Vigilante | H.S.

3 | Tips

I woke up to the horrible sound of James's alarm, which went off at 7am every day. James has been my boyfriend for the past four years.

I came home last night to find him already in my apartment waiting for me. I hadn't exactly wanted him to be there when I got home, since I was so tired.

I also didn't know where he got a key from, since I had never given one.

I huffed and rolled over onto my stomach, squishing my face into the pillow, dreading having to get up.

He likes to get up early because he says it helps him be productive, despite him not even having a job. I was not ready to get up, I just wanted to sleep forever.

"Morning babe" He said, starting to rub his hand up and down my back. I could only groan in response, my head hurt from the 3 hours of sleep and the rest of my body hurt from the routines I had performed last night.

I felt the mattress rise on his side before I heard him shuffling about the room, getting undressed before going into the bathroom to use my shower.

After I finally managed to get myself up, which took about fifteen minutes. I made my way into the kitchen to make myself a much needed, big, strong coffee. I boiled the water and put some of the 'extra strong' labelled instant coffee into a mug, before adding the water.

I stood with my back against the counter looking out the window in front of me at the busy New York streets.

I found it fascinating, there were so many people in the city, all with their own lives, their own problems, their own stories. I spent all day surrounded by these people, but I'd never meet them or talk to them.

Sometimes I like to watch their every day interactions and create little scenarios in my head, making each person have their own life and story.

"What the fuck is this?" I heard James yell from the bathroom down the hall.

It's seven in the morning, how could he possibly be mad at me already?

I had no idea what he was talking about, so I put my coffee down and made my way towards him. I could already feel my hands trembling because of his yelling, I got scared easily.

I opened the bathroom door, seeing the clothes that I had left there last night still on the floor. Except James was standing holding the black lace bra I wore at the end of last night.

"What?" I asked, looking at the bra in his hands, he was holding it between two fingers, keeping it away from him as if it was going to hurt him. I noticed that in his other hand he was holding the tips I made last night, that I had taken out of my bra that the guy had stuffed at the end of the routine and with and I'd put them on the sink before showering.

"You fucked someone" He stated, rather than asking. I was slightly taken back by what he said. I had no idea why he would think that. I stared at him in confusion for a moment, before speaking again.

"What?" I said, still slightly shocked by his accusation.

"Where did you get that idea from?" I asked, genuinely so confused. He knew what I did at the club, he didn't like me dancing in front of all those people, and he hated the idea of me giving lap dances.

Obviously, I understood why he hated it, but I'd never cheat on him, I never had any form of attraction to anyone I danced for. It was always an act. It was my Job.

I wasn't one of the dancers who gave hand jobs or blow jobs, and the girls typically didn't fuck any of the men at the club, not that I'd judge them if they did.

"Don't act all fucking innocent, babe, nobody tips this much without getting a good fuck first" He yelled, making me take a step back from him, I hated when he got angry. I bit my lip to stop it from trembling. He scared me sometimes.