Tied to the devil

To new beginnings

Hi everyone 😊

Once again thank you for even looking at this book, I randomly decided to write this one day and I guess here I am. So, this is kind off spur of the moment. I appreciate anyone who reads this because I'm not expecting many people to anyway 🤦‍♀️😁

FTR thingy here, I only worked out what that actually stands for yesterday. 🙇‍♀️

Maia POV

Its finally the end of my shift. I hate my job; it wasn't what I expected I would be doing at 21.

Dancing in front of drunk men so I can get their money; I use it to put food on the table, whilst they can splurge it on strippers at a club. Life is so unfair. I may have grown up rich, but it's different now; I don't have a bank account full of fathers money.

Pleasing rich men on a day-to-day basis, who the fuck would want to do that?

When I was younger, I dreamt of becoming a ballerina and dancing for thousands of people at the Metropolitan Opera house. My passion has always been dancing- it is all I have ever wanted to do.

I can just imagine the audience watching me with pure intensity, intrigued as my body creates a story as I move. There stares lifting me up like helium, encouraging me to perform to my fullest potential and show them my love for the art.

My heart would pound in my chest as the adrenalin pumps through my veins as all thoughts leave my mind and my body takes control, the movements flowing into one another seamlessly.

I guess I got my wish just not the way I wanted.

I walk out of the club to the wet air of New York; the streets are empty at this time in the morning, I just want to take these stupid heels off that are digging into my skin and go to bed. I hate my boss for giving me this outfit, he is disgusting he looks at me like I am a sex toy not a woman- fucking prick.

The club has been slow tonight, so I only got 100 something bucks, I'm already late on my rent and water bill, my landlord is going to kill me. I've already done the whole living on this street's thing, wouldn't recommend.

I can't end up homeless again.

I hold my hand up to call for a taxi, the car stops abruptly next to the sidewalk, I open the door and step inside. "Where would you like to go gorgeous?" the man slurs. Gorgeous. Of course. Men call me gorgeous, beautiful, slut, whore and all the names under the sun on a daily basis, I have just gotten used to being undermined at this point.

Accepting and ignoring. That's how I deal with their derogatory remarks. I still don't like it though. What makes them think it's okay to comment on my body?

I have given up on fighting society and I am really tired and want to get home, so I just settle into the back seat disregarding the rude drivers' words. "Downtown Brooklyn please" I say with a sarcastic tone.

I am not usually a weak, submissive girl; actually, I am far from it I hate letting people walk all over me just because of my gender.

I am stronger than they all think.

The drive felt like forever as I stared up at the skyscrapers making me feel so insignificant in this city. Stars light up the night so peaceful out in the silence of space. Sometimes I wish I was all alone miles away from Earth escaping my harsh reality.

Once I arrive at the apartment building, I pay the driver with the few bucks I made tonight at the club and walk to my door. The door is unlocked as it has been broken since I got this place in the apartment complex, I have called my landlord about it, but he does shit all.