Carnal

The soft vibrations of the car’s motor matched my pulse as I sat in the rusty Buick. I avoided Jonah’s eyes, taking in the two story stucco building with its large oak double doors and the pink neon sign that read “Mystique.” Unoriginal, but I understood the aesthetic. The owners probably thought it sounded classy, set them apart from the other clubs. The sun hadn’t set yet, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. There was something sad about a club in the daytime. What was this feeling? Isolation? Loneliness? Abandonment? Even behind the privacy fence that hid the Buick in the gravel parking lot, I felt exposed here in the daylight. I watched as, slowly, cars pulled into a parking lot. A red Mazda parked a few yards away, and two girls exited dressed in loose tank tops and leggings. I followed them with my eyes, watching one of the girls float across the pavement, seemingly unaware of the rocks under her black platform pumps. Her black, tight curls were piled on top of her head, and she pulled a Louis Vuitton rolling suitcase behind her with a Louis Vuitton tote tucked under her arm. She looked like an ambassador for the brand. Her friend looked more comfortable in red and white trainers, a pink canvas travel bag and a Gucci shoulder bag. She tossed her long blonde curls behind her shoulder. The two girls glanced warily at the Buick before they disappeared behind the oak doors.

I dug my short, chipped fingernails into my Walmart backpack and stared at my pale thighs exposed by my cutoff denim shorts. My wavy hair fell in my, and I made a mental note of the red split ends.

Kate, we can leave,” Jonah said gently. I felt guilty for putting him in this position. I knew he didn’t want to bring me here, drop me off, but I was afraid to come alone. It was selfish; I should have taken a cab.

I’m sorry. I should’ve come alone,” I said.

Are you kidding? Look…” he struggled to find the right words, careful not to cross any boundaries. “I’d rather you have me drop you off and pick you up than not tell me. At least then I know you’re okay.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing’s going to happen. This is literally a job. People come here every day.” I could sense myself trying to convince myself as well.

I’m just saying you don’t have to if you don’t want to. We can turn around and go to a party, or Denny’s, or we can go somewhere and study for finals. Shit, we should be studying. I should be studying.”

He was right. If he didn’t get a B in Statistics, he was going to fail. I, on the other hand, was confident that I would make the Dean’s List this semester unless I bombed my Organic Chemistry final. I ignored the chemistry anxiety was building. “I’m negative,” I said, holding up my backup. “I bought all this dancing crap, and I already popped the tags.”

How much did you spend?”

Like $200,” I mumbled, squinting out the window at the setting sun.

On what?” Jonah yelled, out of disbelief no anger.

I threw my hands in the air, shaking my head. “Thongs, outfits, shoes…”

$200 on thongs?” Jonah repeated.

And shoes! The shoes alone were $100,” I said looking at his pimply face. “And the thongs are these no slip things.” When Jonah didn’t say anything I continued, “And I had to buy something to wear over it because I have to have something to take off. That’s the whole point.”

“$200?” he repeated.

“It was an investment! I’ll make it back and more.” But I wasn’t entirely confident.

“Where did you get the money?”

“I’m not completely broke,” I said. “Well, now I am. But I won’t be after tonight.” He was silent again. “And I already got hired. The manager made a copy of my ID and everything. I told him I’d work tonight.”

“It’s not that kind of job.” Jonah’s thick eyebrows were pulled tight in the center of his forehead. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“Why are you acting like I’m being forced to do this? Why are you acting like I’m committing some carnal sin? Should I change my name to Hester? That would be a good stage name, wouldn’t it?” I was irrationally angry. I knew Jonah wasn’t judging me, but my shallow breaths were too loud for me to think clearly. I was walking into a world that I didn’t understand, my only education coming from romantic Hollywood interpretations. My head was filled with voices revising calculations, repeating bank account balances, running through too many scenarios where my presence here was discovered. Jonah’s concern was one voice too many.

“I’m sorry,” Jonah whispered. “I guess it’s different when you actually know the person.”

“It’s just until I get enough to pay my dorm fees for fall, and then I’ll figure something out. It’s just…I need the money now.”

“There are options…” his voice trailed off, knowing his words were useless. We had already had this conversation.

