Screw

1. The Vixen

In the night, much can happen. The city buzzes with cars, streetlights blink and flicker and shadowy alleyways become secret meeting places for thieves and rapists. The thunderstorm rolls overhead like a monster from childrens' nightmares, roaring like a lion whilst putting on a firework show of lightning. The clouds break occasionally to reveal a white moon, glowing bright and full, craters littering its rocky surface. Below, the streets are crowded with people. Women sell themselves to men with no higher standards. They pay the price laying flat on their backs. In the same group are the dancers.
They, however, hold themselves higher. The dancers showcase their fine bodies, twisting themselves lithely around silver poles, lacy outfits draped over the essentials but by no means do they sell themselves like the whores- no; They sell an image. Little needs to be imagined by the men who crowd the buildings which house the women. One place in particular is known for its foxy ladies and brilliant service.
The front of the building has glass panels opening onto small cabinets about four times the size of shower cubicles, lined floor to ceiling with bright red satin. Within each of these there is a silver pole, and on each pole twirls a woman, dressed skimpily. Above them, a pink fluorescent sign reads:
"Vixen's".

The year was 1986,
It was Christmas eve and instead of going home like every other normal person, Vixens' dancers were in for another night of twirling.
Estrella briskly strutted offstage, posture perfect and hips swaying tauntingly as she made her way behind the curtains to backstage after an impressive performance. Back here, a few threadbare couches were strewn about the room, resting on the thin, dull carpet. The stained walls brandished symbols of the work that went on in the building; paintings and polaroids of women dancing on the poles and glass display cases showing off the lacy outfits of legendary dancers who had gone out and above and had great success in the industry.
The women populating the room were all, in some way, attractive. whether it was a pretty face or their bodies or their ability- talent- the women had allure. There were only four other girls within the room as Estrella began to walk towards the little doorway leading towards the toilet that doubled as a changerooms, they all stood in a small group nearby one of the aged couches, talking excitedly about something. Estrella paid them no heed, thinking that they were probably gossiping about the latest chick flick or spreading a rumour about someone who was supposed to be their friend.
As she made for the doorway, however, one of the other dancers broke away from the group and came towards her.
"Ahh- there you are! Have you heard?" She grinned, talking in that high pitched voice the group liked to talk in, and flicking her golden hair over her shoulder.
"About what, exactly?"
"There's a band that wants three dancers to come on tour!" She smiled "I hope they're hot!" She then added.
The first statement intrigued her, the second made her roll her eyes.
"Yeah? What band is it?"
"They're called Guns N' Roses- they're sorta just standing out." The blonde told her
"Ah yeah- I think I've heard of them."
"Yeah- anyway- they want dancers for their tour and they're coming here to choose out of us! I hope they choose me!" She said quickly. Estrella looked back at the girl,
"It sounds like a great opportunity" she commented,
"Yeah- I'll uh- let you change." She smiled and trotted back towards the group of women.
Estrella nodded, giving a small smile, and then continued towards the bathroom. In here, the mirrors were cracked and graffiti seeped out of the walls. She made for one of the cubicles, grabbing hold of her small bag as she passed the bag rack on the wall. It had been converted from toilet cubicle to changeroom. The toilet itself had been torn out, the top of the pipe which used to take the toilets' contents to the sewers was exposed. Management had placed laundry hampers over the bare pipelines in a cheap attempt to cover it. Estrella closed the door, turning the lock, and then began to strip off the lacy silk garments she had been in for her performance. She then proceeded to put on a soft black cotton t shirt and a pair of blue jeans. She pulled on socks and then tucked her newly earned cash into the ankle of one of the socks before pulling on a pair of black leather pointy toed ankle boots. Can never be too careful out in the city.
Outfit finished, she dropped her lacy garments into the hamper and did up her bag before making for the door. She was now off shift. As she stepped out, she noted the absence of the other four girls but didn't think about it too much. She wanted to get home, exhausted from a long night of dancing.
As she stepped out into the busy part of the joint, where the customers were allowed, Estrella took in the room. In here it was much cleaner then back stage, with a bar serving alcohol and spotlights in the ceiling. At the back of the room resided three large, round stages, built with silver stripper poles stretching to the ceiling and short catwalks to backstage, only a dark curtain seperating the catwalk from the room beyond. Even as Estrella took in the general look of the room, she noted the absence of staff members. Looking around, she noticed Sherlie, the barmaid, still serving. Advancing towards her and taking a seat, Estrella waited for her to finish serving one particularly tipsy man his Jack Daniels and turn to her.
"Oh hey Est, thought you'd be in the boss's office with the other dancers."
"Huh?" Estrella replied, not understanding why she would need to be talking to the boss at all, let alone to be in his office.
"Some band looking for dancers- they're meeting in there with all the dancers," Sherlie explained,
"Oh- yeah. I was gonna go to that, I must've missed going in cause I was changing... I didn't know that was today," Estrella said, rising from her stool.
"Well perhaps if you hurry..." Sherlie trailed off, raising her eyebrows. Estrella nodded vigorously and then made her way briskly towards the boss's office, dodging customers and a waitress on her way; finally she reached the door and flung it open without knocking. It was a small office with a desk and swivel chair, the window behind which was striped by the blinds hung over it. Every one of the other dancers in the place were stood, somewhat cramped, against the right hand wall. The boss was behind his desk, as usual, and his expression was one of suprise as he gazed back at her, greying hair neatly styled and white shirt pressed and ironed. Finally, in the centre of the room stood five men. They looked out of place in the tidy room; each of them was a little taller then her except for one man who towered over all of them. One had long, straight strawberry blonde hair, one dark curly hair that covered most of his face; the next man had long blonde hair and a winning smile, then a guy with straggly black hair tucked under a black paperboy cap, cigarette nailed to his lip, and finally, the extremely tall man had lots of fluffed up blonde hair and he wore a denim jacket. Each of them seemed to have a liking for black leather.
Estrella blushed a little as everybody in the room stared at her,
"Sorry for my tardiness." She laughed nervously, twisting her hands together, then made her way over to join the rest of the dancers.
"Now- uhh- yes. If you just want to take a look at them, choose a few, and we can get them out on the stage for you if you like?" Their boss suggested.
"That won't be necessary, sir. We are in a hurry." Stated the man with strawberry blonde hair,
"Oh- of course- by all means, just choose some of them." The boss stammered. The man moved to the far side of the line and began to check each of them out. He would look them up and down, pause for a moment and then move on, occasionally asking for a name. As he did this, he spoke,
"You'll be with us for a year. You will dance at every show, and your salary- will be 25 an hour. No negotiations."
Estrella glanced away from the blonde and caught the eye of the taller guy. He grinned and sent her a wink, which made her return his smile. Finally, the strawberry blonde got down the end of the line to her. She looked into his hazel eyes and gave him a small smile. The corner of his mouth twitched, he looked her up and down, from head to toe, and then he met her gaze.
"What's your name?" He questioned,
"Estrella." She murmured. A smirk crept onto his features and he stuck out his left hand for a handshake. She took his hand as he spoke again;
"Congratulations, you're the first dancer for the troupe." He stated. Her jaw dropped,
"Wh- what?!" She stuttered,
"Welcome to Guns N' Roses, Estrella!"

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