Chapter 3: Rising Action
Emily and I made our way back to her car. The air was thick with the scent of stale beer and cheap perfume.
Emily's fingers drummed against the steering wheel, her eyes darting nervously to the rearview mirror. "You okay, Aresa? You looked a little...
spaced out back there." Emily's eyes were filled with concern as she cast a worried glance in my direction. I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes, trying to push away the lingering ache in my ass.
"I'm fine, Em. Just... a little tired," I lied, not wanting to tell her about the rough fucking I'd just endured. I wasn't ready to face the judgement or concern that would surely follow.
Emily slid a look at me as she pulled out of the parking lot, the frat house now a distant memory. "You sure? You seem... different."
I opened my eyes and forced a smile.
"Yeah, just tired. Long night, you know?"
I went home and fell asleep having terrible dreams about demons and dark things. I woke up in cold sweats.
The dreams had been intense, filled with shadowy figures and twisted faces. I could still feel Cole's hands on my body, his cock filling me. My ass ached from the brutal fucking he'd given me, but I couldn't deny that it had been incredible.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was already noon. I'd slept in way longer than I intended, but after the night I'd had, I needed the rest. I swung my legs out of bed and winced as I stood up, the ache in my ass reminding me of the raw, intense encounter from the night before.
my phone buzzed. It was David. My heart sank as I saw his name flash across the screen. I didn't have the energy or the willpower to deal with his bullshit today. I let it go to voicemail, not even bothering to listen to the message. I knew what it would be—more of his whining about his teenage crush, more guilt trips about how he couldn't move on. I couldn't handle it right now.
I reached for my painkillers, popping two into my mouth and chasing them down with a glass of water. I needed to get myself together. I had class later, and I couldn't afford to miss another one.
I needed to focus, to get my head in the game. It was getting harder and harder to keep up with my studies, what with all the distractions and my money running low. I showered quickly, wincing as the hot water hit my tender ass. I didn't have time to wallow in self-pity. I had to get going.
I pulled on a pair of leggings and a loose sweatshirt, not wanting to draw attention to my bruises. I tipped my head back and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, my face pale, and there were dark circles under my eyes. I looked like I'd been through the wringer.
I could see it in the reflection staring back at me. My eyes were glassy from the lack of sleep, and my skin was pale and waxy. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to tame the wild mess it had become. I sighed, knowing I didn't have time to fix it. I had to get to class.
I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, my mind racing with thoughts of what the night before had brought. I hadn't felt like this in a long time. Raw, used, and totally spent. But damn, it had been good. Too good.
I walked to class, the cool air doing little to wake me up.
My head was still foggy from the night before, and my ass ached with every step. I could feel the lingering soreness, a reminder of what I'd done, who I'd been with. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I couldn't think about that now. I had to focus on school, on getting my life back on track.
I was almost to campus when I saw him. David, leaning against a tree, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked up as I approached, and a slow smile spread across his face.
"Aresa," he said, his voice warm.
Oh fuck, I thought. My heart dropped. I didn't want to deal with David today. Not after the night I'd had. I couldn't bear the thought of his judgmental eyes on my bruised body, his disapproving frown as he looked at me.
"Hey, David," I said, trying to keep my voice casual. I didn't stop walking, hoping to pass by quickly.
"Where have you been?" David asked, falling into step beside me. I could see the worry in his eyes, the concern that was all too familiar. "I've been trying to call you all morning."
"I had my phone off," I lied.
"I was just... caught up with stuff. Sorry."
David's brow furrowed, and he looked at me for a moment too long. "Everything okay, Aresa?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
I forced a smile, trying to act normal. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just busy with classes and everything."
David nodded, but I could see the doubt in his eyes. He knew me too well. He knew when I was hiding something.
"You look... tired," he said, his eyes scanning my face. "You sure you're okay?"
I sighed internally, hating the lie I was feeding him.
"Yeah, just been pulling some late nights with studying. You know how it gets."
