Faceless [H.S]

Cloud Nine. 02

CHAPTER TWO

VALERIE ORTIZ P.O.V

"Alright ladies, chop chop, get up, you know the deal!"

The woman's voice trailed off as she walked deeper into the locker room. Her heels clacked as she clapped her hands, trying to get our attention to finish up before we go do our sets. I propped myself on my elbows and leaned into the lit up vanity mirror, popping my glossed red lips at myself in the reflection. I gave myself a hard look with squinted eyes, before I reached into my makeup bag to take out some gems, so I could place them into the top of my straightened hair. I placed them delicately, humming softly to the muffled music in the distance.

"Val," I heard the familiar voice behind me. I took a quick glance behind me at the mirror and locked eyes with Julie. Her ginger hair was pulled back in a low bun like usual, dressed in her typical black button down and black slacks.

As the house mom, she couldn't really dress as flashy as us, obviously.

"Yes?" I asked, continuing to place the gems.

"Your set is right after Sapphire, so you go on... in about..." Julie looked at her watch before continuing,"...five minutes, almost done?" she questioned me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes ma'am," I responded, putting the gems away.

"It's a full house tonight," a smirk spread across her pink lips, "you better suck them dry..."

I chuckled, rolling my eyes, "I always do."

"That's my girl," she patted my shoulder before walking off to continue yelling at the other girls to wrap it up.

Cloud Nine was really fast paced. The sets between each dancer lasted roughly six minutes, which meant: you needed to make sure you got your money. You'd be surprised how cheap men could be in here; even if it was the biggest strip club in the east coast.

Two floors of absolute stripper heaven, placed right in the middle of Times Square. The most beautiful women in the city that never slept.

There were always entitled tourists here unfortunately. I hated them.

But, I always knew how to get my tips. I've been working here long enough; I'm established as one of the more popular dancers. It's a hard job.

It's not easy to sell that fantasy that you're an effortless sex siren; a sultry seductress that just oozes and radiates sex naturally. It's all in those little intricate details–a well placed giggle, a subtle smile. Perfectly poised manicured hands. Not a single strand of hair out of place.

Our job is to be the woman of your dreams. The woman you can't have. The woman you cannot reach. And if you had that aura; that drive, that ambition–it would come naturally.

But this job really isn't for the weak.

I let out a deep breath before my fingers slipped into my black duffle bag, reaching for my shiny silver fringe heels to match my outfit which consisted of a two piece silver bikini, with fringe on the top and bottom as well. It swayed nicely whenever I danced; so it became one of my favorite things to sport at work. And the sequins shined once the flashing lights hit it.

I placed my pedicured white toes inside the heels before rising to my feet smoothly, used to the sudden change in being 5'1" to a staggering 5'8".

"Val?" I heard Julie call as the doors of the locker room opened. The muffled music grew loud suddenly, the bass thumping. The last dancer walked in, multiple one hundred dollar bills and twenties placed inside of her thong. Her face was flushed and she breathed heavily. The door closed and I rushed over to my locker to put my stuff in it safely, because I knew that my set was coming.