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PPC X ROMANTIX | Episode Three

CHERRY ANDERSON

Starstruck. I'm starstruck.

Harlow and I had a good, solid plan. We weren't gonna be creeps or freaks. We were gonna be normal, no special treatments and no attitudes. We were gonna acknowledge their status to us and do it gracefully, and once. We were gonna do our jobs and get the hell out of dodge before the images in our perv reserves were tainted by who these people really are.

If there's one thing I've learned since starting at The Pink Lady, it's that treatment of service workers tells all.

But, our plan has gone up in flames.

Among their gaggle of laughing, drinking, chatting friends, the Priscilla Wolfe and world-renowned Bates sit on a lounge together, intimidatingly stoic.

It's dark, but it's not hard to make out their glares of bemusement and disapproval, and if looks could kill, Harlow and I would be six feet deep and choking on worms.

"Royalty," Harlow whispers in awe, "Holy..."

"I know." I squeak.

Entranced, we stand frozen at the top of the stairs, just outside the red roped perimeter of the V.I.P lounge.

"Is she real?" I chew my bottom lip and gulp, skating my eyes down Priscilla's glass skin and doll-like features. She blinks and I flinch.

"They can't be. It's not possible. They're either aliens or... o-or God is a goddamn liar about all that 'all men created equal' shit and he was doing some extreme divine intervention when he made them, because, pft," Harlow stutters, "I don't look like that, no one just looks like that."

"Harlow, her heels are sharp as daggers. How does she walk?"

"Is there one strand of hair out of place on that man? He has Lego block scalp."

"Who the fuck is his tattoo artist? Mine look like sesame street doodles compared to that." I toss a hand up.

"And her makeup?"

"I know!"

Harlow expels a rough breath and shakes his head, "Baby... Are you sure we should go through with this? Cause I-I'm not confident, I don't feel good about this, I'm serious," He whines, "I like my porn to stay in the TV and I can't not see them naked, I don't know how. It's not too late to find someone else before I embarrass us both. We could get Vera, or Lacy, or Lilah-"

"We have to! It'd look even weirder to chicken out now? She met you and h-he met me, and-- don't you fuckin' dare bitch," I hear the floor squeak under his heels, and I dig my nails into his wrist before he can take a full step back.

"We already agreed. We're doing this." I scold.

"Oh please, you're barely doing anything! You're not serving them with your clothes off?!" He rips his arm away from me, "You don't know half of my struggle," He bangs against his chest, "I have to get in there and shake ass! Do you know the mindset and the courage - and the sheer balls it takes to shake some ass under these conditions?! T-These are not shake-ass circumstances!"

"Well then, you better make 'em that way," I widen my eyes and give his ass a sharp spank.

He bounces under my hard hand and pouts, catching his pert cheeks to hide them from me.

"No more staring. No more stalling. Come on. Together."

I round my shoulders back, put on a brave face and hold out my hand.

"I'll do the talking." I add.

Harlow eyes my hand with worry that wiggles his brows and lower lip, but he shuts his eyes and gives in seconds later, linking our fingers tight.