Manipulate [h.s]

04

Stevie Coles

I rummaged through my locker in search of a safety pin, my lace bustier had torn at the shoulder strap. It had cost too much to throw out already. Theo would grumble out how it looked 'unprofessional' but in fairness, the men were so busy wondering what was beneath my clothes they barely noticed what I was even wearing.

My strawberry lotion dropped to the floor and popped all over my slippers. I sucked in a sharp breath, clenching my fists in annoyance, another expense to add to the list. My fur-lined slippers were slightly crusted with the pink cream, but it was nothing a bit of water couldn't fix. On the other hand, half the tube had to be tossed in the bin. It was about time I replaced it anyway. No matter how much I avoided spending money on more products, it was a necessity for work.

"Here use this instead," Ivy passed me a small sewing kit, I sighed in relief. My sewing skills were basic at best, but they did the job. Thankfully, my fingers remained unscathed, no blood drawn.

When one of the girls mentioned getting Theo to check out the sprung leak in the bathrooms, I darted away to our sound technician. I told Mark my requests for the songs of the night, ensuring I had long enough breaks in between. After leaving early last night I would be required to make up for my lost hours with the customers I had blown off, complaints never ended well. Especially not when I was sure Theo was already pissed at me.

Cherry found me a few hours after our rehearsal, hidden in the curtain watching a movie. The wifi at the club was so much better than mine, I was actually able to reach pirating websites. It even sometimes felt like I was in a cinema with the blackout curtain wrapped around me.

"Theo's been looking for you all afternoon," she whispered, weaseling her way into the little hollow I had created for myself. I had used a few boxed to prop up the roof, my little hideaway barely visible to anyone walking past.

I mutter a curse beneath my breath. "How pissed did he look?" When Theo got mad his face grew redder and redder, it was common knowledge that when he reached the shade of a tomato you got the fuck out of his way.

"Only mildly," I knew she was lying immediately but I gave her a grateful smile. I uncurled my legs and gave her a grimace; she offered a weak smile. My plan had been to wait out his anger and let him mellow out, but it seemed I wasn't able to escape it this time.

Theo caught me in the hallway between the dressing room and his office. He pointed a fat finger at my face from the opposite end and strode towards me with large steps. I only straightened my spine and leveled him with a challenging look, unwilling to let him force me to cower.

"He left early," Theo boomed, "Before we were even able to discuss business propositions." A drop of saliva flew in my face. That made me wince, another memory flashing through my head. I refocused on the finger Theo shoved in my face, fat and pudgy, not crooked and thin.

"Maybe it was for the best," I muttered under my breath, quiet enough to ensure Theo was unable to hear my sarcastic remark. It would only set him off more and the best thing to do in this situation was waiting out his rage.

Theo wasn't the most fearsome man when he was angry and that was because he had never raised a hand against any of us. He may be creepy and possibly deranged but violent, definitely not. Other's clubs I had worked in left some girls with frequent bruising and marks, Theo had never been abusive to any of us and I think that's why most of us still stayed. The money was poor, but the meager safety was more than other clubs offered.

"His partnership was the best business all year," I lost track of the rest of his yelling. Partnership? Harry had been interested in buying into the club. That made no sense. The club made no profit, all its earning drained by Theo. It was a train wreck and definitely not a business somebody like Harry Styles would buy into.

Harry was known for owning clubs scattered about town, he had one not far down the street. Co-owned and managed by sleazy scumbags but with his name plastered on the front of them. A money-making business is how he had built a name for himself. Our club was far from money-making if anything it would damage his large funds. No wonder Theo was livid, the money Harry would offer to this club would make anyone greedy.

"If Mr Styles returns you are to issue an immediate apology and ensure Cherry gives him a much more pleasant experience," Theo snapped his fingers in front of my face, drawing my attention back to him. It was an effort to contain my snort of amusement, but I nodded placidly anyway.

Immediate apology? I really wanted to laugh. The only thing I would be issuing Mr Styles was a slap across the face to remind him how to be professional. What he had instituted was degrading and very rude, not surprising though I suppose. It wasn't uncommon to be treated that way by any visitors, I guess I'd been hoping his pretty mouth was better than the rest.

It wasn't.

Theo left me alone after that. The night was relatively slow, and the earning were low. That wasn't a surprise for a Wednesday night, the weekends were usually the best for business. It was easier for cheating husbands to leave for a 'business trip' over the weekend I suppose.

I'd only been requested for two private dances, a very slow night indeed. For me at least. None of my frequent customers had been there either. One man had quickly got too gropy and had to be escorted out by security, not after Theo demanded payment that I only received a small percentage of. I was in no mood to complain and receive another verbal bashing, so I shut up and just left it. An argument for another day.

Cherry walked home with me. Her apartment another two blocks down. I hadn't wanted to risk walking home again; it was better to be careful. The night air was cold, and a shiver ran down my spine. I pulled my cardigan tighter around me and Cherry blew into her frosted palms.

There was a white notice on the inside of my apartment's lobby door. In dark bold black letters, the word EVICTION was written across the top of the paper. I stared in dumfound confusion, my landlord had spoken to me three weeks ago and she hadn't mentioned anything. Everybody had a month of notice to be packed up and left before the entire building was bulldozed.

Cherry shot me a grim look, "If you need to crash at mine for a bit my couch is always free." I gave her a grateful smile and shook my head.

"No, it's no worry, I have other options," I bid her goodnight and rushed to my apartment before she called me up on my lies. I had no other option; we both knew it.

For the rest of the night, I spent hours counting my savings, twice, before finally settling on a horribly small sum. I sighed and dropped my head in my hands. It was enough to afford something probably worse than what I had now, not nearly as secure. I'd be losing the deadbolt lock I purchased and the double-glazed glass.

I swore a few times, feeling sorry for myself before making a cup of hot chocolate with a sachet I pinched from the club. My microwave barely heated the milk, it was just hotter than lukewarm but it made me feel better. Meredith curled up with me on the couch, climbing onto my lap. She always knew when I needed her nearby for comfort.

A month. I couldn't believe it.

Three weeks ago, my landlord was discussing extending my lease and suddenly the entire building was being torn to the floor. The makeshift skatepark next door was going to. Whoever was purchasing all the land was eager to create something large, probably another casino.

I started at my phone, wishing there were somebody to text. Cherry offered her couch but by the time I saved enough to buy a better apartment I would be in her apartment for months; I couldn't ask her to do that. I knew nobody else; my estranged family weren't an option.

Sifting through the junk mail I had retrieved from my mailbox I eyed the odd jobs at the back. A few years back I had been working two jobs, but the restaurant company had gone under and I hadn't been able to get the right daytime hours since. The club's hours interfered too much for a part-time job. I surveyed the few openings on the back page, unable to handle power tools there wasn't a single opening for me to take up.

I tossed the papers away and turned in for the night hoping it was all some awful dream.

When I woke up in the morning nothing had changed.