"This is important, Lowen." Mr Green wasn't shouting, instead he was gritting his teeth so he couldn't be heard by the small audience. Not that any of them would care enough to stop him if he were shouting, or worse.
I sometimes wish he would shout at me. Just scream and shout and even slap me. It's when he ends the conversation with "we'll talk about this later", that I know it will be a one way conversation, with his hands over my mouth and crawling over my body.
"Now baby, go be a good little whore and bring daddy some money, and maybe he won't be as angry later."
I'm grateful his fingernails are short, because the grip he has on my throat is strong enough to draw blood.
The only good thing about being in a new town is that I can repeat my routines. I sing an old song Red taught me when we first met. Mr Green has now got me a microphone stand, but only so I can run both hands across my body. Use both hands to raise my skirt. Use both hands to grab my breasts.
I've soon learned the money maker is leaving the stage and joining the crowd. I danced around them slow enough for them to touch me, in hopes that they'll slip some cash in my bra while they're close enough.
"I'll give you two-hundred bucks for a night." An old drunk grabs my hips as I faced away from him. I sing like his grip isn't too powerful for me to get out of. Like I'm not stuck. Like I'm enjoying his hands being there.
Mr Green steps forward, heading towards me and The Drunk. Thank god, I think. He's coming to relieve me of this mess.
"Sounds like a deal, sir." Mr Green smiles creepily at him. "Here's the address to her motel."
YOU ARE READING
For The Plot
Romance✓ academic rivals ✓ enemies to lovers ✓ fake dating ✓ Many more of your favourite tropes <3 Lowen had been through hell and back to get to where she is now - one of the world's best upcoming music artists. But after releasing a few hit singles she k...
