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Gary walked to the corner of the platform and grabbed a stick. He touched his own foot with it, just the middle.
“If you push your heel with enough strength, it will distract your enemy and will give you enough time to think,” he said.
He nodded his head toward the fake-human and said, “Try it.”
It was funny but I did as I was told.
“Harder.” Gary instructed. I did the same thing until he was pleased with my effort.
“Okay…another place is the groin but you already know that. Also, the iliums. Both sides of the abdomen. Now, hit it with full force,” he instructed.
“Gary, what if I wouldn’t have enough strength to hit? I need a place more sensitive,” I said while hitting the sides of the body again and again.
“I know. We’ll get to those places. Think about it as training, use your strength and when you’re exhausted I’ll show you the most sensitive yet fatal places. Now, hit. For every wrong move, you’ll fight with me. Hit.” Gary demanded sternly and that was what I did for hours.
I hit.
Again.
Harder.
After a painful lesson with Gary, I headed back home. He really didn’t show me any mercy. My muscles were in pain, my skin was so sensitive because of the hard practice but thankfully my tanned skin would hide any possible bruises.
The only thing I could think about was jumping to my bed when I came home but no matter how tempting the idea was I headed to the shower. Cascading warm water and in-shower body lotion were just what I needed to relax my muscles. Feeling so much better, stronger and in control, I left the bathroom.
I had to go back to the club in a few hours. This would be the first workday for me there and I wanted to do a rehearsal for tonight. I was nervous. Not only because I would do my first rehearsal for the night but also I would meet the people working there. The waitresses, other dancers…all my coworkers and more.
I put on leggings, sneakers and a t-shirt. I didn’t think I needed anything fancier than that. I would change into my dance outfit anyway. These were the most comfortable clothes I could wear while doing my rehearsal. It was still too early to go to the club, though.
For a few hours, I just wanted to relax and enjoy the time in my home. This house had embraced my loneliness and cries since I moved in. But now, I wanted to feel comfortable after a long time. I went to the kitchen to prepare my “energy-bomb” as Gary called it. It was a mixture of fruits, celery, spinach and peppermint. I wasn’t a fan of it but Gary insisted that I needed the energy. So, twice a week I drank it with silent curses.
I brought my “grocery-bomb”, this was the name I called that thing, with me to the living room and grabbed the book I’d been reading recently. It provided an escape from my real life into my deepest, secret fantasies. Reading about the female character in a loving passionate relationship with two men at the same time, made my heart skip a beat or two, making my skin prickle with sweat and goosebumps as I wished my own darkest desires would come true.
I almost dropped my kindle when the disturbing tone of my alarm interrupted my reading. I always got lost in the book, losing the track of time; setting the alarm was the only way to guarantee that I wouldn’t be late. There was nothing to do for the frustration I felt because I had to stop reading.
Closing the kindle with a long exhale, I grabbed my purse, coat and left my apartment just after a few last touches to my hair.
I considered the idea of buying a car as I waited for the bus in the cold. During the summer, I would often use a bicycle, enjoying the warm summer air on my skin and feeling free. But in winters, the idea wasn’t as appealing as it used to be.
I shivered again, feeling the cold air like a whiplash on my face. I sighed deeply in relief when the bus finally came to take me to my destination...to my destiny.
After two blocks of walking from the bus station, I finally arrived at the club. The Club Nymph.
Inside the club, everything looked and felt the same. I knew it wouldn’t chang
e over a night but I assumed in the late lights of the day it would maybe look different. More ordinary maybe or more like the other bars. But Club Nymph was nothing like the bars I used to go to. It was exotic, sensual and it screamed sex.
I thought to myself how the name perfectly depicted the true meaning of it – like the sirens in Greek Mythology would lure their victims, we were calling our customers to see us perform, we were luring them with our bodies and sex. We were nymphs in the look, sexual spirits, but we were sirens deep down in our souls.
“Violet!” The voice that caught my attention wasn’t familiar.
I turned my gaze to the girl who was coming toward me. She was shorter than me with alabaster skin, raven black hair, and green eyes. She was covered in leather from head to toe. Short-tight-black leather skirt, black leather bustier, and knee length black boots. She looked like a gothic pixie.
“I knew it was you. Yesterday, I saw you on the stage and with that hair of yours, it’s hard to miss you,” she said smiling. Then, I noticed the piercing on her bottom lip. I wasn’t fan of piercings for myself but it looked so good on her.
“Umm, hi,” I said unsure of what to do exactly.
She hit her forehead with the base of her hand.
