Scarlet's an outcasted witch, Mathew is a villian with a plan.
Working at a Strip club sucks but pays bills, but having to put on a private show for a villian, and his handsy friends, is even worse. Add in some obsession and stalking and you have yo...
After the second handsy motherfucker of a client Scarlet is ready to commit murder and arson. 'If another motherfucker asks for my number I'm stabbing.' She thinks to herself. "So you look like shit." Annabel says as Scarlet comes off stage. "Now I know how you feel." She says giving a wink and a smile to one of the patrons. "Fuck you to Champagne." Scarlet says. Calling her by the stripper name she hides behind.
'Were all hiding behind something.' She thinks to herself.
"Wanna go get drinks after work?" Annabel asks as they walk by patrons, giving smiles and waves as they go. Or Annabel does, Scarlet just waves and gives a glance.
All the workers had a 'character' to play. Some are 'innocent little things', and others are practically 50 cent hookers. Scarlet got lumped with the 'super secret sexy' group. It was only her, Elizabeth, and Hannah.
"Yeah sure, someone needs to take care of ya'll." She replies when they get back in the changing rooms.
"We are not that bad." Annabel says with an eye roll. "You threatened to make me eat my own nipples, piercings and all, if I didn't let ya'll jump off the bridge over the freeway." She replies looking her co-worker dead in the eye.
It's silent for a moment as Annabel relives that hazy little memory, until she coughs and turns away. "Ok, we're a little more than bad." She says, every word gradually getting quieter. "A little?" Scarlet asks incredulously.
"Shut up."
And with that their miniature break is over. "Alright Cat you're on in 10 minutes, Champagne you have 3 private dances, get to it ladies." The manager says, wearing too much makeup for someone who is almost on their deathbed.
"Yes ma'am." Scarlet and Annabel say in unison.
Sharing a look they fall back into character and go to work.
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"So how much for a night?" A burly pale man asks, gripping the sides of Scarlets waist. "Sir for the last time, I am not a prostitute," she answers exasperatedly "we have services for that in the back." She finishes. Trying to meep her cool she gently trues prying his hands off of her waist but he wouldn't budge. 'Where are th bouncers when you need them?' She thinks mutely. "That's to expensive. C'mon ill pay you 10 an hour." He responds. Digging in his pockets for his wallet. 'Fuck this'. And with a thought the man disappears.