David's eyes narrowed slightly, and I could tell he wasn't buying it. "You're not sleeping well, are you?" he asked, his voice softening with concern.
I hesitated, not wanting to lie to him again, but not wanting to tell him the truth either. "I'm fine, David. Really. Just need to catch up on some sleep, that's all."
David opened his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off before he could. "Hey, I've got to get to class.
Rain check on the coffee?" I said, hoping to put some distance between us.
David's face fell, but he nodded. "Sure, yeah. Rain check."
I walked away, my heart heavy with guilt. David was a good guy, and he deserved better than this. Better than me. I knew it, but I just couldn't bring myself to end things with him. Not yet.
I made it to class just as the professor was starting the lecture. I slipped into my seat, grateful for the darkness of the auditorium. I didn't want anyone to see the exhaustion and guilt written all over my face.
I couldn't focus on the lecture. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about Cole, David, and my own moral compass spinning out of control. I kept replaying the night before in my head, the pleasure and the pain, the way Cole had used me like I was nothing more than a toy for his amusement. It was wrong, so fucking wrong, but I couldn't deny that it had been exhilarating.
After class, I headed straight to the library. I couldn't bear to face David again, not with the weight of my deceit hanging over me.
At the library I looked over my bills. Some were behind and I had one due for the semester tuition payment. More stress. More fucking bills. I was starting to feel like I was drowning. I couldn't keep up. My mind was a mess, and my body was paying the price. I looked at my bank account balance and swore under my breath. I was tapped out. I had nothing left to give.
I rubbed my temples, trying to ward off the headache that was starting to form. I couldn't think straight. I needed a job. A real job. Something that paid more than server wages. I'd been working at the diner for months, and it wasn't enough. I was falling behind, and I couldn't catch up.
The stress was eating me alive, and the nonstop worry was turning me into a wreck. I knew I needed to do something, anything, to keep my head above water. But what?
I looked around the library, my eyes scanning the rows of books and the faces of my fellow students. I felt a pang of envy as I saw some of them laughing and chatting, seemingly without a care in the world. How did they do it? How did they manage to juggle everything and still look so put together?
I sighed, knowing that I couldn't keep going like this. I needed a lifeline, a way out of this mess. And fast.
I couldn't keep letting money slip through my fingers like sand. I needed a plan, a way to make more money, and fast. I thought about asking Emily for help, but I knew she was in the same boat as me. We were both struggling to make ends meet, and neither of us had any spare cash to lend to the other.
I looked down at the bills spread out on the table in front of me, the numbers swimming before my eyes. I couldn't afford to pay my rent this month, let alone my tuition. I was fucked, and I knew it. I needed to find a solution, and fast.
I couldn't keep living like this, always one step away from disaster. I thought about dropping out of school, but that would mean giving up on my dreams of graduating and finding a better job. I couldn't do that. I had to find another way.
I remembered a girl I had in Econ that told me about a strip club having bikini contests in Saturday nights. The prize was like $1,500. That was enough money to tide me over until I could find something better.
I knew it wasn't exactly a long-term solution, but I had to do something.
I remembered the name of the place from our conversation—Charlie's. I made a mental note to look it up later and see when the next contest was.
I sighed, rubbing my temples to try and ward off the headache that was threatening to consume me. I was running out of options, and I knew it. I needed to do something drastic, and fast.
As I was gathering my books to leave, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
I turned around and saw Emily standing there, looking concerned.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, her eyes searching my face. "You looked like you were a million miles away."
I forced a smile, trying to act casual. "Yeah, just have a lot on my mind. School stuff."
Emily raised an eyebrow. "Sure, school stuff. Or maybe something else."
I sighed and sat back down, dropping my books on the table. "Okay, fine.
I'm in a bit of a jam," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "I'm falling behind on bills, and I'm not sure what to do."
Emily sat down across from me, her eyes filled with concern. "What do you mean, 'falling behind'? How bad is it?"
