Loving A Stripper (Editing)

chapter 1🌈

Grace

The heavy beat that shook the building was nothing compared to the pounding of my heart as I sat before the large dressing mirror. I let my eyes rest on the door and shoke my head as Monica rushed in nearly missing a step.

"Girlfriend! Your guy wants us to attend to him." He hands flew to her chest.

Jesus, watin dey pursue her?

"Just us," She averted her stares to Jennifer, rolling her eyes like dice at the little lady sitting beside me.

Obviously not affected by Monica's attitude, Jennifer placed her hands on her chin her attention waved to our conversation.

"Which of my guy?"

Monica unwrapped her body and fold her white flur, unveiling her black bra and back fish net. "That old man."

"Which old man? you know many men come here."

"No wig today?" Jennifer inquired, her eyes now fixed on the mirror in front of her as she applied a red lipstick.

"No need." I brushed my braided hair and exhaled as my reflection stared back with a little light of stress that escaped my makeup.

"That man with white hair, and oversized coat that looks like it cost a million bucks."

I turned to Monica as she explained, while picking her black mask from the table.

"Hm, we both know..." I picked my heels and fixed the buckle. "That man is just obsessed."

"Who won't be, look at you."

"I didn't mean with me."

"Grace wear your mask, we are next to perform before we attend to your boyfriend." Monica picked her mask from the drawer before her and gave me a smile that displayed her inner thoughts.

"Unlike you bitch, I don't do oldies."

She bursts into laughter leading the way out of the dressing room to the stage beside the bar. It was my last performance for the weekend and despite swinging the pole for a year already, I still felt sweat rolled down my back as we waited back stage.

"Are you ready?" Monica inquired as Vicky the anchor for the week introduced us to the plastered crowd of young and old.

"I am, are you?"

She nodded and gave her cocky smile. Immediately, we walked past the curtains into the stage as Sweat by Sarz ft Wurld came up.

I slowly cat-walked to the pole in the middle of the stage and swayed my waist to the music before doing a split that aroused the devil in the crowed as they yelled and naira notes bowed before me.

***

"Speaking of men... Last week I didn't get to see you much. Is there anyone in the picture again?" Monica's brows were raised as she pulled her black fish-net tight up her waist while I reapplied my lipstick.

"After Ken? Sweetheart no one," I said, swiftly changing my red heels to black ones.

"What? so because of Ken you have chained your heart with padlock?" She tilted her head and pressed her lips tightly. "That's stupid... You are young, you need to explore men and-"

"Don't worry when your heart gets broken you will tell me if it's something small, besides you know what he did," I said, as my mind trilled to the incident.

Finding out Ken cheated throughout our so called romantic relationship was a cube of ice to the disastrous fact he nearly raped my fourteen-year-old sister. I couldn't imagine what would have happened if I hadn't gotten home on time to meet the drugged and almost lifeless... Shaking my head, I brushed the thought away as goosebumps crept my body.

"You know what I mean, and the truth be say hearkbreak no fit happen to me. I do sugar daddy baby, nothing more or less."

"Don't worry, those women will gang up and attack you soon, then your eyes will open." I paused and mimicked her. "I do sugar daddy nothing more or less, asshole."

She burst into laughter as her brown eyes teared up.

"Anyways, last week I was job hunting but I've gotten a new job at Sharion as... A receptionist."

"Seriously? Above everything you decided to be a receptionist?"

"I also decided to be a stripper, no forget that part."

"Wait, it means I won't be seeing you everyday?" She inquired, her voice reduced to a softness that made me smile.

"I will be here during the weekends. Natalie is preparing for her Junior Waec and I need more money. Stop to dey act like pikin."

"I can help Grace, all you have to do is ask." She placed her hands on mine. As I stared into her eyes I saw it... Her orbs were lighted with red strokes that could not be ignored.

It was...

Pity.

I hated being pitied and never longed for the weak emotion to be directed at me or my sister.

My parents died during an air-crash and all their properties were inherited by unknown relatives.  Relatives who never stepped foot into our house when they were alive but once the news of their death got announced they appeared, like lions that finally found their preys.

They took away everything; the house, the cars, and money, not taking into consideration how I was to fend for myself and my thirteen-year-old sister.

I patted her hands and fixed my mask with a smile. "Let's go, that man will be waiting for us."

We greeted the bouncer in charge of the inner room and  immediately, I caught sight of the old man in his grey oversized coat, speaking to a younger man who seemed to be in his early thirties. 

Strolling closer, I took in the feature of the young man; his fair skin was noticeable despite the blue lights in the inner room, his hair was styled in a low cut, his Beard's also low unlike the wide thugs in the street of Lagos State Nigeria.

My eyes moved to his thick lips and on cue, he turned to us, his action was followed by the old man who waved us forward.

Moving behind Monica, I took my seat beside the young gentleman. His white long sleeves shirts hugged his built body but the look of disappointment washed through his face as the old man introduced him to us as his son.

***