𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄

13

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"Okay. And you wanna sit at home all day and do nothing then, huh?" my aunt demands.

"I'll apply next semester, auntie," I sigh, head under the covers as I furiously text one of my friend's.

"Kids your age are already in school, nearly sophomores in college," she stands over me, fists on her waist, in her pale-colored scrubs.

"I needed a break," I argue.

The covers snatch from over my head and some of my hair is pulled with it. I rub at my scalp, the front of my head braided in a straight, stitched pattern, the back a large abundance of 4c glory.

"Get up! Now!"

"Why you gotta keep pressin' me? I'll go to school when I go!" I snap.

My cheek stings before I can register I've been slapped. "You sit around all day and act like you're still in high school. You need a job, Courtlynn. You can either feel sorry for yourself, or do something for yourself."

I stand up, in Lilo and Stitch pajamas, hands now on my hips. "Who said I was feelin' sorry for myself?"

"I know the hurt from your parents never faded and I always tried to make up for that-

"No you didn't," I pointed at her. "You could have made him come back. You could have told him you wouldn't take me in. You watched him walk away from his kid. What type of family can you be to sit back and watch a father not take care of his children?"

"It wasn't my battle-

"Then whose was it?" my voice rises. "When a father abandons his children and goes on about his life, and the mother either forces him to pay child support or suffers alone, who advocates for that child then? For that broken family then? Shouldn't the father's family or the mother's family force him to behave? To come back," my voice broke, "to his lit-tle princess."

Aunt Malina's arms wrap around me, and her soft hair brushing against my neck as we embrace.

"I know you're hurt, but you've been holding this in too long." Pulling back she says, "You can't stunt your own growth because a grown man decided to be a little boy."

I sniffle but I know that she's right.

"I'll start searchin' for jobs."

"Searching," she corrects me. Gesturing to my bedroom, she adds, "And clean up in here. No boy will want to sneak into this room." I laugh as she leaves, feeling a bit of happiness begin to ebb its way back into my life. Maybe auntie's right. It's time for me to become my own woman. To let go of the pain that my father caused me.

Over the next few months, I search for jobs until I find myself looking at the ones the innocent, booksmart girl from high school in me never would have considered in the past. One evening while my aunt works the night, I find myself slipping into a local bar and lounge, shakily handing over an ID, and being grateful I had the guts to show up. A casting for a club some miles away was going on and they put up a good offer. A free gift card with three hunnid on it if we passed the audition and a spot in their club.

I entered the lounge, the room filled with hookah lovers, blue collar men at the bar, and girls giggling with birthday balloons in the purple-lighted place. A banner spelling out Club Chiara in the corner caught my eye, and I made my way there.

I found the most sluttiest thing I could find at a local retail store, swiping it and stuffing it into my sports bra on my way out. Once I have money I won't do things like that anymore. Matter of fact, Auntie Malina will have no reason to ever yell at me again. I'll pay her back for all of the years of hell I caused her and help her find a new place wherever she wants to live, whether that's back in Arizona or still here in Houston. Then I'll have my own place, and maybe go to college too to make her happy.

A crowd of girls stand around three guys in dripped out jackets and cheesy sunglasses built in odd shapes. They look like a boy band, but the gold grills and seedy looks they send us make me shiver rather than gravitate their way. I cover my body, wanting to hide as I join the line of girls and receive an audition number.

Eventually I make my way to the front of the line and am taken behind a black curtain put up by Club Chiara. Back there, two of the three guys ask me to spin around then come forward. If I felt naked before standing in my hole-y black dress with only pasties and a thong underneath, I feel demeaned as one grabs my thigh and the other travels his finger between my hot breasts.

My pace quickens but the moment is over as soon as it begins. I'm told that I passed the audition, and once the gift card is in my grasp, I quickly forget about the awkward encounter behind the curtain.

I'm given directions to the club and told that my final audition will be there, consisting of me shadowing a bottle girl and starting off from there.

And so I went. Told my aunt I had found a good paying job out in Chiara, a pretty far drive from Houston, but worth it. I move up in my ranks, making a name for myself amongst the customers who come to the club as a bottle girl. I don't have a name, I'm not Bunnie yet.

Then one day I'm told to stay after work.

I'm told I need a name, and I choose the first thing that I see. A girl on stage wrapping her body around the pole, a mask on her face disguising her identity, her sex appeal on ten. I choose Bunnie, and one day aspire for people to look at me with love. For anyone to, really. The manager over the bottle girls gives me a soft smile, something that actually comes off as comforting. He sees where I'm looking and tells me that I can be up there too one day, if that's what I want.

I continue to work for the club, making just enough that continuing my drives up there is worth it in my simple car. Then it breaks down, and my aunt is pressuring me to sign up for my next semester. I choose fixing my car over that, and promise her that I'll go to Oared the following year for school.

I see dollar bills everywhere, things needed around our place, wanting my own place, having to keep my car in shape for my long drives, and having to afford what my scholarships won't.

I'm stressed and sad more often, and the manager can see it on my face. I confide in him that I need money, and I set the own stage for my demise indefinitely.

I'm asked to stay again after work. A gun is pressed to my neck. An offer is made, one I feel I don't have a choice but to accept because 1) a weapon is being held against me and 2) I want to achieve adulthood.

And so, I am binded to the club indefinitely and my life seems to be taking off when it is actually being taken away the more that I spend. Before I realize it, I'm in college, in my own place, and my auntie and I are worlds apart both by relationship and distance.

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