It felt as though I had been scrolling for hours, scanning the seemingly never-ending listings of jobs I would never qualify for. I couldn't blame anyone but myself for the countless rejection emails I had received in the last two weeks alone.
My resume wasn't half bad, but nor was it half good. One might say it was a concoction of random office jobs mixed with the occasional retail work. None of which were impressive or made me a stand out candidate for employment. But all I needed was a nine to five that would cover the bills and get me out of this shitty apartment.
Putting my glasses to the side, I aggressively rub my temples with a deep exhale. A wide mouthed yawn escapes my lips as I sit back, leaning deeper into the cushions of my faux leather couch.
Beep! Beep!
Almost as if it knew how to choose the worst possible timing, my work reminder jolts me back into reality. I guess I would have to save my personal pity party for another day, which is a bummer because I had my tiny violin ready to go.
I throw on some mascara and quickly grab my heels before heading to Lilacs.
As I pull into the parking lot I can already hear the music. Flipping down the overhead mirror, I take a final glance at myself. Mildly satisfied with my appearance I step out of the car.
"Hey Lily," Jack's gruff voice greets me at the back door. The security jacket hugs his muscles and the neon sign above reflects off his bald head. His breath smells of tobacco and his skin is covered in tattoos. I had seen him take a men out back a few times, yet he was one of the very few at Lilacs I felt safe around.
"Hey Jack, good to see you," I smile as I walk through the door he holds open for me. The smell
of cigarettes, booze and sweat punch me in the gut. A stench I never wanted to get used to and promised myself I never would."Hey, I'm heading out now, you're on for the night. Keep your distance from the blonde in the blue shirt, he's getting a little too handsy," Kayla says as she lazily packs her things. Her blonde hair pulled into a perfect high bun and her cheekbones made even more prominent by bright pink plush.
"Thanks for the heads up, enjoy your night off," I respond with a smile. She throws her purse over her shoulder and sends a nonchalant wave before exiting out the back door, leaving me on my own.
A tiny outfit hangs on the dressing room rack, a post-it note taped on the front my name scribbled across it. Rolling my eyes, I hold it up to my body and look in the mirror. It wouldn't cover a lot, but it was better than nothing. Slipping into the stringy contraption of an outfit, my heart begins to race like it had before every shift since I started three months ago. A racing heart is good, I think to myself, it means I haven't gotten used to this and hopefully I never would.
Adjusting the many sparkly black strings that cling to my chest and legs, I glance in the mirror again. A quick glance is all I could take before tearing my eyes away from my reflection, not wanting to see the the person in front of me. I take a deep breath and open the velvet purple curtain in front of me, the lights hitting me immediately.
I had been a dancer since I was seven years old, moving my body was not foreign to me. In fact, there were nights at Lilacs when the freedom of the stage allowed for more self expression then I had ever felt before, nights when I could tune out the growls of the lousy men around me and feel every beat. But there were also nights when it felt like I was moving a lifeless body, one that was no longer my own.
Moving to the rhythm, I take in the crowd in front of me. As usual there was Tim, the married drunk who spent his nights hooting and hollering at women half his age. Occasionally he would feel to make sure his wedding ring was still in the pocket of his shirt. A group of young men are seated in the back corner, their eyes occasionally wandered by to the stage, but for the most part they remain engaged in lively drunk conversation with one another.
Then there was the blond haired blue shirt guy sitting as close to the stage as he could possibly get. His eyes gleamed with drunken lust, I could practically smell his boozy stench from the stage. I ignore his desperate attempts to wave me down, knowing that the dollar bill he might give me isn't worth the mile he might take.
The night carries on uneventfully, and in this line of work, uneventful is the best type of night. At 2am, I begin to pack my bag, slipping into my sweats and crewneck. As usual, Jack is waiting by the door to walk me to my car.
"Anyone give you any trouble tonight," he asks gruffly as he opens my car door for me.
"No, it was a smooth night. I appreciate you looking out for me. Have a good night Jack, I'll see you this weekend," I give him a quick hug before sliding into the drivers seat and quickly cranking the heat.
As I walk through my front door, my stomach begins to grumble. Throwing a frozen mac n' cheese in the microwave, I get comfortable on the couch with my laptop. Scanning through my emails, two words jump out at me like fireworks on the Fourth of July: Interview Request.
My heart skips a beat as I double click the email as fast as possible.
Hello Lillian,
Thank you for your interest in the Personal Assistant position at AKMO inc. Based on your prior work in administrative assistance, we think you may be a good candidate for this opportunity. We would like to set up an interview sometime next week. Please let us know your availability.
Best,
Kyle Jennings
AKMO Talent Acquisition TeamMy heart skips, leaps and jumps. A chance at something bigger, an opportunity for change, the possibility of stability. My hands lightly shake as I typed my response.
Hello Kyle,
Thank you so much for reaching out and for your consideration. This is an amazing opportunity. I am available anytime next Monday or Tuesday. Please let me know what works best with your schedule.
Best,
Lillian TaylorI look over at the broken air conditioning unit and mold stained ceilings. I'm going to get the fuck out of here.
**********
AUTHORS NOTE:
Hello! Thank you so much for choosing to give my story a read. If you like it, it would mean the world if you click on that star button!I will update soon and am so excited to finally put onto paper this idea that I have been playing with for years.
All my love,
Alexandra
YOU ARE READING
Million Dollar Devil
RomanceDesperate for money, 24 year old Lillian Wright works the night shift, dancing for the lustful eyes of sleazy men at a local strip club. A second chance finds her when she gets a job at one of Americas most successful corporations , working as the...