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Aria moved through the dimly lit club, her heels clicking against the polished floor as she finished up a lap dance for one of her favorite regulars. He was a late-night fixture, always sliding in after his long shifts, tipping generously without fail. She'd learned long ago not to question it; the money always spoke louder than the questions in her mind.
The club was quieter than usual, a few scattered patrons nursing drinks at the bar and chatting under the low hum of music. It was a weekday, so the crowd was mostly made up of regulars and those drawn in by the enticing happy hour specials. The energy was different tonight. Less chaotic, more laid-back, but still there was a buzz in the air that Aria had come to recognize as part of the club's pulse.
It was close to the end of her shift, and the club was going to close soon. She made her way over to the bar where Alexis and Desiree were chatting and passing a watermelon mint hookah back and forth. She sat on the barstool, her bare legs pressing against the leather of the seat.
"Hey, sexy girl. How you feeling?"
Desiree asked, taking a hard pull of the hookah hose and exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"Tired. I'm ready for a blunt and my bed," Aria said, rubbing her temple and letting out a long sigh. "I haven't been feeling too good tonight."
Desiree gave her a look, leaning in slightly. "Aria...you still taking those pills on the weekends?" she asked quietly, her tone more serious so Alexis wouldn't overhear.
Aria hesitated, biting her lip. She knew her best friend too well—Desiree could always tell when something was up.
"Only when it feels overwhelming. It's just...it gives me that extra edge, you know?"
