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Chapter One
Blair
A week later…
“It’s all your fault. I have to leave my friends, my house, my life. I can’t show my face anymore all because of you. You stupid, useless whore. I wish I had a boy...”
It goes on and on as the movers fill the van for us.
I have been going crazy for the last week from being trapped here with her. I was unable to leave, not even to attend school or work. She wouldn’t allow it, saying I had disgraced us enough. No, instead I had to clean and pack every inch of this too big house that doesn’t belong to us. Her ex-husband is selling it, though she tries to claim that isn’t why we are moving.
No, apparently I’m the reason.
I finally manage to escape her, for the drive at least. She’s flying, claiming she couldn’t possibly sit in a car for that long of a journey, never mind ride the ‘crotch rocket car’ I bought myself. Thank fuck. She hasn’t even told me where we are going. All I have is an address, which will take me eight hours to get to, and no other information. Whose house is it? Why there?
When I asked, she just glared and stated it was none of my business. She said I should just feel lucky she is taking me with her. I shut my mouth and bit my tongue.
I don’t want to move, but honestly, it may be a good idea to get away from here and the memories this city holds. I can have a fresh start where no one knows me or what happened...
It does mean I’ll have to find a new job, though, and some new friends, but that shouldn’t be too hard. With nothing else to do, I climb into my black Toyota Supra and crank up the music, blasting AC/DC as I peel out of the driveway and, without a backwards glance at the house, head towards my future.
* * *
I’m about halfway through the drive when I stop for the night, resting for a few hours in some motorway hotel. I don’t want to beat my mother there, so I took a small detour earlier to earn some quick cash on a race to cover my room for the night. I order room service and relax in my old band shirt as I watch some shitty film on TV. I use the time to look up what’s in the city we are going to, even searching for a job or two. This time I applied for a part-time university course though, but I’ve never been one to care too much about academics. I’m smart and I’ll pass, but I prefer creativity and earning money that will allow me to escape my mother quicker. As soon as I make enough money—which I estimated would be in six months—I am out. I’m nineteen, after all, and there is nothing stopping me from hitting the road without a backwards glance. I want to explore the world and do whatever the hell I want, be whoever the fuck I want.
She will have no power over me anymore.
Scrolling through the map and local information, I raise my eyebrows in surprise. It’s a suburban area next to a huge city, so it shouldn’t be too bad. Commuting will probably be easier than driving everywhere, but there is a beach close by and plenty of stretches of road to race on. The schools look okay too. The one I must be attending has a separate college from the lower years, which is good. It looks even better than the old public one I went to where I was likely to get stabbed for looking at someone wrong... well, not me, mainly because most people were scared of me, but still.
Closing the browser, I open a job app and search for ones in that area. I may as well get a jump on it. It’s summer at the moment, so I can work full-time until we go back to school, and then I can work late nights. I never sleep anyway, so I may as well be earning money. I apply for a few ones I like—a night-time store stocker and a gas station worker—before a strange one catches my eye. I click on it, and my heart slams. Sitting up, I scroll down the advert with excitement coursing through my veins. It’s as if I were meant to find it, to move there... to get the job.
Singer and dancer wanted.
Pearl clutchers need not apply. We are all free here, darlings. Like the stage? Enjoy being sexy and holding the power? How about leather and lace?
Apply here to find out more.
Be warned, this isn’t your normal job.
This is burlesque, darlings.
I have never clicked ‘apply’ so fast. They want a video of applicants dancing and singing, so I upload one of my latest and wait. I can sing pretty well, and I enjoy it, but I love dancing. I love losing myself to the beat and feeling the power I wield as I control my body with expert precision. The pain and sweat are worthwhile when people see you.
I’ve always loved dancing. I started with ballet when I was young, and then I became a club dancer, usually entering battles for money. I’ve honed my skills, and I know how to move my body. I know how to enthral others and make all their wildest fantasies come true before their very eyes. So to find a job that will pay for that? Hell yes.
I impatiently wait to hear back, even though it’s late and they will probably take days, but I still refresh my email every few minutes. Sighing, I put my phone on the table and flick off the lights, resigning myself to waiting. They probably want someone older and more experienced anyway. I toss and turn as usual, memories crowding my mind, and finally, at around 4AM, I give up trying to sleep and get up. Padding over to the desk in the room, I turn on the kettle as I scroll through my notifications, freezing at the email waiting for me.
Well, hello there, darling. Aren’t you just the talented beauty? You want the job, kitten? You work for it. Audition tomorrow night, 9PM. Bring your own outfit. Shake what your momma gave you and impress us.
—The girls
Holy fuck! I get dressed as fast as I can and am on the road in record time, only stopping to grab breakfast so I can eat as I drive. I need to get there, unpack to find an outfit, and sort out a routine. That job is going to be mine.
They will have no idea what’s hit them when they meet me. I may be young, but I can move better than anyone else. And burlesque? Fuck yes, just another skill to master. It will make me feel alive as I shine under the stage lights, losing everything that haunts me in the beat of the music and the adoring eyes of the patrons.
I’ll be their darling, alright. The best they’ve ever had.