“How much student loan debt do you have?” Jonah looked at his fingers gripping the steering wheel. He remained silent. “I’ve made it this far on scholarships. I have made it this far, alone. I will never be a burden to anyone, not even myself. I have one more year, that’s it. And I’ll graduate debt free. Do you realize how freeing that is? This?” I pointed a finger at the building in front of me, waving it side to side. “Is nothing. This is a choice. This, for me, is worth it.” I placed both hands on my chest, and Jonah looked into my eyes. “I don’t feel forced,” I continued. “It’s not what I planned. It’s not what I would’ve chosen. And yeah, maybe I’m scared. But I don’t feel degraded. For me, that freedom and independence means so much more to me than one or two stupid nights at this place.”

Jonah nodded, and I forced open the door of the Buick. It screeched as it resisted my departure. I stepped out of the car and threw the backpack over my shoulders. I peeked back into the car. “They close at two,” I said.

Jonah nodded again, and I slammed the door shut. He waited while I walked slowly through the parking lot, hopping up onto the sidewalk. I looked back and waved at the car before opening one of the heavy oak doors and disappearing.

My flip flops slapped my feet as I walked down the narrow hallway. Small dim lights hovered over the carpet, guiding me to the dressing room. A strong bass kept a beat that sent vibrations through my body, my heart matching the music’s tempo. I paused in front of a door, staring at my nervous eyes in the two-way mirror. Pretend to be bored, I told myself. Pretend this is normal. I raised my chin and pulled on the handle, stepping inside the room while brushing my thick red hair behind my shoulder.

It was a large room lined with lockers almost reaching the ceiling. A handful of rolling suitcases rested on top of a few of the lockers. Floor to ceiling mirrors took up the empty spaces between the rows of lockers. A long table was attached to the mirror lined with vanity bulbs. Two girls sat in large, black chairs at the table finishing their hair and makeup while two more girls stood talking in front of the row of lockers farthest from me. I recognized one of them as the Louis Vuitton ad I had seen outside, but the blonde standing next to her wasn’t the same girl I had seen before. No one looked in my direction as I stood near the entrance, scanning the room for a locker unclaimed by a lock. I glanced one to my right and padded over the thin, tiger print carpet while fumbling in my backpack for my lock. I opened the locker, empty.

I dropped my backpack onto the floor, just missing a piece of dried gum. I hung my lock on the empty locker and bent down to find my clothes in my backpack. There wasn’t much there. I set the clothes on top of the backpack and kicked off my flip flops. In one movement, I pulled off my shorts and my underwear at once, leaving them on the floor. I grabbed the black thong and stepped into it, adjusting the tiny straps around my hipbones. I grabbed the green spandex panties and pulled them over my thong; they barely covered the thong. I slipped out of the bra and pulled it off under my shirt. I picked up the black bikini top and tied it under my shirt, then pulled off my shirt and slipped my head through the already tied straps. I shook my head as I pulled out my stilettos and stuffed my clothes and flip flops into the backpack. I picked a bad day to suddenly embrace modesty.

A tall man in a black suit walked into the room. His broad shoulders tested the strength of the seams in his jacket. He was bald with a goatee that he scratched with his pen. He held a yellow legal pad in his other hand and began glancing around the room, speaking each name aloud as he wrote them down. “Nadia, Ryan,” he said, noting the two girls sitting at the table. “Kezia,” he said, glancing at the only girl who was familiar to me. “Justine,” he said, writing the name of the Kezia’s new companion. “Name?” The man stopped to look at me.

“Um, Kate,” I said.

“Is that your real name or your stage name?”

“Oh, real name.”

“I need your stage name, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. Alice,” I said, looking down at my backpack.

He scribbled my name and opened the door. “Ten minutes if you want to make base tip out,” he said, and the door closed behind him.

I shoved the backpack into the locker and closed the lock, spinning the dial. I spotted an empty chair between the two girls sitting at the table and walked over, sitting down to put on my stilettos and adjust the straps. The girl on my left, Nadia, looked me over before going back to curling her bleached hair. Her black roots peeked out of her teased crown. Her makeup creased in the small lines around her eyes and mouth, and a small portion of loose skin caved into her belly button when she leaned forward. When she sat up, though, her shoulders fell back revealing a confident, statuesque figure. She unplugged her flat iron and began finger combing her long curls. The girl on my right, Ryan, was paler than me, or at least her black hair made her look that way. I tried not to count her ribs as she sat back in the chair scrolling through her phone. Her panties hung loose from her hips, and the caked on concealer was no match for the dark circles under her eyes.

Behind me, a locker slammed, and Justine began to raise her voice.

“I don’t give a shit if he tries to tell Roy,” she yelled. “What does he think Roy’s going to do anyway?”

“I know,” Kezia said as she adjusted the straps of her pink bra. “I’m just saying to watch yourself. Maybe play by the rules for a while.”

