CLOSER | H.S.

01.

Scarlet's pov.

"Who's this whisper telling me that I'm never gonna get away?"

One Direction — Stockholm Syndrome

-

I couldn't open my eyes in the morning, my mascara glued my eyelashes together. I barely started the day and it already sucks. Rubbing my eyes, I climbed out of my mattress. Of course, I don't have a bed. It's hard to have luxury when you're a fucking pole-dancer. That was not my expectations of working as a dancer when I moved to London. I think about it every day, how my life took a twisted turn, how a dream can be destroyed so easily. It's not like the songs; dreams don't come true.

When I got into the shower there was still some bills stuffed inside of my panties. Fives, mostly. There was a fifty, which made my day a lot better. I have no idea who gave it to me, probably that rich guy who had closed the club- he owned a very successful clothing line, apparently he matters. I kept my bills safe and went to my shower, but the hot water didn't last much.

"Lara, for fuck's sake!" I yelled. We were taking a shower at the same time.

I cleaned myself quickly and met her stumbling and rushing out of our small apartment.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry", she slammed the door, I didn't even get to ask where she was going.

"I can see that."

We were both strippers. I got to pole dance because of my skills. I studied ballet my whole life, but couldn't get into the academy I wanted, couldn't get the job I was hoping and much less the place I wanted to live in. My life turned into complete trash as I followed my dreams. I lived on the streets for a few weeks, until the job on a strip club called "The Gentleman" came up and I couldn't say no to that. Lara was sweet to me, she let me stay here until I got my first pay check even though I was just a stranger that came up from her ad in the newspaper. We found out that we are very different but very similar, that brought us closer.

I was still on my towels when I looked at our centre table and there it was. My pink pipe. I haven't even had breakfast yet... But... I'm not hungry. I sat on the cheap couch that wasn't mine, grabbed the lighter and the pipe, luckily there was still the rest of a small stone lying there, enough for one hit. That should do. The stone wasn't mine either, but Lara wouldn't mind. I lit it and pulled the white fog to the inside on my mouth, to my throat, to my lungs. I held it in as much as I could, but when I started to see black spots I was obligated to let it out, coughing in the process. I wanted to get the best I could from that one drag.

That's when brutal knocks on my door started, making me jump on the couch, burning my leg with the pipe, but I didn't verbalize my pain. I didn't want to open, I still owed money to my drug dealers. Maybe if I stay really quiet...

"Scarlet, I'm gonna bring this fucking door down if you don't open!" Greg's familiar voice shouted. I knew he could do it and I couldn't afford getting a new door.

I made my way to the entrance. I unlocked it hesitatingly and slowly opened. The door was kicked and almost hit my face- that's when I knew they weren't here for talking.

"Oh hey, she's wearing a towel", a skinny tall guy said. I didn't know him. Usually Greg comes here alone to charge me, but this time he brought two extra guys. I am so screwed.

"You like it?" I tried to get my way out of this by flirting with him, in vain. He shook his head.

"Whores..."

I'm not a fucking whore.

"Do you have the money?" Greg walked towards me, making me walk a few steps back until my spine met a wall. My heart was beating so fast it could bruise my chest. I am definitely screwed.