𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄

7

The guy, I guess I'll call him...hm, Ranger Guy, left the private room, drying his face off with the end of his shirt, his boxers balled up in his fist, nothing on except his jersey.

The collector ignores his lack of dress and simply takes the other half of the payment, but the guard suggests that he finds some bottoms quick before he has to be put out, saying this in a joking manner.

Ranger Guy, he was nice...maybe fun even, a definite chin tapper. He didn't make me feel like the other guys that had came through, but at the end of the day, just like the rest of them, he was only using me for my sex appeal.

Declared done for the night, like a mysterious fairy godmother had swept through, I hug my body and make my way to my locker, mind set on finding Babe afterwards. So many numb, dull-eyed girls left the sectioned-off rooms, painting life back into their eyes as they pass by other dancers or bottle girls. This was Club Chiara's underground world, and we weren't even allowed to wear it upon our faces.

I dress in my robe, with the club's emblem on it, patting at my face with a water bottle wettened tissue. I try to bring some spark into my eyes, some movement into my limbs when I want to walk stiffly and with my head held down.

"Well, I guess the amazing Bunnie has finally found her place amongst us peasants," a condescending voice stated. I shoot a glare at the voice. Vanilla Dreem and a few other girls who decided to latch onto her presence like leeches. Maybe they only saw her for protection?

"We all have the same place 'round here. Don't be mad," my voice was starting to rise as I pointed at myself, built up emotion boiling over, "that I could make a name for myself."

Vanilla stepped forward, her eyes piercing but clouded by whatever she decided to take for the night. "My name's gonna be bigger than your's. I'll pay my debt first."

"And be among the what, twenty girls out of damn near a hundred who pay off their debts each year?" I look the girl up and down, deciding that today I could sink to her lowness. I was tired of being the good girl, of keeping my calm and keeping shit cute. That type of mindset didn't work on lowdown dirty bitches, so of course Vanilla Dreem wouldn't be able to understand a young, educated woman such as myself.

"We both know you don't get any private rooms, and if the security allowed it, they'd throw pennies on stage for you. You're called up, and the niggas tryna crane they head to see who up next after you coming from backstage-

"Bitch," sharp nails flash out towards my face, (always the face), but I grab both of her wrists and shove her backwards. "You don't deserve to touch me, bitch."

"Yeah. I might not get rooms. You proud of yourself for sucking and fucking on niggas? You got you a taste of some more money, now you think you all high and mighty?" Vanilla laughed from the floor, ignoring her friends attempts at helping her up and getting up on her own.

"Fuck the rooms," I snap.

"In a few, they won't remember the name Bunnie. They'll be screamin' my name," she sneered, "I know everybody always underestimates me, but I'm a bitch who's been crawling for the top since I could. I won't let another trick like you stand in my way." She looked across her group of girls, "You got sumin coming for you, Bunnie, but you won't have to check the mail for it." Vanilla Dreem and her stank pussy posse left without another word, and I crossed my arms over my robed chest, gaze hard.

That was a threat, and she definitely knew more people around here than me. As far as anybody I'd consider a friend, Babe was the only one. I'm not safe here anymore, I slowly realize, then think, but I never was, and it's a damn shame that I was starting to believe otherwise.

I find Babe in her suite, and she rushes to pull me into a hug. Right now my experience in the private rooms aren't on the front of my mind, my encounter with Vanilla is, so I quickly relay all that back to my friend. Somewhere floating around in the back of my brain was every touch and feel that slid across my skin like slime, then Ranger Guy, of course, but I push that all away. Vanilla Dreem is the immediate threat, not any of them.

"What the fuck. Why would she be at the top of anything?" Babe wrinkled up her nose.

"I don't know," I rub my arm kind of anxiously, "but it's crazy that I might believe her, Babe."

I play with the side of my mask absentmindedly, sighing. "I don't do shit for these bitches not to like me."

"Well," Babe trails off, giving me a knowing look.

"What?" I nearly snap. Today had been shitty.

"You can be a bit conceited and bratty at times, but you're not the worst bitch here," she shrugged, "That's why I gravitated to you so much. And you do got a pure heart. That's why Mother wanted to protect you."

"Mother," I repeated, "I can't believe y'all were trying to keep me safe all this time."

"The rooms can break you, Bunnie. You gotta promise me that you'll never quit school because of the club, mamas," she pleaded with me, both of us coming to sit on the bed and hold hands.

"Babe, I-I don't know if I can promise that," I shook my head.

"Your freedom is mine," she whispered.

"The club doesn't let anybody pay others' debts," I say back lowly, glancing around the room as if someone may be listening in.

"I know, but," hope still shines in her eyes, so I let it.

We both know the real truth anyways. Whatever it took to motivate us to keep pushing through this hell.

"I should've taken out a loan for school," I say numbly.

"We all have different regrets for coming to the club and hoping they'd pay for this and that. One thing we can't do is change that, Bunnie," she stated.

"Girls have tried to run away once they had access away from the club, girls have tried to get the local police involved, girls have tried suicide in their suites. There's no clear way to escaping the club without killing you or causing someone else pain," I say.

"So we work," Babe sighs.

"So we work," I repeat, patting her arm.

"I guess we'll just work ourselves into the ground," Babe sighed, getting up. "I'm almost out of debt, Bunnie, I can feel it."

"Me too, Babe, me too," I tell her with sadness in my eyes.

I falter on my words, then clear my throat, "Uh, it's this guy. NJ."

Her eyes sparked up with delight, "Bro, it's been so long since I heard some boy tea. All the girls around here just like to crush on regulars." She gestured for me to sit back down and leaned forward, "Tell me about him."

"He's the TA for my psychology class, and, maybe a potential hookup," I smirk. "He seems innocent and sweet, and you know I like to bitch guys like that."

"Maybe you could've been a dominatrix," Babe winked.

I shrug, frowning, "Maybe."

"There's a future for you, Bunnie," her thumb caressed two of my fingers, "We'll see it. Tell me about what happened in the rooms."

I shudder, images of guys leaning over me on the couches and hungry gazes combing across the expanse of me haunting my mind.

"It's different than the stage," I manage to squeak out.

"Yeah. It is," she agreed, nodding. "Anybody notable, anybody extra gross?" she prodded with curious eyes.

"No," I shook my head. I tapped Babe's watch and checked the time for myself along her wrist, "I should go. Only one class for today," I give her a weak smile.

"Mhm. We're gonna talk about this, Bunnie."

"Roger that," I laugh.

"You're so fuckin' corny girl. That guy is gonna love you. I just know it," she rolls her eyes, "Hood nigga? Nerd? What?"

I think to myself, trying to find the answer to that.

"Definitely not a hood nigga," and I leave it at that.