luxe (sebastian stan)

One

Vanna stood over my shoulder as I signed the check that paid for our rent. Clicking the pen and turning to her, I asked, "Have you ever heard of personal space? It's a pretty nifty concept." She rolled her eyes, swiped the check from my hands, and responded, "Fuck you, I'm an expert at personal space." "Ghosting Todd Henderson for six months does not fall into that category," I stood up from the table and pushed the chair back in, laughing as I heard her tell me to go fuck myself again from the other room.

    Going from the kitchen into the living room, I glanced at Vanna's grandfather clock that decorated an otherwise barren room. Sure, we had a sofa, a TV and entertainment center, but we didn't have anything that really screamed Vanna and Lola live here.

This was slightly intentional in the fact that we didn't want to get too attached to the place. We wanted to be out of it in two years, tops. So far, we have been here for a year and a half and we have yet to make big progress on our dreams, so we might have to extend our deadline.

    The hands on the clock told me that it was 4:30, which meant that we needed to get ready unless we wanted Abram to rip our asses in front of everybody else. Vanna reentered the apartment after giving our landlord the rent and I asked if she was getting ready here or at the club. "Shit," she said, her eyes glued to her phone, "I don't think I have enough time getting ready here. Are you wearing that tonight?" She glanced at my attire, which didn't exactly scream give me tips! I shrugged, "If Abram says anything, I'll just borrow your tank top once you get changed." "Just don't spill beer on it," Vanna said, "I just got this."

As much as I loved working at Holliday's, I definitely did not want to spend the rest of my youth as a strip club waitress. Don't get me wrong, it's good fun. Vanna was one of the dancers so we usually made our rent in one night and then for the rest of the month we put the rest into the bank with one occasional fancy dinner because we deserve it.

But I didn't want this arrangement to be our entire lives. Vanna wanted to move to a quaint little town and open a business and live her life quietly. Since her parents' marriage failed spectacularly, she wanted nothing more than to settle down and have a family of her own, as some sort of reassurance that she's not the cause of her parents' divorce.

I didn't quite know what I wanted to do just yet and I didn't care to pick just one career for the rest of my life. I had a degree in history, but that was more or less because I liked to have a lifetime's knowledge of random things. There was one thing I knew for sure: I wanted to leave this city. I didn't want to stick around and memorize all the streets and alleyways. I didn't want to become a known figure in a small little piece of the world. I wanted to see Italy, Austria, Japan; I wanted to see the rest of the world and figure out where to settle, if there was an ounce of commitment within me.

Vanna ran into her bedroom and grabbed her duffel bag full of costumes as well and two pairs of pleasers pinched between two fingers. I looked at the pairs she brought along and pointed to the creme colored ones, "Those are cute, are those new?" "You can't wear them," she said and I scoffed. "I don't recall asking to borrow them," I grabbed the car keys from the kitchen countertop and opened the door, letting Vanna go out first. "But you're gonna try," she said, "And you're gonna break your ankle like you did last time and Abram's gonna be so pissed at me for allowing you to do your Tyra Banks routine without supervision."

"Then watch me next time," I said as we both walked down the stairs, "It's a fucking spectacular routine, I really perfected it." Vanna opened the door for me as we both left the complex and grinned. "If it's that spectacular, maybe you can cover one of my shifts one day." "Oh fuck no," I laughed, unlocking the Jeep and the both of us slid in, "I only know one dance and it's not even a good one." "Is it the-" "It's the fucking Wagon Wheel Watusi from Burlesque, yes," I said as I sped through the city, trying to make it to Holliday's in time. Luckily, we made it about ten minutes before call time so Abram didn't get the satisfaction of ripping me a new one tonight.