Chasing Her

Chapter 1: Leaving the spotlight

I stood outside Marcus's office, took a deep breath, and knocked. My heart raced with anticipation, knowing this conversation would change everything.

"Come in," Marcus's voice called out.

I entered, my determination evident. "Marcus, I need to talk to you."

Marcus, the club owner, looked up from his desk. "What's up, Sylvia? You're not having trouble with the clients, are you?"

I shook my head. "No, it's not that." I hesitated before continuing. "I've decided to quit dancing here."

Marcus's expression changed from curiosity to surprise. "Sylvia, you're one of our top performers. What's driving this decision?"

I shrugged, trying to articulate my thoughts. "I just need a change. The lifestyle's taking a toll on me."

Marcus nodded, though his eyes betrayed disappointment. "I understand. You'll be missed, but I respect your choice. When's your last night?"

"Tonight. My final performance was an hour ago."

Marcus stood, extending his hand. "Thank you for your time here, Sylvia. You'll always have a place if you change your mind."

I shook his hand, feeling a mix of emotions: relief, uncertainty, and a hint of fear.

---

As I walked to my car, the cool night air enveloped me. I felt a sense of liberation, like I'd shed a skin that no longer fit.

Driving home, my mind wandered to the possibilities ahead.  I need to get my fucking life in my hands.

Upon arriving home, I took a refreshing shower, changed into comfortable clothes, and settled onto my couch with a book. The words on the page began to blur as my eyelids grew heavy. The exhaustion of the night's performances caught up with me.

My book slipped from my hands, landing softly on the cushion. My eyes closed, and I drifted into a restless slumber.

In my dreams, a mysterious figure emerged. His face remained hidden, but his presence was unmistakable.

"Welcome, Sylvia," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "Tonight, you're mine."

His hands caressed my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Fingers traced my curves, teasing my nipples into tender peaks.

I arched into his touch, craving more. His lips brushed mine, a gentle kiss that ignited a fire within.

Tongues entwined, our kiss deepened. I felt his hardness against me, and my body responded with a rush of desire.

In the dream, we were lost in a world of pleasure. His hands explored my depths, stroking my core. I moaned, my voice barely audible.

"More," I whispered, my hips rising to meet his touch.

He obliged, his fingers dancing across my skin. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure coursing through me.

Our bodies moved in sync, a sensual rhythm that built to a crescendo. I felt myself slipping over the edge, into an abyss of ecstasy.

I climaxed, crying out as the sound echoed through the room.

I was still basking in the afterglow of my erotic dream when a buzzing noise pierced the air. At first, I thought it was part of the dream, but then I realized it was my phone.

"Goddammit," I muttered, reaching for the phone.

"Hey, bitch!" Steph's voice burst through the line, shattering my sleep-induced haze.

"Steph, what's up?" I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the dream's lingering sensations.

"Girl, I almost got laid last night," Steph said, her tone dripping with frustration. "But that asshole, Alex, had to go and freak out about his ex. I swear, I'm starting to think I'm cursed."

I chuckled, familiar with Steph's dating woes. "Sorry, girl. Maybe next time."

"Yeah, maybe," Steph sighed. "So, how's life? Still stuck in that boring introvert bubble?"

I laughed. "Hey, being an introvert isn't that bad. And yeah, my life's pretty dull. No love interests, no excitement. Just me, myself, and my books."

"Well, that's because you're not putting yourself out there," Steph said, her voice laced with concern. "You're 19, Sylvia. You should be living it up, not hiding behind your introverted shell."

"I know, I know," I said, feeling a twinge of self-awareness. "But honestly, Steph, I'm just not motivated. Relationships seem like too much drama. And besides, who'd want someone like me?"

"What do you mean, someone like you?" Steph asked, her tone curious.

"I mean, I'm basically a fucking clown with glasses. Not exactly the most exciting package," I said, self-deprecation creeping into my voice.

"Girl, shut up," Steph said, laughing. "You're beautiful, smart, and talented. You just need to own it."

I smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude toward my friend. "Thanks, Steph."

"That's what best friends are for," Steph said. "Now, let's make a pact to get you out of that shell. Deal?"

I hesitated, unsure if I was ready to take the leap. But with Steph by my side, maybe it was time to shake things up.

"Deal," I said, a spark of determination igniting within me.

"Alright, girl, I've got a plan," Steph said, her voice bubbling with excitement. "I landed a small modelling gig for tomorrow, and I want you to come with me."

"What? No way," I protested, already feeling anxious. "I'm not exactly model material, Steph."

"Come on, Sylvia Valenti," Steph teased, using my full name. "It's just a one-day gig, and it'll be fun. Plus, you need to get out more."

I hesitated, weighing the pros and cons. But Steph's enthusiasm was infectious.

"Fine," I relented. "What's the job?"

"We're modelling for a local fashion designer's new collection," Steph explained. "It's a small, intimate setting, so don't worry, you won't be strutting down a catwalk."

I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. "Okay, what time do I need to be there?"

"10 am sharp," Steph said. "And don't forget to wear something sexy."

I rolled my eyes, laughing. "You know me, Steph. I'll be lucky if I don't trip on my own feet."

"Girl, you'll be fine," Steph reassured me. "Just be yourself, and own that runway."

Maybe this was exactly what I needed – a push out of my comfort zone.

"Thanks, Steph," I said, meaning it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Steph replied, hanging up.

I'm totally fucked.