So I wasn't gonna continue with this dumb thing but then I was going for a run and only had my really old middle school iPad with me. This song by Chris Brown came on (ironically enough) and I was like DANG 2/3 of my best friends irl are/were "dancers." Frick it I'll add some more. I can use my own by-proxy life experiences as the token prude loser in every group to write a relatively telling account as to why I'm probably better off repressed. You know what they say about religious bitches and BDSM, right? If you don't, just look it up. Point being they probably are more screwed up than not. So, here's the next part. There will be three. Stay tuned if I already haven't offended ye. Nah, I mean most of my stuff involves demons so I MeAn....
OH AND YEAH, If I never mentioned this I totally speak Spanish. Finally my degree in History/Language/Politics/Pre-Law can be put to a good, cost-effective use. Ha!
(Well, since I got a scholarship it was free but... okay enough peacocking. TO THE CLUB!)
________________________
-Ten years later-
Sometime in the early 1950s
Buenos Aires
________________________
"{Y/N}, they're ready for you now."
"Are you sure Ola can't go on for me tonight? I think I'm getting too old for this."
"You're like what, 26?"
"Yeah...that's not...yeah." You were about a decade older, minus a few years. You didn't make a point to let people know.
"Well, tough break. You're popular here. It's not ever night these lost souls get to see a beautiful German girl with tetas the size of tapirs."
"Wow that's not crude at all." You sighed. "Could I take rain check just this once?"
"Not a chance. You're our top girl. Now get out there and shake your money-maker, little miss Berlin. I'd fire you, but we'd go under."
"You're a terrible friend, Chel."
"I'm your boss during business hours." She wiggled her hips, at the moment less covered than yours. "Now go make us rich." She pulled you to your feet and slapped your ass, not asking permission before adjusting your skimpy bra.
You started to slump away before putting on your game face, but an angry man dressed to the nines stormed in, cursing furiously in Spanish. You exhaled, relieved and hopeful that the night might have taken an unexpectedly sour turn and you'd close early.
You swore in German when you found out you were terribly wrong.
"Chel! Are you a total idiot? Today we have extremely important clients coming from overseas! I want her out and dressed, just like the rest of you! Every girl we have! We're doing the persona thing!"
You and Chel both groaned. "Not the persona thing!"
"It's such a cliche!"
"Horny, drunk businessmen like cliches. The more frivolous the better. We'll take all their money before they realise how stupid they were." He rubbed his hands together and twirled his moustache like a cartoonish evil villain. Chel leaned over and whispered in awfully executed German to you, but thankfully your big-boss didn't speak anything but the variant of Spanish specifically used in Argentina.
"Yeesssss yesss beautiful moneyyyy."
"He's a cliche."
"What?"
YOU ARE READING
Reader One-Shots {Anime}
Fanfiction"Excellent!" He laughed victoriously as he turned to leave and you smiled and walked inside. You felt an uncut sense of happiness as you did so, like a glittering jewel had been unearthed in your heart, taking the place of the dullness which had pre...
