Kiana
I’m practically hyperventilating when I get back to the dressing room.
I saw a familiar face. Not just any familiar face. Bram Ward. My father’s best friend. Well, he used to be. I don’t know how long it’s been since they’ve talked.
I never thought Bram would be the kind of guy who would come to a place like this. He always had a girlfriend, rarely the same one between visits. I had a crush on him when I was younger. I always wondered what it would be like to be the woman on his arm, but those were the fantasies of a teenage girl.
I didn’t live out my fantasy tonight.
I danced my way straight into a nightmare.
I want to vomit. For the first time in a week. I was just getting used to taking the stage without battling nausea the entire time.
My stomach feels worse than it ever has right now.
“Are you okay, Kiana?” Rhonda walks into my dressing room with a look of concern on her face. “Did you see someone you know out there?”
“Yeah.” I follow my response with a nod, and what color is left in my face begins to drain. “One of my father’s friends…”
“It happens.” She sits down and puts an arm around me. “Probably won’t be the last time either. I’ve had my share of ghosts in the audience—people I never wanted to see me on a stage.”
“You seem to really love it out there,” I say with a sigh.
“Not always,” she replies and shakes her head. “It does get easier, though. If you stick with it. God made you beautiful. People are going to stare whether you walk down the street or dance on a stage. At least this way you get paid for those dirty thoughts.”
“That’s one way of thinking about it, I suppose.” Another sigh passes my lips.
Rhonda has a way of making me feel better. She’s done that almost every single night. She’s a lot more comforting than Max. He’ll be in my dressing room any minute to tell me that I need to get out on the floor and serve drinks. I don’t really have a choice. Hopefully, Bram will be gone by then.
I don’t want him to ask questions I’m not ready to answer.
But that may be the least of my worries.
What if he calls my father?
“Kiana, get your ass out there. People are asking for you.” Max appears at my door and snaps his fingers at me.
“Yes, sir.” I check my makeup one more time before I stand up.
They’re asking for me, but they won’t get what they want. Max still hasn’t given me permission to take anyone behind the curtain for a lap dance. I’m not sure why. I was scared of doing it the first few nights, but after seeing how much money the girls who dance make, I’ve become rather numb to the idea.
The faster I pay my brother’s debt, the faster this will be over. The faster I can get on with my life.
I walk into the main part of the club one sheepish step at a time with my eyes peeled. Bram’s table is empty. Someone is already cleaning it off. I scan the room and don’t see him. That’s the best outcome I could hope for in the moment. If he calls my father, I’ll have to deal with that later. For now, I have work to do.
“Bill just asked for a fresh drink.” The bartender, Steve, puts a glass of bourbon down in front of me. “He asked for you to deliver it.”
“Okay…” I sigh and reach for the drink.
Bill. He still wants his lap dance. Max told he would take it into consideration when the time is right. I’m not even sure if I’m opposed to the idea anymore. A week ago, I thought Bill was rather revolting. I’ve come to realize that the regulars treat all of the girls better than the random people that stumble in. The regulars don’t want to be asked to leave. They’re respectful enough to make sure that doesn’t happen.
“I hear you were asking for me.” I walk up to Bill’s table and put his drink down.
“I sure was.” He looks up at me and smiles. “The drinks are always better when you bring them.”
“Aw, thank you.” I force the biggest smile I can put on my face.
“Still not dancing”—he motions to the curtains—“back there?”
“No, not yet.” I shake my head. “I haven’t forgotten what you said; I’ll let you know.”
The conversation with Bill is brief. I might be his new favorite, but I don’t have much to offer if he can’t take me behind the curtain. The other girls on the stage are more interesting until then.
My thoughts are still spinning after seeing Bram. I really don’t know how it is going to play out. He may keep my secret, or he could have already called my father. He could come charging through the door at any minute with more disappointment in his eyes than he’s ever had for me, and that’s saying a lot considering our history.
I spend the rest of my evening delivering drinks, pretending to enjoy salacious, dirty comments, and being a tease to everyone who notices me. I’ve learned to mimic what the other girls do. They probably learned from the ones who were there before them. One long lineage of devious grins, batted eyelashes, and short skirts that hide what they’ve already seen.
“You should stick around tonight.” Rhonda walks up to me as I’m making my way back to the dressing room. “Max is throwing a party after we close.”
“Oh?” I give her a surprised look. “He does that?”
“Sometimes.” She smiles and nods. “We had a good week. You were part of it. It’s your party too.”
“I’ll think about it.” I wave and continue walking to my dressing room.
A party. I haven’t been to many of those. I had plenty of opportunities to disappoint my parents without coming home late with alcohol on my breath.
It feels weird to get absorbed into the culture of the club, but I can tell that it’s happening. It’s becoming routine. If my guard is lowering after a week, what will it be like in a month? In three months? What about when I finally have enough money to pay off my brother’s debt?
I really shouldn’t stay. I should count my money and go back to my apartment. But it’s been a long week. I could use a drink, especially after seeing Bram in the crowd. Instead of slipping out when I’m allowed to, I linger in my dressing room until the club starts closing down. I’m hardly recognizable in my regular attire—to people that only know me as Lavender Rose, at least. The last few customers don’t even give me a second look when I walk back out to the main part of the club.
“Are you staying?” Will, the bouncer that normally watches the back door, looks over at me when I walk to the bar.
“Yeah, I think I’ll have a drink.” I smile and sit down.
“There’s going to be a lot more than alcohol on the menu tonight.” He chuckles under his breath and pulls a bag filled with white powder out of his pocket. “Want some?”
“Uh, no—no, thank you.” I quickly hold up my hand and decline his offer for what I assume is cocaine.
Steve pours me a drink. Wine. The hardest thing I’ve ever had except for that one time at a party when I tried a shot of vodka. I’m a lightweight. I found that out a long time ago. The glass of wine will give me a buzz, and I’ll need someone to walk me to a cab if I have two.