My Typecast Midnight THE ENCHANTRESSES #5 Soon To Published

PROLOGUE

She sat up in the high chair in their private dressing room, then she took a deep breath as she looked at herself in the round mirror. She's pretty as always then she stared an empty shot-glass in her hand after she gulp it. Her mom allowed her to sip a glass of ardent spirit to lessen her nervousness.

Cyla hated that she was wearing this kind of outfit for the first time of her life, a short skimpy red maroon dress that accentuate her perfect body shapes. This outfit isn't her. Her best friend Norleigh own it and tonight was her off-day as a stripper in Cyla's Stargazer Club. Unfortunately the two young lady strippers back-out just yesterday. She had no choice but to offer herself to dance because she don't want to see her Mom stressing for tonight show.

'I hope I don't slip on the pole.' She gave a nervous glimpse at the pole, this is her first time touching it. One shot of tequila isn't enough to melt the nervous feeling she had. Soft jazz music started to play it's a sign for her to slay her eroticism move. Her heart trembling while swaying sexy on the pole, wearing half red mask. She's dancing rhythmically, she needs to act as a professional stripper for their customers satisfaction.

In her peripheral vision she saw a young boy staring him like he wants to undress her from head-to-toe. She glance a young boy seating in a table at the side of a bar. His eyes lingering her. If she's not wearing a mask right now she's probably run away from the club and hide just like the last time but tonight she can't obey her mom. She don't want her mom to suffer again because of her.

She's enjoying seducing men inside their club. Cyla is enjoying her part time job tonight. She naturally twirl her body up to low and bending while holding the silver pole. Majority of their customers sounds amazed of her performance, they are praising her and pleading for another round but a minutes passed she'll do her last twirl and bowed.

'Thanks God!' Cyla's deeply sighed.

She'll exit from the stage after her show, she's tired, she want to rest in her favorite terrace. That's not her job, she's sweating, her legs stiffened and her muscles trembling. She crept at secret exit of back stage then walk through hallway until she reached the terrace.

'Fuck!' She whispered when she noticed a statue of man standing behind her. She thinks it's Joeres or Dermot but the smells different scent from them.

A young man appeared, ostensibly from out of thin air, a blonde disheveled hair fitted to his heart shaped face. Those brown eyes examining her whole body but she feels not intimidating, it seems he's memorising every curves of her body, he's marking every parts of her skin.

"Who are you?" She calming herself while wiping her wet face. She put back her red mask but it's too late when a man took a step towards her. The dim light from outside post was enough to scan her face.

"I like the way you moves. Can I borrow you tonight?" He said in the asking tone but sounds he demanded her.

"Did you intend to signify that I was a whore because I wore this?" She smiled lustily.

"Heck, no. Never. W-why would I say that?" He denied.

"I know you think of it!" She stated. The young man raised his two hand a sign of giving up. He look away but his heart wants to take a lady in his home and hide her away from her world. 'He's idiot! He don't even know her name'.

"Are you a thief?" He ask nonsense diverting the mood.

Cyla stared him curving her eyebrows and smirk. "Excuse me? My family owned this building." He starled but he choose to ignore of what she said.

"Because you are stealing my strength." His ethereal voice makes Cyla's heart shivering. 'What he is up to?' She think.

They were out in the open air terrace but she suddenly felt claustrophobic...