When Angie turned 23, she moved from a small town in Wyoming to Los Angeles, hoping to leave her shitty life behind and start over. Hollywood is the beacon for everyone who wants to make it in the entertainment industry, hoping to become successful...
Words: 2.8 k Warnings: strong language, alcohol, drugs, mentions of sex (check out my foreword if you want to know what to expect) A/N: first chapter of my new story! I'm very excited to share this with you all. And I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, the name of the club I used is completely made up.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~~~~~
LOS ANGELES, 1983
It was Saturday night, 11 PM, and the club was buzzing. Angie was working as a waitress at the Stardust, a popular strip club just off the infamous Sunset Strip. And it being right off Sunset Strip meant it was close to clubs like the Whiskey, Roxy and the Rainbow. The strip was a real hotspot for rock 'n' roll royalty, and a lot of them came to the Stardust as well. Last weekend she got to serve Guns N' Roses, who tipped her generously. A lot of regulars and bands had their preferred dancers and waitresses, so to have some of them as your clientele could make you a lot of money. That's why she always tried a little harder when she saw potential. Tonight, she had another band to look after, hoping to once add them to her list as well. Even though she had only worked here for about six months now, she had a few guests who would ask for her, but non of them rich and famous bands who would tip her a lot of money. So fingers crossed she's make a good impression tonight and they'll ask for her when they come back. It was definitely a matter of when, not if, she thought.
She was wearing black leather shorts and a black tank top, showing just enough cleavage, combined with some over knee black boots with heels. Not too high. It was good to look nice, stand out, but don't stand out too much. It's about the dancers after all, not her. Her long blonde hair was teased up high and slightly wavy. She finished her look with some big silver hoop earrings and red lipstick. Oh, and not to forget, some spritzes of her favourite perfume. The men often seemed to notice and like it, which could help with tips. She was here to make money after all, not to have a night out.
"Good evening, boys." She said with a smile as she placed the tray of drinks down on the gold coffee table; bottles of beer, shots of vodka and a couple of bottles of Jack Daniels. The four men were sitting on the red leather sofa's of the VIP area. They seemed pretty wasted already.
"Thank you, babe." A tall guy said, who Angie recognised as Tommy Lee, the drummer of Mötley Crüe. She had seen this band live once, in their early days. Next to him on the right must be Nikki Sixx, the bass player of the band. He was tall too, not as scrawny as Tommy though, and next to him was Mick Mars, the guitarist, he was a little older than the rest of them. Then on the left of Tommy must be the singer, Vince Neil. Most girls were drooling over this blonde Don Juan. She had to admit, he wasn't bad looking at all. Non of them were as a matter of fact. But she was working so she stayed professional.
"If you need anything else just wave or call, I'll be right there." Angie said and gave them another smile. "I want a dance." The singer said, leaning forward a little and running his hand over her arm. "I can arrange that," She replied. "Lola over there will take good care of you." She pointed at a tall brunette who was wearing barely anything. She was breath taking, favourited by a lot of men. "I want you." Vince said, chuckling drunkly and this time taking a hold of her arm. "I'm sorry, I don't dance." Angie apologised and looked down at the blonde man. "Come on, baby, I know you will do fucking great." He smirked, earning smirks from the boys next to him, apart from Mick, who seemed to be minding his own business as he took a swig of vodka. "I take that as a compliment but my boss doesn't allow me to-" "What a shit ass boss! Fuck him!" She heard Tommy holler from behind her. "What's your name, sugar?" Vince asked, his fingers still wrapped around her arm, not wanting her to leave. "It's Phoebe." She said, that was the name she used here in the club. "I want you to fucking dance for me, Phoebe." He tried again, licking his lower lip. Hoping to win her over. But he wasn't the first man that tried to make her do things she wasn't allowed to or simply didn't want to do. "I have to disappoint you, but I'll make sure to send something nice your way. You will enjoy it, I promise." She said, looking over at Lola once more who noticed her now. "Alright." Vince eventually sighed and let go of her arm, leaning back into the sofa again.
