"Red you're next."I faintly smiled to Mr. Z whose back is on me.
It has been a year, yet I am still not used to this. Wearing close to nothing. Paint my face with thick make-ups. And, unruly wavy hair, looking a tramp. Well, practically I am a tramp, dancing every night in front of horny males waiting to pound her.
Deep breathe,Tori. You can do this. I chanted on my mind as I set foot on backstage, for my grand entrance.
Lights are dim and only the intro of Selena's— Good for you— pierced throught the silence.
That's my cue.
Stepping on the stage, where it was covered with a very thin red curtain, I draw a very large breath and start swaying my hips in tune to the song.
To where I am, the shouts and hoots of the men are very clear. Others, might have been eager to show more but I don't. I feel disgusted. Disgusted of myself and how low I was. Surely, there are lot of jobs offered, decent and respectable, but the pay isn't enough.
With closed eyes, I keep on swaying and doing things what a stripper should normally do for the horny customers. The only good thing here is, I don't need to show my face and whole, all I need to do is dance with a spotlight from my back to give everyone a silhoutte foreplay show.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Girl Behind Curtains
General Fiction"This is me. Now, will you still love me?" - Victoria