“I bet that’d be good for you, wouldn’t it?” Justine’s blonde waves fell to the center of her back. She stood tall in her white seven inch stilettos. Her sun kissed skin contoured her thin legs and flat stomach. Her blue lace bra cupped large, perfectly round breasts, the handiwork of a very talented doctor.

Kezia stood just as tall. Her lean muscles flexed as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She had let her curls down, and they framed her high cheekbones and red lips, bouncing when she turned her head. “How would this be good for me?” she asked.

“I’m on the bench, and now you suddenly have more opportunities for extras.”

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not on the bench. But did you ever think that you might be pissing some people off by walking around here acting like you own the place, acting like the rules don’t apply to you? You act like there’s no consequences…”

“Look in the mirror, bitch. You’re no saint.”

“But I’m not the one with a target on my back.”

“Save it. You can drop the concerned act now.”

“I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Yeah. Keep it to yourself.” Justine pulled out her phone and began texting someone, tapping the screen with long, angry nails.

Kezia turned back to her locker, grabbing a handful of jewelry and detangling the shiny metals.

I shrunk in my chair, intimidated by the presence of the two women, apparently made by Mattel. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and touched my thin lips. Why hadn’t I brought any lipstick? I grabbed a handful of hair and ran my fingers through it. It fell to my shoulders, limp. Then, I looked at my stomach, the pooch announcing the evidence of my traditional late night Cheez-it binge.

“You don’t have to be a model,” Ryan said.

I looked up at her, but she was still scrolling through her phone. “I’m sorry?”

She rolled her eyes and closed her phone. “You’re a stripper, not a model,” she said, throwing her phone in her clutch. “Everyone looks good in the dark.” She hooked her fingers into the sides of her falling panties and picked them up before walking out the door.

I hadn’t thought to bring a clutch. Where was I going to put my money? Then a horrible thought entered my mind. What if I didn’t make any money? What if I left here owing money instead?

I stood up quickly, scanning through numbers in my head. I wobbled on my cartoonishly high platforms, my ankles feeling brittle under my newly distributed weight.

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” Nadia said, rubbing lotion into her legs in long, even strokes.

I stared at her, confused.

She stopped what she was doing and looked at me. She spoke very clearly, like she was speaking to a child. “There are rules, yes, but do whatever you want. Just don’t get caught. And don’t do anything you don’t want to do. You’re the boss here.” She looked away and began massaging lotion into her arms.

I turned back to the door, and forced my feet to lift my heavy shoes. I pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, following the sound of the music that was getting louder.

I entered the dark room illuminated by dancing lights of red, blue, green, and yellow. I focused on the DJ booth and maneuvered my way through the dense field of tables with large black chairs tucked neatly beneath them. Candles were placed on the tables, creating warmth and privacy in the black room. I walked stiffly, still trying to figure out the rhythm of walking in my heels. The mirrors that lined the walls announced my timid presence to the staff.

I climbed the short staircase to the DJ booth. A tall, thin man was scrolling through files on a computer, his hair pulled into a bun on top of his head.

“What do you need?” he asked before looking up from his computer. When he looked at my face, he was surprised, puzzled for a moment. “Oh,” he said. Then he placed a finger on the yellow legal pad previously in possession by the bouncer. He silently read the growing list of names. “Alice?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Eric,” he said, holding his hand out to me.

I shook his hand and watched as he scribbled the time next to my name.

“7:56,” he said. “You made base tip out. Twenty bucks at the end of the night. You pay me. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Music?”

“What?”

“What do you like? What do you want to dance to?”

“Oh. Rock?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Um, like Deftones?”

He let out a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll announce your name when it’s your turn on stage. You get two songs. Usually, you’ll stay dressed for the first song and undress for the second. Keep your thong on.” Eric began shaking his head in frustration. “A girl last week got completely naked on stage. It took us long a minute to figure out why everyone was cheering so loud. I don’t know what that bitch was thinking. If TABC had been here…” He shook his head. “Just watch the other girls. You’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

“If you need anything, just ask me or Roy. You already met him, right?”

“Yeah, he did my interview.”

He nodded, “Cool. If you don’t see him on the floor, he’s probably in his office, but like I said, you can just ask me. Or you can ask me to call him.”

“Okay.”

“Good luck.” He went back to working on his computer.

