After Zayn's early morning phone call, Chelsea went right to sleep. The phone conversation was a pretty abnormal one, but it helped her fall asleep, seeing as how she didn't talk much. Zayn did it all while she just listened, and it felt great to listen to his voice.
It also felt great to hear how he felt about her. Chelsea knew there was an attraction, but she didn't think the attraction was that big. She knew that 98% of it was a sexual attraction, but the other 2% was unknown. When she woke up, Chelsea smiled to herself as she thought about her late night conversation. Fuck the drunk part, she thought, he likes me. This boy fucking likes me! Unable to contain her excitement to herself, she grabbed her pillow and squealed into it like she was back in the seventh grade & her crush just called her. Then, she started to jump up and down and all around, still squealing as her carpet floor creaked and squeaked. Chelsea ran over to her window & quickly yanked it open, desiring to scream it to the world.
"HE LIKES ME! ZAYN FUCKING MALIK FUCKING LIKES ME!" Chelsea screamed at the top of her lungs. Smiling, she stepped back from the window and took it all in. She just wished that Crystal had heard her outburst. Oh, how she wanted to call Crystal & tell her what happened. Chelsea knew that she would have no other choice to believe her then. It wasn't so unbelievable the first time, but haters gonna hate. She reached for her phone to call Crystal and unlocked it, opening up her messages. Wait, I don't remember sending that, she thought to herself. It was a nude picture of herself, and the person she was texting had already read it, so she went to delete it. As she clicked on the 'delete' option, she caught a glimpse of who she had sent it to: Zayn.
Chelsea cursed and screamed and hollered all throughout the house with anger. She was terrified! Yes, she liked him, but it didn't hide the fact that she didn't know him like that. Every single thought was running through her mind: 'What if he sends it to a friend?', 'What if he shares it with his followers on Instagram? on Twitter?', 'What if it gets leaked to the entire world?!' She did not feel good and felt like she was going to die. All she wanted to do was curl up and die because she didn't know exactly what to do. Chelsea's morning just went from uber-fantastic to being dragged to hell , and it was only 11:30. Chelsea was getting herself so worked up that she decided that she needed to go cool off.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Big wheels keep on turning, carry me home to see my kin..."
Chelsea continued to jog on the treadmill as Ronnie Van Zant sang into her headphones. For some reason, Lynyrd Skynyrd seemed to help her calm down. They made her smile and cry. At this given moment, though, Chelsea didn't know what emotion to feel. She was anxious and angry and all over the place, so she went to work out to get it out of her head; unfortunately, it wasn't working. She needed a bigger distraction.
Someone began tapping on her shoulder and they would not quit. It was always irritating when people bothered Chelsea, especially when she was trying to get her mind right. She set the machinery to a halt, paused 'Sweet Home Alabama' and yanked her headphones out of her ears in a quick, frustrated motion.
"Yes?" Chelsea growled through her teeth as she turned around slowly and began to breath heavily.
"Chelsea Holly, is that you?" the individual said.
"No, I'm just another fat black chick from Chelsea with the exact same first and last name. Oh course, it's me, Henry!" she replied with a smile. She wiped the sweat off of her brows and drank some water as he began to talk.
"Okay, well, as your 'friend-ager', I got you a new gig. It's at Marquee at 11 and lasts until close. You up for it?"
"Why...would...I not...be?" Chelsea panted. Boy, she thought, I have really let myself go.
"I don't--it's $100 per hour, you're in a cage, and the theme is 'futuristic'."
"What the hell is 'futuristic'?"
"You remember when Y2K was rolling around and everyone was super into hologram shit?"
"I got you. What time do I have to get there?"
"10:30, I think."
"Okay, I'll be there. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to continue my mild jogging before I search for anything from 1999." With that, Chelsea got back to her work out, irritated that she had to spend money.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Running was hard if a girl was wearing heels, but it was even harder if she was wearing go-go boots. To make herself look stupider than most, she wore a hologram halter top and a mini skirt in 28° weather. She had on a trench coat, but did that make a difference? No, because she still looked dumb as hell. She didn't want to be late, so she left early. Sadly, traffic had a mind of its own.
Chelsea found the place without a problem and ran to the back to enter the secret knock. The bouncer/security guy looked like a creep & it smelled like earthy vagina and perfume in the back. She walked through and busted open the dressing room, and no one was there. Chelsea ran to a vanity and applied her celestial decorations (Dollar Tree stickers) to her face and styled her hair like Bridgette Bardot. She was going to look at the clock when another girl came in.
"What are you doing? Come on, we have to get in the cages!" Girly squealed. Chelsea just eyed the girl: she had little to no breasts, big feet, was skinny, and had this little pink pixie cut thing going on. There is no way in hell this chick is a go-go dancer, Chelsea thought to herself. She walked over to Chelsea, but pulled out a bottle of Tequila and two shot glasses. She poured some for the two of them and raised it up. "Here's to dancing," she said before taking her shot. Chelsea was a little nervous, so she just drank from the bottle. She got up and the two girls walked to their places.
When Chelsea looked around, she noticed that it was packed. Some of the girls were leaving their cages and some stayed. She knew that she was going to be staying & wished that she had drank some more. With the help of another girl, Chelsea got in her cage and patiently waited for her song to start. She looked down and realized that men were just staring at her like ravenous wolves waiting on her, and she took a deep breath. 'Breath on Me' by Britney Spears began to play and Chelsea swayed her hips to the beat. Soon, she started to dance seductively to the song, grinding on the bars of the cage and sliding around to see all of her customers' faces. They began to hoot and holler and call at her, making it known that they wanted more and the money was coming out. As Chelsea slid down a bar, one man reached his hand into the cave and placed some money in her skirt. The others followed suit, but some were getting too grabby. They started to squeeze her ass and one man tried to unzip her skirt when she got near him, so she stomped on his hand. It immediately turned into a circus: they started to put their hands in the cage, attempting to touch all over her and grab her, and they even tried to shake the cage.
Even though she was mildly intoxicated, she knew what she was doing. She waited until the song's climax to start kicking people in their hands and heads to keep them from hurting her.
"Get the fuck off of her!" someone yelled as they pushed towards the front. One of the guys tried to block the person, but Chelsea kicked him in the face to see who it was. It was security.
"Ma'am, it's time for you to go. We've seen you acting violently towards the customers tonight and it's not the safest place for you, so come on down." What the hell?
"W-wait a second! They've been grabbling on me and grabbling my body and I have to leave? No sir!" Chelsea slurred, upset that all of this was even happening. When they tried to reach for her, she make a kicking motion, but they got upset and unlocked her cage. One of them picked her up and threw her over his shoulder as they made it out of her cage. She began to start kicking and squirming before one grabbed her feet and the other grabbed her arms.
"No! They started it! Let me go right now! T-this is my song, and I am the s-star!" Chelsea screamed as she continued to squirm and try to get free. They kept carrying her until they threw her out the back door and into the alley, scrapping her side and leg. She wanted to go back in and fight them all, but it hurt too much and they threw her coat over her head.
"Holy shit, are you okay?" someone asked her. With her good arm, she removed her jacket from her head and checked to see if the guy looked like a rapist. It was not.
"No, I'm not okay, and what the fuck are you doing here?"
YOU ARE READING
Trainspotting for a Heroin Dream
Fanfiction"Sometimes, I feel like no one's listening to me, like I'm invisible or unimportant. In other words, I have no one." "Well, I'm always listening, even when you're talking in your sleep. I see you each and every day...even when we're apart, I see you...