I sighed and leaned back in my chair, looking up at the ceiling. "Bad. Really bad. I might not be able to pay rent this month, and tuition is due soon. I'm just...
I don't know, Em. I'm drowning here. I need money, fast, and I'm running out of options."
Emily's eyes widened in sympathy, but she didn't sugarcoat it. "I know the feeling. But you can't... you can't do anything too desperate, Aresa. Promise me that."
I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "I won't do anything stupid, Em. I just... I need to make some hard choices, that's all."
Emily reached across the table and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. "I get it, okay? I do.
But I need to find a way to get ahead of this shitstorm, fast."
Emily nodded, her brow furrowed in thought. "Look, I know it's tough, but you can't let yourself get too desperate. You're better than that, Aresa. You've got a future ahead of you, and you can't throw it away on some stupid decision."
I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. "I know, I know.”
I went back to my place and found my red bikini. I tried it on. Fuck, I need a tan. I need to do my nails. My feet are a disaster. I couldn't afford a pedicure, so I did it myself. The result was a mess of chipped polish and ragged cuticles. I grabbed my nail file and set to work, trying to even out the edges and make them look presentable. I knew I couldn't afford to be picky, not with the state of my finances. But I couldn't show up looking like a slob, either.
I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, a stranger in her own skin. Who was this girl, standing here in a red bikini, filing her nails and getting ready to do a contest?
I managed to get in three tanning sessions before Saturday night. I went to Charlie’s for the contest with my red bikini and matching red Strappy heels. My make-up was done right, my hair straightened and cascading down my back, and my nails finally looking presentable. I practiced my walk in the bathroom, trying to channel my inner sex kitten. I was nervous as hell, but I had to pull this off. I needed the money.
Charlie’s was tucked away in a seedy part of town, hidden behind a nondescript storefront. The neon sign above the door flickered on and off, casting a blood-red glow on the pavement. I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy door, stepping inside.
The air was thick with smoke and the smell of cheap perfume.
The bass from the music pounded in my chest as I made my way to the bar. A bouncer, a mountain of a man with a shaved head and a thick beard, gave me a once-over and nodded. I took that as a good sign.
"What can I get you, sweetheart?" the bartender asked, a blonde with more cleavage than clothing.
“Vodka cranberry, please," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
She poured my drink and slid it across the bar. I took a sip, the alcohol burning my throat. I needed the liquid courage.
I wasn't stupid enough to think I could win this contest on my looks alone. I scanned the room, taking in the other contestants. Some were seasoned pros, their bodies honed and toned, their thongs more revealing than my red bikini. Others were amateurs like me, their nerves as visible as mine.
I spotted a stage in the corner, a pole standing at the center. A man in a suit was sitting at a table nearby, a clipboard in his hand. He looked up as I approached, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"You here for the contest?" he asked, his voice gruff.
I nodded.
"Yep. Aresa. I'm Aresa."
He looked down at his clipboard, then back up at me. "Right. You're number twelve. Go get ready. We're starting in fifteen."
I grabbed my drink and walked back to the dressing room, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure what I'd gotten myself into.
The dressing room was a small, dimly lit space filled with women in various states of undress. Some were touching up their makeup, others were adjusting themselves. I found a corner and took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
The place was packed. When we came out to line up there was a loud roar from the like 200 guys there. Their faces were in the dark. We were on a stage with two stripper poles. The room was dark, the lights focused on us, the contestants. I could see the other girls clearly, their faces painted and bodies glistening. I looked away quickly, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them. I was already nervous enough as it was.
The music started, a heavy bass line that seemed to vibrate through my entire body. The DJ was positioned in a booth above the stage, his face hidden in the shadows. The first girl stepped up to the pole, her body moving in time with the music. She was good, really good. She knew what she was doing, and she wasn't afraid to show it.
After we all danced, the MC with a mic asked each of us what we would do if we won the money. One girl said she would pay for daycare. Another said pay for her car. I knew this was my chance to win this thing. I put on a big shit eating grin and said, “I’m going to buy fucking jumbo sized boxes of rubbers and fuck each and every one of you!!!”
