1 - Mr Stranger

Araceli's Pov

The sharp tone of my alarm jolted me awake, dragging me from my deep sleep. My heart thundered in my chest as I reached blindly for my phone, squinting at the screen.

5:00 PM.

Three hours. That was all I had to turn myself from this sleepy mess into the polished, untouchable dancer the club demanded.

The familiar ache in my muscles reminded me of the night before. Exhaustion lingered, but there was no time to dwell on it. The day was already slipping away.

I threw off the sheets, stumbling into the bathroom. The cold spray of the shower against my skin had me fully awake. I reached for my hair shampoo, my mind filled with thoughts of tonight’s checklist: pack for work, grab food, feed Buttons, and drop off Mrs. Mackenzie’s salad. Her constant motherly concern about my health made me smile faintly as I scrubbed shampoo through my hair.

The way she fussed over me, always claiming I didn’t eat enough or worked too hard, it was a comfort I didn’t know I needed until she offered it.

By the time I stepped out, my body was awake, my mind alert. Today, I settled for a casual outfit, brown joggers, a beige sports bra, and my white cropped hoodie, I tossed essentials into my duffel bag, heels, makeup, perfume, work clothes. Buttons, my ginger cat, stretched on the counter, watching me with sleepy eyes.

“Hungry?” I cooed, filling his bowl. He purred, his mouth wide open, tail flicking contentedly as he began eating.

With everything packed and Buttons settled, I left the apartment, stopping at Mrs. Mackenzie’s door. She opened it before I could knock, her frail frame wrapped in a knitted shawl.

“You are late today, dear,” she teased, taking the salad with a knowing smile.

“I know, Mrs. Mackenzie. Long night,” I replied with a laugh.

She tsked. “Take care of yourself, Araceli dear. You are young now, but your body will protest one day.” She adjusted the shawl as she continued, “When I was young, there was no stopping me, I partied, dated more men than I should have,” She gave a sly smile, her glasses fell off her nose and she gently pushed it up with a finger.

“And I also worked hard, you need to rest this little head of yours, take it from me darling.”

“I will Mrs Kenz, I just need a couple more bucks and I will be rich for good.” I teased.

She rolled her eyes at me, “You always say that, why don't you ever listen to…”

I placed a quick kiss on her cheeks, promising her I would listen to her advice, though I knew she wouldn’t believe me.

I hurried down the stairs, living on the sixth floor with no elevator had its perks, this is my workout routine so I don't have to go to the gym.

“This counts as cardio.” I mumbled, more to convince myself than anything.

The neighborhood was busy as usual, a bunch of teenagers gathered at a corner, cans of spray paints in their hands, smells of fumes, laughter from corner shops, and the smell of fried food mixed with garbage dumped by the roadside. 

Catcalls followed me as I hailed a cab, but I ignored them, sliding into the backseat and giving the driver the club’s address.

I made a quick stop at a drive-thru to grab a quick meal for myself. 

I hurriedly scarfed down the burger and fries as this would be the only free time I can have.

 By the time I reached the club, nerves began to creep in. The dressing room buzzed with energy, ladies laughing, curling hair, adjusting straps. Ellen waved me over, her bright blonde ponytail swaying as she leaned toward the mirror.

“Look who finally made it!” she teased.

“Had to keep you on your toes,” I shot back, dropping my bag on the vanity table.

Her grin widened. “Guess what?”

She stalled, obviously wanting to build anticipation.

“Girl, if you don't start talking, this wipes will find its way to your face.” I warned, a smile on my face.

She laughed before she went on, 

“The boss's favorite pulled her diva act again. She whined until Tony bumped her to the opening act.”

“Of course, she did.” I rolled my eyes. “Tony’s probably hoping for more...favors.”

We shared a laugh, our banter soothing my nerves.

Charissa and Tony have always had a thing, while they think other colleagues are not aware, we all know the juicy details of their tango.

