The rest of the story will be told in first person.
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-Beep beep beep beep beep-
Stupid alarm clock. Why do I even bother with it. I mean, I'm up all night anyway, so why do I set my alarm to nine o'clock anyway?
Oh yeah, so I can actually seem like a normal human being. I must have been fucking high when I came up with that idea.
Without moving my head from my pillow, I started searching for the switch to shut the damned beeping of my alarm clock off. It must have taken at least ten tries before I got it, which only succeeded in making me more irritable. I lied there for a few moments, not ready to greet the brightness that was the sun. Eventually I raised my head from my bed, and had to cover my eyes from the sun that shown from my window.
"Yep, as bright as I thought it would be," I groaned as I closed my eyes to let them adjust to the light. I got up from my bed, and walked into the bathroom, which was right next to my bedroom. Looking in the mirror, I wondered if anybody would still find me attractive if they saw me after I just woke up. I had been blessed with a body that even I thought was impressive, complete with a size nine waist, and a thirty seven double D bust line. How I fought with that I didn't know, probably a combination of how strong my upper body was, and really good bras.
Victoria's Secret is the best, and it has my name in it.
I wasn't muscular at all, in fact, I was just curvy. My face (during the better part of the day) I thought was pretty. I had big, sharp blue eyes, a nice sized nose that was sort of pointy, but not unattractive, my lips were naturally thick, and I was fortunate to not have a double chin. My platinum blue hair (also during the better part of the day) fell to my waist and was full of volume. At the moment though my face was suffering from grogginess and my hair was a disheveled mess, so I wasn't as attractive as I could have been.
After brushing my teeth and getting a quick shower in, I felt at least seventy percent better. I didn't plan on going anywhere today, so I just went into the kitchen in a t-shirt and panties. I had my heart set on making a really nice breakfast, hopefully consisting of eggs, bacon, toast, and either orange juice or milk. Sadly that dream was shot once I opened the refrigerator and saw the lack of food and stale milk.
"Maybe I'll have better luck with the instant pancakes," I thought going to the cabinet. Personally I hated pancakes, but they were good if there was nothing else to eat. When I saw that I had no instant pancake mix, I wasn't sure if I should have been happy or upset.
"Um, cereal?" I asked hopefully, as I looked deeper in the cabinet. Way in the back was a box of Frosted Flakes. At first I was happy, until I remembered two things: 1) the milk was stale, and 2) I bought this box last spring, over a year ago. Realizing that I now actually had to go out, I went back into my room to change into something slightly more presentable for public.
The one thing about my figure was that it made it hard to find clothes that fit. Almost all of my tops showed cleavage, and my skirts had to be a certain length, otherwise I would always be giving a preview of my panties. I settled on a yellow blouse halfway buttoned, a long blue jean skirt, and my white three inch stiletto boots. After tracking down my purse in the hurricane that I had the nerve to call my apartment I went outside, first to find an ATM machine, and then to find some breakfast.
As I stepped outside I was astonished by how different the city was in the daytime. At night this place was the worst place to be in, but in the daytime it actually looked like an okay neighborhood. Not perfect, but definitely not the worst.
I walked to the ATM machine down the street from my house. Even though I didn't have a job, I had inherited a lot of money from my parents after they died. I had been living alone for five years now, so I just used the money to pay my bills. I tried not to go into the account too much, but today was an emergency. I decided to take out forty dollars: five for breakfast, and thirty five for grocery shopping later. Unfortunately I had an unpleasant surprise once I looked at my account.
Checking account balance: $20.17
I just stood there for a few seconds in disbelief. I was a cheap person, so I never spent a lot of money. I shopped at Sears for Christ's sake! How the fuck did I go through one hundred billion dollars in five years?!
I just took out the five dollars I needed for breakfast (I still needed to eat) and decided to go downtown for breakfast.
Normally I would have taken the train, but it was such a nice day and I had a lot of thinking to do. I didn't know if the landlord wanted the rent or not. Either way I had to get a job within the next month. The landlord and I were cool, but she couldn't pull any strings for me.
I had actually tried to get a job, twice actually. None of those endeavors ended well though, as my temper got in the way as it always did. My first job was as a clerk in a super market. I stayed there for a few weeks, until some broad came in and had the audacity to claim that I was over charging her for the ten items she bought. It's not my fault that the prices were ridiculous, so she and I had it out. The boss fired me on the spot.
The next job I had was as a waitress in a bar. I stayed there for a few months actually, and my temper wasn't too much of a problem at first. But there was this one man, I think his name was Ryan, who thought he could hit on me and get a discount. I tried not to make a fuss, but one day Ryan brought a friend with him, and that friend tried to get a little too fresh with me squeezing my ass as I walked by. The boss refused to do anything about it, so I took matters into my own hands. Ryan ordered a milkshake, and I gave it to him, in his lap. I quit right after that incident.
