Joey POV
I leave my house in tears, slowly making my way to work hoping my puffy cheeks and red eyes will wear off by the time I check in. My lips busted but I can play it off as a hard lip bite. I walk in a fast pace only to end up falling face first into the grass. I sit there for a moment catching my breath. Trying to forget what happened, but it's no use. That memory will stick with me till the day I die and there is no blocking it out. I stand back up and limp over to the doors of my job, I'm bombarded with loud music and bright flashing, seizure causing light. I push through the crowd to my dressing room where I change into my usual attire, which are a tight black ripped muscle shirt and a sparkling speedo.
I've never quite liked this job but it's all I can do as of right now, and what I just experienced proves it. I know I'm alone, and that's dangerous in my job. I step into the back of the large stage and stand there looking out at the crowd of boys fists in the air, money flying around. I hear a speaker announcing my stage name while the former performer gets off. Mumbling something while he walks past. I didn't quite understand it until I was done my dance for the crowd. There is one guy in the back at the bar, smirking at me. When my song ends he looks at the doors then back at me, raising an eyebrow. I shake my head, telling him no and I get off the stage. I return to my dressing room and change out of my clothes. I'm almost positive they don't get washed ever, so I throw them out. I have another set that my boss recently bought for me because the others were ripped. I walk back out of my room and sit at the bar, my shift is over but I don't plan on going home. So I sit and hope for someone to notice the pain I'm in. But no one does. No one ever does. Society works like that, they think strip clubs are a fun place and the strippers are just there for fun. But most of us are forced into this career because we have no money or have daddy issues. None of us want to be like this, it's pathetic.
-time skip
I wake up in the hotel I checked into and turn the old television on. I lay there for a minute but eventually get up and shower. Once my body has dried I put on the same clothes from the day before and check out of the room. I drive to the closest coffee shop and I order a croissant and a camomile tea. I sit at a an empty table and wait for my order to be delivered. A few moments later a young brown haired boy walks over with what looks to be my order.
"Camomile tea and croissant?", the I assume to be waiter asks.
"Yes thank you" I say smiling at the young boy. I've gotten really good at hiding my sadness. Or so I thought.
"Are you okay? you seem down." The nameless waiter asks me. And I don't know what to say. No one has ever taken an interest in me. I have no one. People at work just glance at me and always look disgusted. I don't have any family. So this is all new territory.
"Oh uh, yeah, I guess I'm just tired." I say shrugging and taking a sit of my tea.
"Okay well if you need anything else just call for Daniel, I can be your waiter for today." He smiles at me and walks away. I don't think much of this because I just assume he has to be nice to customers. And I'm just a customer that will leave and he won't ever think of. So I sit and drink my tea.
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Heyo, I've been gone for like a year but I'm back. I don't think I'll be finishing my other stories because they don't really interest me anymore. But I'll update this one as much as I can.