 As I worked on my makeup, light but sultry, our conversation shifted to gossip about customers and bad tips. By the time I was ready, the knot in my stomach had loosened.

The lights dimmed, signaling showtime. Standing backstage with Ellen and the other ladies, I took a deep breath. 

Regardless of how many times I have done this, it never gets any easier. The music started, heavy bass vibrating through the walls.

The crowd was frantic, their loud voices filling the room as the curtain lifted. Their faces lit under flashing lights, but I didn’t focus on them. My body moved in perfect rhythm with the music, each practiced motion earning louder cheers.

And then, I felt it, a gaze that burned through my back.

My eyes found him. He sat near the back, looking dangerously handsome in a black suit. Tousled dark hair framed his face, his piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, almost as though it bore into my soul.

Heat crawled up my neck. His presence felt like it had a hold on me, a small smirk on his lips. He looked out of place in the club, I could tell he doesn't belong to the slum. I fought to keep my composure, returning my focus to the beat of the music.

When the performance ended, the club roared with applause. My heart still raced, but not from the dance.

Tony’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, it's time!” He roared, and the cheers intensified.

“Now, buckle up, pick a lady for a personal dance and remember, the highest bidder wins!”

My shoulders tensed. This is the part I hated, the part where men treated us like a commodity.

The bidding started, each call louder and higher than the last, everyone trying to secure their spot with a dancer.

After the other girls had been selected, I was the only one left.

“Now, we have everyone's favorite here,” Tony's hand rested on my shoulder and I subtly brushed it off.

“I want you to give your best for her, now what are we starting with?”

Hands shot up, prices ringing from every corner of the room.

“One hundred dollars.”

“Two hundred!”

“Three hundred dollars!”

I gritted my teeth, stopping an eye-roll and forcing a smile as the bids climbed. 

“Come on gentlemen, is this the best you can do for my fine lady?” Tony was obviously enjoying this. He loves making a profit off of me.

“Give me your best shot.” He charges the crowd.

“Three hundred and fifty dollars!” 

“Four hundred dollars!”

Then, his voice cut through the noise.

“Two thousand.”

The room fell silent. My breath caught as I turned, already knowing who had spoken.

He waited a few seconds and when no one bid higher, the man in the suit rose, his movements slow and confident. His presence consumed the room as he strode forward, every eye drawn to him. I saw the look on the ladies face, even a few of my colleagues threw me ‘the dirty look.’

Tony practically tripped over himself to accommodate the stranger, but I couldn’t ignored him. This is the highest bidder he has ever gotten in his little shawty club.

The money will no doubt settle his bills and well as mine, if I'm being honest.

My focus remained on those piercing blue eyes as he settled into the chair brought to center stage.

“Araceli, whatever you do, however you do it, I don't care. Make sure this man becomes a regular customer here, he pays handsomely.” He whispered into my ears as he walked down the stage.

The slow beat of R*ck*t by B**once filled the air, wrapping around me like a second skin.

 I moved, letting the music guide me closer to him. His gaze never wavered, his hands remaining at his sides. It was both unnerving and intriguing.

As I straddled his lap, my heart raced, a wild mix of nerves and something else, something dangerous.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, his voice low and rough. It did something to me that I wasn't ready to admit.

“Yeah,” I whispered, the word barely audible.

When his hands settled on my back, they weren’t rough or greedy. They were steady, warm, and deliberate.  It was almost...respectful.  

It felt very strange for one who was paying such an insane amount of money for only a few minutes of dance. Each subtle motion sent shivers through me, my breath caught in my throat as the moment stretched. I swayed my hips with a stranger mix of nerves and confidence.

The song ended, but we didn’t move. My chest heaved as I searched his face, his smirk deepening. For a split second, I felt a wild urge to lean forward, to feel his lips on mine. The crowd roared in appreciation, but I barely noticed, lost in the depths of his blue gaze, wondering if he had felt the same electric pull I had.

For the first time in forever, I felt a good kind of sensation after dancing with a 'client’ and that scared me.