants and tank top, takes a seat across from Keira.
"You okay, darl?" She offers Keira another tissue.
"You girls are all so sweet, I'm pathetic. Everyone fussin' over me, I'm sorry." Keira takes the tissue and dabs her eyes.
"One thing you will learn real quick here, is that we all look out for each other. I don't know about you, but Cali, she has made me feel safer in here than anyone outside those doors." Tina points at me, and I'm truly flattered by her words.
"Hell, this bitch here literally had a guy by the throat and had the others scampering for their lives, the night I met her. If it wasn't for her badass, I hate to think what would have happened," Trinity tells everyone. I think back to the incident she's referring to. Some dicks had her pinned down in an alley not far from here. I bought her in to get cleaned up, and she never left.
"Hey, he shouldn't have tried to grab my ass, and walked away." I add, causing everyone to laugh. It's moments like this, that remind me how important these girls are. Now that Keira is calmed down enough, I jump up, grab my bag and head out the back door.
As I step out, the crisp air slams into me and it feels amazing. I drop my bag and lean back against the brick wall, peering up at the few stars you can see. Rifton really isn't the worst place on the planet to live. Glass smashing, sirens and screaming make up most of the background noise. We all have this dream growing up, that living in New Lancer, the capital city, is where you go when you've made it. But it would mean I'd need to have a little more talent than dancing. I bend down and slip off my heels, allowing my feet to flex.
The thing is, most of the people who live there are stuck up, over wealthy families. There's also stuff like rent, which alone would cost me a few organs to afford.
"You handled yourself well in there." A strong voice echoes off the walls. My eyes dart towards a guy who sticks out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. With the low alley lighting, I can make out his shiny shoes and perfectly styled hair. He walks towards me with a purpose in his step. Upon a closer scan, I see he is wearing a dark brown, full-length trench coat. It's hanging open, which compliments his tall stature. I nod, then remember the coat—he's the guy who was sitting up the back watching me dance.
"I'm Thane," Mr. Persistent adds.
"You don't look like the kind of guy to be in a place like this," I state cheekily, while trying to work out if I need to retrieve the Taser from my bag.
"I could say something similar to you." He eyes off the shiny red 7-inch heels swinging from my hand.
"I like doing what I do. What's it to you anyway?" My words are more of a statement than a question, because I don't care what Mr. Privileged's opinion of me is. He joins me against the wall and his closeness causes a shiver to roll down my back. The aroma coming from him is incredible, making it so much easier to be next to him. I look him over again and try to pinpoint what makes him so intriguing. There's something about him that doesn't make me want to flee.
"You ain't a vamp, are you? Cause I danced for one a while back and the creep couldn't keep his fangs in." I notice a smirk spread across his firm lips. He holds a strong gaze and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to pull my eyes away.
"What I am is not important, but why I'm here, is," he replies. Our eyes continue a magnetic dance, drawing me in deeper and deeper.
"So, why are you here then?" I ask, after a pause, I may as well play along with his little game.
"Questions, questions. First, let me ask you one. Why do you do this?" He gestures towards the building behind us. Before I reply, a thought crosses my mind that it's none of his business. Though, the question does make me ponder the reason. Why do I dance around half naked in front of guys? It's not because it pays well, that's a bonus. Most look at us, dancers, strippers, call it what you will, and preach how we are degrading ourselves or should be ashamed. For me, however, this isn't the case.
"When I'm on stage I feel powerful, in control. It's exhilarating." I inhale deeply while having a fond flashback from earlier tonight.
"What if I told you there was a reason why you were drawn to this kind of," he pauses and looks as though he is trying to find a word, "lifestyle?" His gaze intensifies as he holds his stare, waiting for my reply.
"Look, buddy, you seem nice, but it's not really any of your business what I do or don't do." I state, irritated that he's trying to involve himself in something which has nothing to do with him. I start to head back towards the door, but before I leave, I try to make something very clear. "You rich guys come in here thinking we need saving. That some knight in shining armor, sweeping in to rescue me will save the day. But you don't know a thing about me or the life I live." I almost feel a bow is necessary after my grand speech—I'm certain my point was made. To be honest, he isn't the first guy to do this and probably won't be the last.
"I'm sorry if I'm coming on too strong, you're my first." He now moves away from the wall and his posture firms. Whoa, back it up there, first? First what? My hand is now reaching for that Taser. I shoulda known he was all polished for a reason.
"I don't know what kind of sick thing you're into, but you picked the wrong girl." My stance becomes hostile and my brain instantly starts running through ways to take him down.
"That weapon won't be necessary, and the instinct you have right now, is one of the things I'm here about," he adds, calmly. Every fiber of my body starts questioning his motives, but me being me, I continue to play along with him some more—I'm baffled by my stupidity sometimes.
"All I ask is you come with me. After I show you what I need to, the decision will be yours." Without another word, he turns and walks away.
If he wanted to kidnap or kill me, this sure was a bizarre way of doing it. My heart speeds up as I toy with the options, but I already know my head has made the choice.
"Hun, what are you doing out here? It's almost your set," Trinity scoffs, from the now open door.
"I'm actually not feeling the best. Could you pretty please cover for me?" I bite my tongue from my quick lie. Her eyes narrow slightly, questioning my weird behavior.
"Alright, but you owe me. I'll check on you in the morning, be safe," she finally says. I give her a hug and kiss her cheek goodbye. I jog towards where Thane is waiting up near the main road.
"Fuck, Cali, that's it, follow the mysterious stranger down a dark alley." After cursing myself, I let out a long breath. This is probably not one of my brightest moves. I mean, who lets themselves be led off by a sexy, could be a rapist or possibly a well-dressed murdering creep?