I carefully descended the stairs and found an empty chair in a dark corner. I sat down and absorbed my new surroundings. I counted at least twelve girls sitting lazily in chairs scattered throughout the room, waiting for the club to open. Some sat in pairs, laughing at the expense of the men from the night before. Their bikinis and matching bras and panties glowed under the black lights. Others lounged, legs hanging over the arms of the chairs while the light from their phones revealed faces protruding from the shadows. I recognized Ryan and the blonde girl I had seen outside. The other girls must have arrived earlier, not taking the risk of paying more than twenty dollars to work tonight.

A large door opened across from the room, and three men entered. They paused, looking around the room, and then pointed at a table tucked near the private dance area, but with a clear view of the stage. A pair of gentlemen in suits entered behind them. They walked straight to the bar, sitting on bar stools and shaking the hand of the bartender in a familiar fashion. A few of the girls sat up straight, watching them, allowing them time to start drinking and get comfortable before making a carefully timed move.  

Eric’s voice boomed over the microphone. He spoke quickly, letting his words run together. “Good evening, everyone, and thank you for visiting our lovely ladies here at Mystique. We’ll be getting the show on the road in just a few moments with the beautiful Natalia, but first just a reminder to respect and tip your bartender and waitress. And please don’t forget your DJ. That’s me. Be sure to ask your waitress about our private rooms and bottle service, the elite way to enjoy the company of these beautiful women tonight. And don’t be stingy, get those dances. These ladies are working hard for you tonight, and they know how to show you a good time. Trust me, I know. So let’s get the evening started with the beautiful Natalia. Natalia to the stage.”

Natalia was short, but her platforms were so high, she looked close to six feet tall. She was curvy, but most of her curves resided in her lower region. She walked slowly to the stage, her wide hips producing an involuntary sashay. She climbed the steps to the stage and placed a small bag under the rail at the top. She looked like she had covered her body in bronzer and body highlight, and the lights bounced off her shoulders and collarbone when she turned. Natalia lifted one arm above her head and grabbed the pole. She pushed herself off the ground with one leg and began a slow rotation around the pole. The muscles in her calves flexed as she made a slow spin down to the ground where she squatted, then lifted herself up, leading with her lower body. Her straight, black hair hung toward the floor. I watched as she danced, trying to determine how she lifted herself with such ease and grace. When the first song ended, she removed her bikini top and bottom, throwing them to land on top of her bag. She stood on stage in nothing but her skimpy thong, comfortable, unashamed. She placed a shin and foot behind the pole and wrapped her other leg around the pole, gripping it with her thighs. She grabbed the pole with her hands above her hand, then pushed herself up the pole using her legs. She climbed to the top and wrapped both of her legs around the pole. She allowed herself to fall bag slowly, resting her back against the metal and allowing her weight to slowly pull her back down to the ground.

I began to panic. I couldn’t do tricks. I had never been an athlete. But it was too late. I was going to have to get up on that stage at some point tonight.

I looked at the group of three men who had entered the club first. They were now accompanied by three dancers who sat on each of their laps, laughing and stroking the men’s faces. The girls who sat alone, like myself, watched as more men sprinkled into the club.

“What are you doing here, sitting all by yourself?”

I jumped, turning around to look up at the man who had startled me. He was tall and thin, likely in his mid-forties. He was clean shaven with cropped dark hair that revealed a touch of gray on the sides. He wore gray slacks and a dark blue buttoned shirt.

“I’m Stephen,” he said, offering his hand, palm facing up.

“Alice,” I said, taking his hand and standing.

“Why are you alone?” he asked again.

“Oh. Um. We just opened so…I was just giving everyone a chance to settle in before bothering anyone.”

“Well I’m here alone and could use some company.

“I think I can help with that.”

“Good.” Stephen walked to a table in a back corner. He sat in a chair, and I sat in the chair next to him. “I’ve never seen you before,” he said.

“It’s my first night.”

“Really? How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

Stephen nodded, smiling.

A waitress approached. She wore a red corset with a black skirt and black fishnet stockings. “What would you like to drink, honey?” She asked, looking at me.

I looked at Stephen. He nodded.

“Just water, please.”

The waitress nodded and walked to the bar.

“You’re not drinking?” I asked Stephen.

“I don’t drink,” he said.

“You could’ve ordered water.”

Stephen smiled. “I’m fine.” He was staring at my face, unblinking.

I put my hand to my forehead, covering my eyes. “I’m sorry. I forgot my makeup.”

“You don’t need makeup.”

I laughed and sat up straight, placing my hand back in my lap. “Thank you.”

