The Broken Dancer

A Boy's Truth

The brothel was bright with the sounds of cheers and music, an uproar from all the loud customers and heavy thumping of R&B songs as the noises echoed around the room and traveled throughout the walls. It was ten pm on a Friday evening and the night was just getting started, people coming off of the streets and flowing into the underground bordello excited to see what it had to offer. Rowdy men and drunk women would stumble into the hidden club alone or in large groups of tens like they did every night, looking for some entertainment and maybe a night of pleasure with one of the attractive workers, excited to see where the night would take them. 

The air was cool tonight, it being mid April with only a slight breeze in the sky and a few rain showers throughout the day to water the plants and welcome the Spring. In other words, the perfect time to spend outside moving from club to club dancing and drinking and leaving all worries behind. 

The employees of the 'Ilh-eobeolin Cheonsa' were used to this kind of crowd, already dressed up and prepared to service the customers like usual and as rehearsed. Some of them were already out on stage performing; showing off their dance routines and spinning around the metal poles that protruded from floor to ceiling and shimmered underneath the stage lights. Some were hovered over the clients sat on the sofas, dancing and swaying their hips in provocative movements as they fulfilled their duty of a lap-dance. Others were just merely waiters and waitresses, carrying out trays of drinks and wiping down the empty tables whenever a customer had left, disappearing behind the bar whenever they had finished their jobs. 

 At the very back of the room, behind the wide stage and large velvet blue curtain that hung against the wall, stood a boy with ashy blonde hair and round chubby cheeks. His head was poking out from behind the drapes to catch a glimpse of the atmosphere, his dark brown eyes roaming around the room to take in the people to see who were regulars and which of them were newcomers. The young boy took notes in his head trying to figure out which tables to avoid and which of them would tip the best. His eyes were locked onto a large group of men, watching as they chugged down their drinks and carelessly threw their money at the dancers on stage, not caring if their notes were even reaching the show-girls or falling onto the floor in front of them. 

The boy bit his bottom lip and cursed under his breath as he saw their rude behaviour and disgusting habits, making a note of where they were sat and aiming to avoid their side of the room not wanting anything to do with them. His small tanned hand released it's hold on the curtain and let it fall back into place, shutting out the blazing lights and muffling the music that was blaring from the speakers. He'd seen more than his fair share of ill-mannered patrons in his nineteen years of life and knew better than to try and entertain them in fear that they would grope him in places he didn't want to be touched and manhandled too roughly. Every night he would stand hidden behind the velvet curtain and gaze across the room at all their consumers, eager to catch sight of what type of people were visiting the brothel that evening. 

He took a deep breath to calm himself, preparing for when he would have to be out there flaunting his lean body in front of people he didn't know. His heart was hammering in his chest and he placed his right hand up to cover it in hopes it would slow it down and ease his nerves. No matter how many times he did this, he could never fight the bile that rose up in his throat and the anxiousness of performing half naked in front of those people. Internally he froze, as he watched the other workers dash about back stage, preparing themselves to spend an evening pleasuring and amusing the dozens of customers that entered into the building night after night. 

With another deep breath, the boy shook his head from side to side in effort to clear his mind, twisting around to find his dressing area and to stare at himself in the mirror. His face was caked in makeup with thick foundation layered on in hopes to cover the bruises that littered across his temple and right cheekbone. His light brown eyebrows were drawn on in order for them to appear straighter and neat, and his eyelids were coated in shades of brown and blacks elongating his eye shape to look like those of a cat. Underneath his waterline and in the center of his lids, he had applied a sparkling shimmery silver eye shadow, that when caught under the fluorescent lights made his eyes appear brighter and bigger than they actually were, and with two silver gems stuck underneath to give his face a more theatrical appearance. His lips were coated in a soft pink gloss showing them to be thicker and plumper than normal and his pale blonde hair had been slicked back and styled to sit neatly on top of his head. Overall he resembled a young and innocent boy with perfect tanned skin and smooth features, when underneath he was damaged and scarred like an old used childhood toy.