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This was a mistake. I knew it the moment I walked in, but I didn’t know what else to do. Nothing is going to pay as good as this place does, and Grams… she needs me. Still, I have to get out of here. I’ll find another way to get the money. Keeping my eyes trained on the floor, I try to ignore the hungry looks the men in the room are giving me. I hate being looked at like I’m a steak dangling in the air in front of them. Spinning around, I start to head back to the door, I just came out of, when Katie appears out of nowhere and cuts me off.

“You look like you’re about to run back to the dressing room.”

How did she know?

Not wanting to break down into a full mental breakdown, I force the words to come out slowly. “Because I am. I can’t do this, Katie. I can’t take everybody looking at me, watching me, and staring at me like I’m an alien with three eyes.”

“You’ll get used to it, I promise, and maybe someday you’ll like it. Being the center of attention and having all the men drool over you. It’s kind of a high that you can’t get anywhere else, well besides drugs.”

Yeah, I don’t care. I’ll never like having the spotlight on me. Thinking I could handle this… I’m stupid, so stupid.

“I’m sorry. It’s just not for me.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she shrugs. “I get it, you’re shy. If you want to head out, I’ll tell Martie you left.”

“Thank you, that would be great.” I almost sigh, happy that she didn’t try and push me to go back out there.

“No problem. Hope you find a different job.” God, me too.

I give her a weak smile before brushing past her and into the dressing rooms. My fingers are already at the door handle when someone taps me on the shoulder, making me jump about three feet off the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A deep gruff voice meets my ears. I spin around to find Martie, the club’s manager towering over me.

“Ah… I-I’m sorry. I need to go. This is not for me—”

“You can go after you give this guy a lap dance. Room two,” Martie orders, pointing to the small rooms in the back. With my mouth gaping open, I look back there. Did he just say lap dance? I’ve danced before, but never in a sexual way. I know this is what I came here for, but now that I’m here and actually supposed to do it, I just don’t think I have it in me.

“I… I can’t.”

“You can, and you will! This is one of our best customers, and he is paying double. So, get in there and shake your ass for him. I’ll let you keep $200 plus whatever tip they leave, and then you can go home.”

I want to object again but know simply from the stern look Martie is giving me that it isn’t worth the effort.

“Okay,” I answer, my bottom lip wobbling. Bile rises in my throat, as I turn and walk toward the doors he just pointed to. It’s only a lap dance, not like I’m dancing for an entire audience, and the other girls say I can always leave my panties on. So, all I have to show are my boobs. They’re just boobs, not a big deal, right? I can do this. I mean, what choice do I have?

By the time I reach the door, I’ve not calmed down any, and in fact, I am shaking now. I swallow down the anxiousness that’s threatening to suffocate me and twist the doorknob, pushing the door open. The room is dark except for a dim light that shines like a spotlight in the center of the room.

I don’t know what it is about the darkness, but something about it has the panic inside me mounting. I can’t do this. I take a step back and twist around at the same time, trying to get away. My escape plan is cut short when Martie appears out of nowhere, cutting off my path of escape.

“I said to get in there,” he yells.

With his arms folded over his chest, he makes himself look even bigger and stronger than he probably is, and I know I don’t have a chance of fighting him. He will squish me like a fly. My only option is to do as he says.

Defeated, I whisper, “Okay.” The words haven’t even fully left my lips when he shoves me into the dark room. I hear someone growl from inside, but I’m too busy trying to keep my balance to see where it came from, or from who it came from. I can barely walk in these high heels as it is, and the sudden movement has me tripping over my own feet. Instead of stepping into the small room, I tumble in, landing flat on my ass. Pain radiates up my spine, and I groan in pain.

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