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When I step out for my set, I’m instantly aware of the eyes on me from the dark corner of the bar. The music kicks on and I let myself get lost to the movement and sound. My body burns pleasantly, sucking in all the attention and adoration of my crowd while I turn and twist my body, moving it to the beat.
Arturo did something fantastic with colors to make parts of my skin where I had bruising appear to have shimmering scales. With my hair long and loose, I am definitely channeling my inner mermaid. My eyes are closed as I listen to the last beats of the song, dropping myself dramatically to the stage.
A chorus of cheers and tens rain down on me and the moment is broken.
I make my way over to the bar with my bag of tens and twenties in hand. I catch Killian’s eye and feel myself grin until Neil steps in front of me. I feel the sincerity in my expression fade but don’t let my smile drop.
“Well, hello, sugar,” I greet him, placing a hand on his chest. “How’d you like the show?”
Neil leans down to squeeze my ass, leaning down to my ear. I can smell the booze on his breath and have to resist the urge to pull back.
“Fucking sexy,” he mutters, pulling back to slap my ass—hard—before walking off.
I watch him leave before my eyes turn back to Killian and I frown when I see his expression. The smile he had only a moment ago is gone, replaced with what looks suspiciously like jealousy.
“Water, please,” I say, taking a seat on one of the stools.
Killian nods, his expression grave as he hands me one and makes his way to the other side of the bar. I watch him critically but, honestly, that kind of shit has always been beneath me. There are a lot of good reasons I’ve never been one for relationships, and jealousy is one of them. Hopefully Killian realizes that I’ll do what I need to stay close to them, to get my revenge.
I finish my drink and take my bag of tips back to my locker before going back onto the floor. As with all weeknights, it isn’t terribly busy. I’d love to just go home, but if I don’t hustle like the rest of the girls, it would look strange. Stepping back on to the floor, I look around until a client catches my eye and I make my way over to him.
“Dance?” I ask, making sure my voice is loud enough to carry over the sounds of the club. The man grins and holds up a twenty, and I flash him a toothy grin.
Familiar. Normal.
The rest of the night goes relatively quickly, and I’m annoyed to find myself looking toward the bar often. I noticed that when I was with clients, Killian didn’t seem to react or care at all. Not like when Neil touched me.
I push the thought out of my mind, even more annoyed at myself for focusing on it. Savannah and a few of the girls glare at me on my way to the back, but I ignore them, bee-lining for the shower.
As much as the costumes here are incredible and make me feel like a goddess, they’re a real pain in the ass. Thank fuck, Arturo is so good that the paint doesn’t rub off on the clients. I don’t doubt a few wives would have something to say about pink streaks and glitter on their husbands, but it also means it's a pain to wash off.
Annika catches my eye as I pass but quickly ducks her head. I wonder if it's because of the whole bathroom incident. Oh well, I’m not here for friends.
No one else is around when I step into the shower stall and flip on the water. Dee gets us soap that’s practically industrial. I grab some and begin to scrub the teals and greens from my legs. Humming softly to myself, I don’t realize someone’s entered the room until I see a shadow in front of me.
With slow, measured movements I stand, unashamed of my nakedness. Savannah and two of the other girls I don’t know are sneering at me. I shift my feet a touch farther apart and keep my body tense.
Savannah drags her eyes up and down my body and lets out a small laugh. Despite myself, I feel a hint of anger rising within me.
She steps towards me, and my fists tighten, a smile on my face.
“Bring it, bitch.”
“What in the—Ladies!” Dee shouts, pushing through and tugging my arm up and off of Savannah. My chest is heaving, but I let her pull me up, staring down at the blonde with satisfaction as her nose gushes.
“She started it,” I say simply. I’m still naked and now covered with splatters of blood and half of my paint still on, but I make no move other than to cross my arms. The other girls take a step back from me.
“Dat cunt bwoke ma dose!” Savannah cries, and I have to resist the urge to giggle. Dumb bitch.
Dee looks over at me with a glare and nods her head to the shower.
“Rinse that blood off and get out of here, you can finish washing the rest at home,” she tells me in that no-nonsense voice of hers. I don’t argue, stepping over the leaking blonde and back into my shower stall.
Bitch should not have messed with me.
By the time I get my things together, the club is closed and a few of the cleaners are mulling around. Killian is behind the bar and when he sees me, he nods his head to beckon me over.
“What the hell happened back there?” he asks. I smirk.