The crowd went wild, screaming and hollering as I turned on my heels and strutted back to my spot in line. I had their attention now, that was for sure. I could feel their eyes on me, their lust and desire palpable in the air.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a real firecracker here tonight,” the MC boomed, his voice echoing through the club. “Let’s hear it for number twelve! Fuck!”
The cheers were deafening, and I felt a flush of power and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I was doing this. I was actually doing this.
I was standing on stage in front of a room full of strangers, my body barely covered in a red bikini, and I was owning it. I felt a rush of adrenaline, a sense of power surging through me as I heard the crowd roar with approval. I was no longer just Aresa, the college student struggling to make ends meet. I was Aresa, the hot bitch who was going to fuck every single one of these guys if she won.
The MC called out my name again, and I stepped back up to the stage, my heels clicking against the wood floor. I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest, and began to move.
“And the winner is, Number 12, Ah-Reese-uh!” He mispronounced my name. The crowd roared. I couldn't believe I had just won a strip club contest. Me. The college student, the girl who had always played by the rules, who had never done anything even remotely risky. I was standing on stage, a red bikini barely covering my body, a wad of cash in my hand, and a feeling of exhilaration coursing through my veins.
I looked out at the sea of faces, all of them cheering and hollering at me. I could feel their eyes on me, their desire palpable in the air. It was intoxicating. I felt alive.
Alive in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. The adrenaline was still pumping through my veins as I made my way back to the dressing room, the wad of cash clutched tightly in my hand. I couldn't believe I'd done it. I'd actually fucking done it.
I pushed open the door to the dressing room and was greeted by a chorus of cheers and whistles from the other girls. I grinned, feeling like a goddamn rock star.
The owner, Charlie, came and offered me a drink in the VIP area. I talked with him. Charlie was a big guy, broad shoulders, and a shaved head. He had a strong, commanding presence that made me feel like I was in safe hands, even though I knew better. He wore a black suit that looked tailored, and a gold watch that gleamed in the low light. He smelled like expensive cologne and cigars.
"You did good out there, Aresa," he said, pouring me a glass of champagne. "Real good. I like what you got. Raw, real, and fucking sexy and hot."
I took a sip of the bubbly, feeling a warmth spread through me. "Thanks," I said, trying not to let my anxiety show.
Charlie's intense gaze was making me uncomfortable, like he could see right through me. "I appreciate the compliment."
He leaned in, his eyes never leaving mine. "You know, I could use a girl like you here. Someone with your... spunk. You've got what it takes to make some serious money."
I hesitated, my heart pounding. I didn't want to get in too deep with this guy, but I needed the cash. Badly.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Charlie's lips curled into a slow smile, a predator sizing up its prey.
“You could work here. Make some fucking bank.” Charlie's words hung heavy in the air, thick with innuendo and promise. I took another sip of my champagne, buying time to process what he was saying. I knew what he meant, and I wasn't naive. I'd seen the other girls at Charlie's, the way they moved, the way they looked at the men in the audience. I'd seen the desperation in their eyes, the hunger and the fear.
But I hadn't expected this. Not from Charlie. Not from me.
"Work here?" "You mean...
like a stripper?" I couldn't believe I was even considering this. Me, a stripper? It was insane, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Charlie nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. "Yeah, baby. A stripper. You've got the look, the attitude, and the fucking fire. You'd be a Fuckin’ star here. You’re young and sexy as fuck.”
I took another sip of champagne, my mind racing. I needed the money, and this was a surefire way to get it. Fast. But it also meant crossing a line I never thought I would.
Could I really do this? Could I stand on that stage, night after night, and let strangers gawk at me, touch me, pay me for my body?
Charlie's gaze intensified, as if he could read my thoughts. "Don't worry about the details, Aresa. I'll take care of everything. You just show up and do what you do best."
