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I'm trying to find these rare moments where you feel completely illuminated
WERNER HERZOG
Istumbled into my bedroom, giggling to myself and shaking on too-high heels and too much vodka. I drank from the bottle that I nabbed off the bar on my way out of Club Envy. A glance in the huge mirror on the wall made me laugh more at the reflection of myself. My hair was a mess of dark waves flowing around me like a wild hurricane halo. My silver sequined tiny bra had pushed my tits right up. The thin black G-string had ridden right up in my ass crack. I dropped the vodka bottle, my blue eyes glowed with excitement. Stepping into the mirror, I pulled and pushed at the skin on my face, a mask over emptiness. A skeleton of high cheek bones, perfect pouty lips, thanks to Botox in all the right places because mother dearest has only the best inject a small fortune into the layers of the Walsh women’s skin to keep up with youthful bimbos that daddy brings to apartments and holiday homes thinking mother doesn’t know. She knows and she is sick with the mental drain. I am over the burden of caring for her fragile soul. Bellz died tonight. Now I no longer had the ‘sorry mother I’m with Bellz. I cannot come home and bath you and hold your hand as you cry into a Pinot Noir’ excuse.
At least the makeup that Kitty had plastered over my face was still in place, the perfect smoky cat-eye enhancing my looks, making me appear demure yet sexy. Intriguing and quite like the name they called me, Enigma. I still couldn’t believe it. Mistaken for their new main act. A sexy female dancer—an artist on the pole. I heard the whispers and I felt their eyes. It gave me a rush.
I sank down on my bed and pulled off the murderous black heels that had been torturing me all night. I’d learn to handle the pain, I was sure, for I wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. I finally felt free, and I didn’t want to give that up.
I laid back and stared at my ceiling, letting myself think about what my life had become, but only for a short while. The key was never to focus on it for too long. I had to forget—I needed to. She was gone. I didn’t have that anymore. It had only been hours ago and yet it felt like days. I had lost that huge part of my daily routine and now I would feed it with something else. Something like drinking, dancing and letting Kitty place little pills on the tip of my tongue.
My body ached for a release. I was high on the effects of the little pill and the night. Lost inside the high of men’s wolf whistles and applause. The way they watched me move. The way my body felt under the bright lights and on the pole. It was fascinating. I couldn’t shake the way the man’s eyes sliced through me, with an edge of danger and slithers of sexual fear. He woke the devil in me, and I wanted to taste him, lick the amber liquid that sat on the edge of his lips. Tonight, I had woken up… came to life under spotlights and fog. A sexual song and G-string. Under plump, pressed up breasts wrapped in a silver sequined bra. By day I was Brenyn Walsh, lawyer at her uncle’s law firm JB and Sons. Pity the sons part wasn’t as strong as JB and niece. The sons drank away their trust funds and licked their salary’s in the form of white powder from their mistresses’ lips.
By night I was Enigma, exotic dancer at Club Envy.
