𝟸𝟷 𝙳𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎: 𝙽𝚎𝚠 𝚈𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚎

Something important for everyone to remember is that the world isn't perfect and people don't always get their ways. No matter how perfect a person's life is, and how set in stone that sacred thing is... stone can still crumble.

Once it does... you can't superglue a life back together. That statue will never be a statue again. It will become bedrock for the next to walk across.

Don't ever think yourself wise when pit against love.

The double doors to the club opened a sliver as two giggling girls adorned in skimpy dresses entered, loud music and colored lights seeping out. The overhead neon green sign buzzed 'Envy'.

I took an exhausted breath and fixed my oversized black sweatshirt and brown jean shorts. Okay. Time to make a dime.

I'm not so sure if it's just because I need a nap or I'm mentally exhausted. I feel like I'm in a loop with no end in sight. I have to remind myself that I chose this lifestyle.

I opened the door and was instantly overwhelmed with the swirling spotlights, loud laughter, and abundant cheers. Ginormous chandeliers draped from the ceiling over circular booths. Between this and the forest green carpet, this place gave off a more classy feel than that of the other strip joints I've been to.

I pushed through the sea of bodies to the bar where a woman with bleach blonde hair in a tight ponytail and pink lingerie sat. She looked like a Barbie doll. She perked up when she saw me. "Ah! You must be Cloud Carver, right?" she exclaimed over the booming voices.

"Clove Carter, yes." I took a seat on the gray, plush barstool next to her. The bar was much quieter than the rowdiness of the rows of seats by the stage. Here the only time the beams of colored lights would come close was when they hit the little crystals on the chandeliers, scattering colors across the floor. Enthralling almost.

She flicked her fingers to wave it off and I was brought back to our conversation. "Details." She flipped through what I assume is my application paperwork. I didn't have much to give her over the phone seeing how I just moved into a temporary apartment down the street earlier this day and I'm not even in the same country as I was a couple days ago.

I had to make what I call a 'cash stop' so that I can pick up where I left off and see what the hype of New York City is all about. Strip joints are the perfect stop seeing how I can make more tips in one night than I can three weeks waitressing which is typically how long I stay for.

The lady that I suppose is my manager now looked me over then reached over to play with my loosely curled brown sugar hair. I didn't pay much mind to it. I am here literally for people to observe and throw money at.

"Sorry." She chuckled. "I love your hair." Her head pivoted to the door when another small crowd of men in loosely buttoned suits and goofy grins on their faces came. Her shoulders slumped a little in distress and she sighed. "I know it's short notice, but do you think you could start today? It's a Friday night and a bachelor party just showed up a few minutes ago. Candy and Poppy can't come in and—"

I held out a calming hand. "Yes, of course." Her frazzled features relaxed a little. More tips means the faster I get out of here. By the looks of the customers here, I might not even have to stay the full three weeks.

She cupped my hands and smiled. "Bless you, girly. I'll get you in the rotation and we can finish up your paperwork later." I nodded. "Oh, my name is Debra by the way, but you can call me Doll." I gave her a tenuous smile.

That's one thing I love about being a stripper. You can be whoever you choose with no strings attached. Just the sluttier version of that person. Dancing on the stage is you at your rawest. Mostly it's for the money though.