I felt a knot form in my stomach, a mixture of nerves and excitement. I couldn't deny the thrill that ran through me at the thought of the money, the power, the control.
But there was also fear.
“Come back Wednesday night, doll.” Charlie’s voice was a low rumble, his eyes never leaving mine. “We’ll get you set up, show you the ropes.”
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and dread churning in my stomach. “Okay,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll be here.”
Charlie stood up and offered me his hand. I hesitated for a moment before taking it, feeling the rough callouses against my soft skin. He pulled me to my feet and leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.
“You’re gonna do great, Aresa. Trust me.”
I pulled away, feeling a chill run down my spine.
"I'll see you Wednesday, Charlie," I muttered, eager to get out of there.
He nodded, his gaze lingering on me. "Looking forward to it, Aresa. Real fucking looking forward to it."
I hurried out of the VIP area and back to the dressing room, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell had I just agreed to? I was in way over my head, and I knew it.
I studied all day Sunday and went to classes on Monday and Tuesday.
My brain was mush by the time Wednesday rolled around. I didn't tell Emily about my side job at Charlie's. I didn't want her to worry or judge me. I didn't really know how to bring it up anyway. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I didn't want to burden her with my problems.
I arrived at Charlie's around eight, my stomach twisting into knots. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I knew I needed to put on a brave face. I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the dimly lit club.
The bass from the music thumped in my chest, and the smell of cheap perfume filled my nostrils. I made my way to the bar, my heart pounding in my ears. The bartender, a leggy blonde with a cleavage-baring top, nodded at me and poured me a shot of whiskey. I tossed it back, feeling the burn slide down my throat.
I spotted Charlie standing by the stage, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the girls dancing. He saw me approach and nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
"You're right on time, Aresa," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "That's a good start."
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. "Thanks," I managed to squeak out.
Charlie led me to a dressing room, where a group of girls were gathering for the night shift. They fell silent as we approached, their eyes flicking between Charlie and me.
"Ladies, this is Aresa," Charlie said, his hand landing on the small of my back.
"She's new here, so show her some love."
The girls murmured their hellos, but I could feel the tension in the room. These women were professionals, and I was the new kid on the block. The last thing they needed was some college girl horning in on their turf.
Charlie pulled me aside, his voice low and intense. "You'll be on stage in about an hour. I want you to watch the other girls, learn their moves, and then come up with your own routine. Something that sets you apart."
I nodded, my stomach churning with a mix of anxiety and excitement.
“Go to Gloria over there. She sells equipment.” I spnt $360 on stripper heels and g-strings.
I felt like a total fraud as I swiped my card. I mean, who was I kidding? I was a college student, not a fucking stripper. But there I was, standing in front of the scantily clad mannequins, trying to act like this was all normal.
When I got back to the dressing room, the other girls were already starting to prepare. They all had their own routines, their own ways of doing things. I felt like a fish out of water, fumbling with my new gear and trying not to look like a total noob.
Gloria, the older woman who sold me my stuff, took pity on me.
She was about forty, with fake boobs and a face that had seen better days. She handed me a hairbrush and some hair spray. "Here, honey. Do your hair up real nice. Big, sexy, and wild. That's what the guys like."
I took the brush and spray from her, feeling like a total idiot. I wasn't even sure how to do my hair like that. I mean, I'd seen it done a million times, but actually doing it myself? No way.
Gloria must have seen the panic in my eyes because she took the brush and spray from me and started working on my hair herself. "Relax, honey.
I got you," Gloria cooed, her fingers working quickly and efficiently. She sectioned off my hair, teasing it with a comb before backcombing it to create volume. I watched her in the mirror, a sense of awe and gratitude swelling inside me. This woman was a pro, and she was taking me under her wing.
"Thanks, Gloria," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
She smiled at me in the reflection, her eyes kind. "You're welcome, hon.