We sat in awkward silence. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, but Stephen didn’t seem to care. He just stared at me. I looked around the room again, noticing that the club was beginning to fill up with more customers as well as more dancers. The waitress returned, and placed a bottle of water in front of me. Stephen reached into his wallet and pulled out a ten dollar bill. He handed it to the waitress and waved at her to keep the change. She nodded and left us alone. I unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took a sip.

“Are you a regular?” I asked.

“Why do you ask?”

“I got the impression you might know all the girls who work here. The waitress seemed to know that you would order me a drink but not one for yourself.”

“I come here sometimes. I’m not familiar with many of the girls, but I definitely would’ve recognized you if I had seen you before.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. I was fairly certain he was using a line on me.

“And Sonia’s always my waitress,” he continued.

I caught Ryan sitting in a chair a few tables away, watching us. When I looked at her, she rose from her chair. She over to a man sitting alone and drinking a beer. She weaved her stick-like leg between his and sat in his lap. I turned back to Stephen.

“Am I getting in the way of someone?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you come here to meet someone? Are you someone’s regular?”

“No,” he smiled.

Eric’s voice interrupted before I could respond. “And now we have a new face on the stage tonight. So pull out your wallets, and give a very warm welcome to Alice. Alice to the main stage.”

“I have to go,” I said to Stephen.

“Come back when you’re done.”

Come visit me up there.”

Okay.”

I walked slowly to the stage, praying I wouldn’t trip. I climbed the short stairs and shuffled my feet to the pole, grateful for the balance it gave me. I held onto the pole and walked around it, my shoulders stiff. I stood in front of the pole and raised my arm above my head. I pressed my back against the metal and extended a foot in front of me, squatting with one leg. I wobbled for a second before I caught my balance and raised myself back to a standing position. My routine continued. Walk around the pole, squat, walk around the pole, dip. When my first song ended, I removed my bikini top and shimmied off my spandex bottoms. Standing in just my thong, I looked out at the eyes peering out of the darkness, staring back at me. A man in a cowboy hat and Wranglers stood at the edge of the stage. I used the pole to dip to the floor, and I crawled across the stage to meet him. I sat on the stage in front of him, wrapping my legs around his waist. My back arched, and I lowered myself to the floor. I unhooked my legs and flipped around, onto my hands and knees. I backed into the man’s chest. I turned to look at him before pulling the side of my thong with my finger. The man slipped a single into the opening and walked back to his seat. I stood and walked through my rotation a few more times until the song ended. I grabbed my bikini as I carefully stepped down the stairs, covering my chest with one arm.

Stephen was still sitting in his chair, guarding my water bottle. I felt stupid for leaving it behind. There was no way I could drink it now. Stephen smiled, inviting me to join him again. I reclaimed my chair.

I missed you,” I said.

Really?” he said. His eyes didn’t move from my face.

Yeah. You didn’t come up and tip me.”

He looked away, uncomfortable. “I don’t usually do that.”

And what do you usually do?”

Stephen’s gaze met mine again. “Enjoy your company.”

We just met.”

He chuckled.

So whose company do you usually enjoy?” I persisted.

No one in particular.” He stared me down, daring me to challenge him again.

I smiled. “You don’t drink. You don’t tip. You don’t enjoy anyone’s company…”

No one in particular,” he repeated.

So what’s a good time for you?”

Stephen remained silent. He let his gaze fall down my body, slowly, memorizing my figure. His eyes met mine again. “You’re showing me a good time right now, wouldn’t you say?”

I looked down at my hands, picking at a hangnail. $200 plus $20. $20 a dance. I had made $1. I needed $219 to break even. That was eleven dances. Just to break even, I repeated in my head. I looked back up at Stephen.

I’m showing you a good time?” I asked.

He nodded.

I’m just sitting here,” I said.

Fine by me,” he said.

You want a dance or what?”

He smiled and stood. I rose from my chair and took his hand, leading him to a back room separated from the main floor by a four foot wall. The bouncer from the dressing room stood just inside, watching discreetly as Nadia, topless, danced on the lap of a large man who looked to be in his seventies. I walked to an empty seat in the sectional that lined the perimeter of the room, separated by arms every three feet. Stephen sat in the seat, and I sat on his lap. I stroked his leg while I waited for the next song.

When the music faded out and the next song began, Nadia and the old gentleman stood. The gentleman pulled out his wallet, handed Nadia a bill, and walked out of the room. Nadia stuffed the bill into her clutch and grabbed her bikini. She left the room without bothering to get dressed.