Thinking about all of that got me really upset, because both of my bosses were men. The thing about Dusk City that really sucked was the fact that almost all the men in town were pigs. There were a few good ones, but most of them thought women were good for one thing and one thing only, fucking. Me, I refused to put up with it, and that was why I didn't have a boyfriend.
And why I had my night job...
I continued to think about what I was going to about my lack of cash while I fiddled around with the remains of my eggs. They weren't as good as mine, but they were good enough. I heard someone sit down and groan behind me, a man. Out of curiosity I turned around to see who it was. He looked around my age, so that put him at around twenty four. He was wearing a black short sleeved shirt, blue jeans, and black sneakers. He wasn't too muscular, but he wasn't skinny at all. He had short brown hair, and actually looked like a nice guy. Right now though, he looked sort of upset.
"Looks like somebody's having a bad day," I said to him. He turned around and chuckled sarcastically.
"Sweetheart, you have no idea," he said with a weary smile. He sighed and continued, "My best dancer told me that she's moving away, right before our summer celebration."
"Tough..." I could relate. I hated it when people bailed out on me when I needed them.
"The celebration is in two days, and I promised that I would have something special planned on that night," he groaned again, "I have to find a hot new dancer in two days or I'll lose valuable customers."
"And I thought I had problems."
The man looked back at me as if in shock, "A pretty woman like you has problems?"
I laughed at his compliment, "Honey, you don't know the half of it," I sat back in my seat thinking about my problem, "I'm out of food, I'm broke, and I'm completely inept when it comes to work."
"I can't stand men," I said frankly, surprised when he laughed.
"Yeah, me neither," he said, and he sounded honest. I thought men stuck together.
I looked up at him in disbelief, "You don't hang out with men? What are you, queer?" I asked, making him laugh even more!
"You don't pull any punches with that mouth of yours, do you?"
"It's this mouth of mine that keeps me independent," and single, but he didn't need to know that.
"I like you," he said with a smile, "And no, I'm not queer. I just like the company of women better, which is why I opened a strip club."
"Ah, a strip club," I said suspiciously. He obviously sensed that and got nervous.
"It's not like the other clubs!" he said quickly, I rolled my eyes.
"The women dance and take their clothes off, right?"
"Then I don't see a difference," I said shooting a look at him.
"Okay, so on the outside it seems like a normal strip joint, but I took the time to try to make it classy. I make sure that my girls are treated with respect, and it isn't a requirement to go completely nude either."
"Oh..." I nodded. Truth is I don't have a problem with stripping. I would have done it too, only most of the clubs that had stripping were horribly raunchy. This club was starting to grow on me. He handed me a card with his name (Michael), phone number, and the word "Masquerade" in fancy golden letters.
"It's called the Masquerade. The address is on the back. Since you need a job, and I need a dancer, I think we can help each other out. Besides, you definitely have the body for it," he said getting up. I didn't even say if I wanted the job and he was already offering. I wasn't sure if I should have been happy at my luck or annoyed that he assumed that I was that desperate.
Even if I partially was.
I put the card in my purse and looked up at him, "There's no guarantee I'll call you, ya know," I said to him. Michael chuckled, not arrogantly, but sweetly.
"I understand, but I'd wish you'd at least consider it. The pay is great, and it would really help me," he held his hand out, "My friends call me Mike."
I took his hand and shook it, "I'm Victoria, but most people call me Vicky."
"Nice to meet you Vicky. Hopefully I'll hear from you later," he said with a smile. As he walked out of the diner I pulled out his card again and looked at it. Should I take this as a sign from God? I decided to go home for now and think on it.
When I got home an hour later I saw a note on my door. I went inside to read it, and got the shock of my life. It wasn't just a note, it was an eviction notice. According to it, I had a month to pay my rent otherwise I would be kicked out.
How long had I been broke? According to this note, a while.
I sat my purse on the coffee table and fell on the couch face first. I felt like I wanted to cry. I had no food, no money, I was about to loose my apartment, and worst of all, I had no job to fix it.
That was when I remembered Michael. I looked at my purse and fished around inside until I found his card. Exotic Dancer, huh? Well, I always could dance, according to Michael I had the body for it, and I definitely knew how to be sexy; I would prove that tonight during my night job. The question was do I trust him? Was this "Masquerade" really a classy joint? Was there such a thing as a classy strip club? I didn't know, but I did know one thing...
I had just gotten that desperate...
I went over to the phone and dialed his number. When he answered I asked him a question that I know he was wanting me to ask.
"When can I come in?"