Now, the makeup." Gloria turned me around and started slathering foundation on my face. I closed my eyes, feeling the cool cream spread across my skin. It was thick and cakey, not like anything I'd ever worn before. When I opened my eyes, I barely recognized the face staring back at me. Gloria had contoured my cheeks, darkened my eyelids, and painted my lips a shade of red that was bordering on clownish.
"Wow, Gloria. That's... wow." I said, spinning around to see the full effect.
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "You look fabulous, honey.
Like a real-life Barbie doll." Gloria stepped back, admiring her handiwork. I turned to the side, examining myself in the mirror. The transformation was stunning. I barely recognized myself, but I had to admit, I looked... sexy.
The dressing room buzzed with activity as the other girls applied their own makeup, teased their hair, and slipped into their performance outfits. I watched them, trying to soak up their confidence and poise. I'd never felt more out of my depth.
Gloria must have seen the apprehension on my face because she took my hand and gave it a squeeze.
I went to the floor. There were men peppering the seats. It was early. Girls were spinning on poles on the stages. They were dancing, grinding, and gyrating to the music. I could see the dollar bills stuck in their g-strings. Men cheered and clapped as the girls worked the crowd. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me as I watched them perform. I knew I was next.
Charlie was standing by the door, his eyes scanning the room. He caught my eye and waved me over. I took a deep breath and pushed through the crowd, feeling the heat of the stage lights on my face.
"You ready, Aresa?" Charlie asked, his voice low and gravelly.
I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I managed to say.
Charlie smiled, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and anticipation. "That's the spirit. Remember, just do what feels natural. The guys out there, they eat that shit up. Now, go on, get out there and show us what you've got."
I took a deep breath, my stomach churning with nerves and adrenaline. I walked past Charlie and onto the stage, my heels clicking against the polished wood. The music was already pumping, a heavy bass line that thrummed through my body.
I imitated some of the moves if seen. I even got down on my hands and knees and twerked my ass. I was fucking nailing this. The crowd went wild, hooting and hollering like I was the hottest thing they'd ever seen. I turned around and straddled the pole, spinning and gyrating against it, feeling the music course through my veins. I was lost in the moment, totally in my element.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. David.
He was sitting in the front row, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. Our eyes locked, and I felt a jolt of panic surge through me. What the fuck was he doing here?
My heart pounded in my chest, and my breath hitched in my throat. The music seemed to fade away, and all I could see was David, his eyes wide with shock and something else. Something dark and dangerous.
I faltered, my movements becoming jerky and uncoordinated. The crowd screamed and hollered, but I couldn't hear them. All I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears and the pounding of my heart. I tried to refocus, to get back into the groove, but it was too late. I was done.
I jumped off the stage, my heart hammering in my chest.
I couldn't believe he was here, watching me. My heart sank as I saw the betrayal in his eyes, the disapproval etched on his face.
I rushed past Charlie, who was clapping and smiling, oblivious to the drama unfolding in front of him. I pushed through the crowd, desperate to get to David.
"David," I gasped, my breath coming in short bursts. "What are you doing here?"
His eyes were cold, his voice tight. "I could ask you the same thing, Aresa."
I felt a flush of shame and guilt. I knew what this looked like, what he must be thinking.
I was standing there in nothing but a red g-string and heels, sweaty and disheveled, after just getting off stage. I couldn't blame him for being upset. I just wished he hadn't seen me like this.
"David, I can explain-" I started, but he cut me off with a sharp laugh.
"Explain? What is there to explain? You're a fucking stripper, Aresa. You're up there, grinding on a pole, letting those guys throw money at you. What the fuck, Aresa?"
His voice was rising, and I could see the anger in his eyes.
"I thought you were better than this, Aresa. I thought you had fucking principles. But no, you're just like all the rest of them. You're just a whore, aren't you?"
The words stung like a slap in the face. I recoiled, my heart shattering into a million pieces. How could he say that to me? After everything we'd been through?
"David, please," I pleaded, tears burning my eyes. "It's not what it looks like. I need the money, okay?
I can't just fucking quit school and get a full-time job. I can't even handle a part-time job and my classes. I'm drowning here, David. Drowning, and you're just... you're just standing there, judging me.