I sat on Stephen’s lap, facing away from him. I pulled the string from the back of my bikini and slipped the top over my head. I stood, and bending forward eased the bottoms down my legs. I discarded the bikini next to Stephen and stood to face him, wearing only the thong, the single bill still folded on the side. I climbed onto his lap and straddled him. My body began to move to the music, and I was surprised by how natural it felt. I copied the movements I had seen in movies, pressing my chest close to his, pressing my cheek near his temple, my neck near his mouth. I turned and pressed my back against his chest. Strong hands gripped my waist, freezing me in place. I sat up straight, forcing myself to breathe and control my shaking hands. Gently, I laced my fingers through his and moved them to the side.

The bouncer approached us. “Keep your hands to the side!” he yelled, then returned to his post.

I leaned my back against Stephen again. “You’re naughty,” I said, tilting my mouth towards his ear.

I can’t help myself,” he said.

I glanced at the bouncer, grateful for his presence. “He doesn’t like that we’re having fun,” I said to Stephen.

He’s jealous.”

I remained silent, allowing Stephen to have his fantasy.

Another?” I asked when the song ended.

Yes,” he said.

I continued to dance, hovering over Stephen’s lap and letting my body fall through his open legs.

Let’s go upstairs,” Stephen said.

I stood. My body bent over his chest, but I kept my distance. “What?” I asked.

To a private room.”

But I’m not finished with this dance,” I said, trying to distract him.

I prefer it upstairs. That’s where I usually spend my time here. And we won’t have to worry about Robocop over there interrupting our time. I’ll order a bottle of champagne.”

You don’t drink.”

For you.”

I never said that I drank.”

Just in case.”

I sat on Stephen’s lap and wrapped my legs around his waist. I bent my head so that my lips were almost touching his ear and said very clearly, “I don’t suck, and I don’t fuck.”

I didn’t ask for that.”

I pulled back, staring at his face. I needed to be careful. I had to keep his interest, remain desirable, but I couldn’t go upstairs. My intuition urged me to stay put; I needed to stay on the main floor.

“But I’m having so much fun dancing for you right here.” I began to pout. I moved my hips in a circle over his lap and threw my head back.

“We can just talk. We don’t have to do anything.”

“Please,” I whispered into his ear and breathed a sigh into his neck.

Stephen tensed, then released a breath and relaxed. “Okay,” he said.

I counted the dances. Three, four, five...until I lost count.

“Another?” I asked.

“No,” he finally said.

I swung my leg over his lap and stood. I slipped on my bottoms quickly but fumbled with the strings on my bikini. How many dances had I given him?

“$300,” I said, throwing out a price that I hoped was reasonable.

Stpehen pulled a folded stack of bills from his front pocket and held them in his hand.

“When are you working again?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I hadn’t considered it. This wasn’t supposed to be permanent. Even if I didn’t earn enough to cover my dorm fees for fall, I didn’t know if I would be back. I was embarrassed. I felt like I was lacking something that came naturally to the other girls. And my stage performance worse than amateur night. “I’m kind of in the middle of applying for jobs right now,” I said.

“Give me your number.”

“Mmm…I don’t know you.”

“But you will.”

“Next time, okay?” I smiled and flipped my hair behind my shoulder as I slowly backed away.

Stephen frowned. His eyebrows met in the center. He pressed the cash into my hand without counting it and walked out of the room. I tried to follow him but only caught a glimpse of him as he pushed open the doors and disappeared into the lobby.

I clutched the cash into my palm with my fingers. My heart pounded. He didn’t even let me count it. I walked through the room as fast as I could without tripping and made my way down the hallway to the dressing room. I yanked open the door and fell in front of my locker. My hands shook as I tried to move the dial in the correct combination. It tried three times before the lock popped open. My fingers moved quickly as I counted the stack of twenties. $500. I paused, staring at the money. I counted it again, slower this time. $500. Exhaling, I rested my head on the hand that still clutched the cash.

Eric’s voice broke over the speaker in the dressing room. “Alice to the main stage.”

An involuntary smile pulled at the corners of my mouth. I pulled the single from thong and placed it on top of the stack of twenties. The cash crumpled as I pressed it down to the bottom of the backpack. The zipper pinched my finger, a consequence of my rushed movements as I zipped the backpack closed and stuffed it back into the locker. I replaced the lock and continued to spin the dial another three times before yanking it twice, making sure that it was secure. I stood up straight and looked at my reflection in the mirror closest to me. My fingers found my hair and slowly combed through the limp strands while I rolled my shoulders down and back. My feet marched to the thumping beat as the crescendo of music lured my body back to the stage.