David's face softened slightly, the anger in his eyes fading somewhat. He looked away, his jaw clenching. "I know you're struggling, Aresa. I get it. But this? This isn't the answer."
I stepped closer to him, my voice barely above a whisper. "What other choice do I have, David? Tell me, what other fucking choice do I have?
Charlie walked up. “Hey, no drama in the club. No boyfriends. No husbands.” Charlie said, putting a firm hand on David’s shoulder. “You need to leave. Now.”
David’s eyes flashed with anger, but he nodded, pushing past Charlie without another word. I watched him go, each step feeling like a knife in my heart.
“He’ll be back,” Charlie said, his voice low and menacing. “But not here. You know the rules, Aresa. No boyfriends, no drama.”
I nodded, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t know he was coming.”
Charlie waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine.
He won’t be back,” I muttered, my voice barely audible. I didn’t want to think about David or the way he’d looked at me, the betrayal and disgust written all over his face. I couldn’t blame him, but the hurt cut deep.
Charlie’s voice snapped me back to the present. “You alright, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I forced a smile, trying to shake off the weight of David’s words. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... it was a shock, that’s all.”
Charlie clapped me on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring.
"You did good out there, Aresa. Real good. Don't let that asshole bring you down. You're making money, and that's what matters. Now, get your ass back out there and make me some more."
I nodded, swallowing hard to fight back the tears that were threatening to spill over. I couldn't break down now, not here, not in front of Charlie. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.
"Yeah, I can do that," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Charlie gave me a tight smile, his eyes hard. "That's my girl.
Now get out there and fucking own it."
I bit my lip, nodding, and turned back towards the stage. The bass-heavy music was pumping through my veins, drowning out my racing thoughts. I couldn't let David's words, or the hurt in his eyes, consume me. I had to get back out there and finish my set.
I forced a smile, trying to push away the heaviness in my chest. Tonight was about the money, about survival. I couldn't think about anything else right now.
I focused on working it. I wasn't doing this for the thrill or the attention anymore. I was doing it for the cash. Every dollar bill that stuck to my glistening skin was another step toward surviving this semester, another triumph over the suffocating weight of my debts.
A part of me died every time I saw the flashes of judgment in the men's eyes, the leering grins that hid contempt. I didn't want to be here, but I needed to be. For Aresa, college student, the dreams of a bright future were fading, replaced by the desperate quest to keep her head above water.
The first couple weeks there I made an average of $1,900 per week, working three to four nights a week. The money was good, really good, but it came at a cost. My soul felt like it was bleeding every time I stepped on that stage. I started to lose track of time, of days, of life outside the club. It was like I was trapped in some twisted, neon-lit purgatory. Every night was the same—the same music, the same moves, the same hungry eyes.
I tried to distance myself from the other girls, but it was hard. They were all in the same boat as me, just trying to make ends meet.
I was bouncing on guys’ hard cocks in VIP, basically dry humping them for $20 lap dances. I was knee deep in it and feeling invincible, like nothing could touch me. I was making so much money that I was able to pay off some of my bills and even set some aside for future expenses. I started to let the power and control that came with the money go to my head.
Emily noticed the change in me. The way I dressed, the way I carried myself, and the way I talked. She started to pull away, and I didn’t blame her. I was becoming someone I didn’t recognize, and I didn’t like her. But I couldn’t stop. The money was too good, and the control was too intoxicating.
I found myself living in two worlds—the respectable college student by day and the stripper by night. I was like a chameleon, changing my skin to fit my surroundings. I didn't recognize myself anymore, and it scared me.
One night, after a particularly grueling set, I was nursing a whiskey at the bar, trying to unwind. Charlie slid onto the stool next to me, his eyes scanning the crowd. "You're doing great, Aresa," he said, signaling the bartender for a drink. "Real great."
I forced a smile, but my eyes were heavy with exhaustion and something else—a growing unease.