The back office at the Red Velvet was dim, smelling faintly of liquor and old smoke. A single overhead light buzzed above. A worn couch sat against the wall, cluttered with empty beer bottles and cigarette ash. Ozzy was slouched on it, scrolling through his phone, feet kicked up on the table like he owned the place.Riko stepped in first, followed by Luis, who shut the door behind them.Ozzy grinned. “What’s up, boys? You here to drink or count bodies?”Luis replied flatly, “Get out.”Ozzy blinked. “Huh?”Luis, gruffer now: “I said get the f*ck out, Ozzy. Me and Riko got business.”Ozzy, mock-offended, sat up. “Damn, what’s with the attitude? I was here first.”Luis shot back, “You wanna keep your teeth, or argue about seniority?”Ozzy grumbled as he got up. “Fcking hell, man. Always acting like you run sht.” He shoved past them, muttering curses as he exited.Luis slammed the door behind him and locked it. He turned to Riko, who was already lighting a cigarette, eyes suspicious.Riko
An abandoned car wash — their hideout for now.The place was falling apart—rusted metal, flickering neon remnants of letters long dead. Inside, the cracked tile floor was littered with beer bottles and cigarette butts. An old couch sat beneath a buzzing light. Riko leaned back on it, drink in hand. Milo and Luis sat nearby, half-drunk, the air thick with smoke and grime.The metal door screeched open, and Ozzy walked in, laughing to himself like he’d just heard the best joke in the world.Ozzy grinned. “Yo, Riko—you should’ve seen her, man. Barely spoke a word the whole trip. Had that look—y’know, that broken-doll look. Me and Milo? We trained her good. Real good.”Milo chuckled darkly, raising his bottle. “She stopped crying by the second night. Kinda miss the noise.”Ozzy smirked at Luis. “Shame Luis here missed the fun. What happened, man? You fall asleep or just scared to get your hands dirty?”Luis said flatly, “Was running drop-offs for you idiots. Boss said the girl was priorit
A week later, she was in bed alone again.Sunlight crept through the blinds. Her eyes opened slowly—today, she was back on stage. She sighed. She hated the attention of those strange men, but she hated serving them drinks more.She got ready like every day. The routine was unbearable, but it was the only thing she knew. Today, though, she wore one of her performance outfits. She was dancing again—and tonight, she was the main performer. She had to be ready.After Ivy's light performance, it was almost her turn.Milo knocked on the door before sticking his head inside and calling her name.“Raven, you’re next.”He left immediately, and she rose to go to the stage._The lights dimmed to a deep, smoky violet. A slow, haunting melody hummed through the speakers—something sultry and atmospheric, like a spell in sound.Then she appeared.Raven stepped into the spotlight wearing black lace, sheer sleeves clinging to her arms, and a velvet corset cinched tight around her waist. Her skin glow
The room is silent, lit by a single flickering fluorescent overhead. A metal table sits in the center. One chair occupied. The other, empty—waiting.Danny Vega, 23, jittery, sits with a busted lip and one eye already swelling. His hands are cuffed in front of him, picking at a raw spot on his thumb. He tries to sit tall, to look tough, but his leg bounces with nervous energy.The heavy door creaks open.DI Reyes enters. Calm. Controlled.No badge on a chain. No suit. Just a worn brown leather jacket over a white shirt, dark jeans, and boots that have seen too many alleys. But the most striking thing about him is his piercing grey eyes—cool, unreadable, sharp as razors.He doesn’t rush. He doesn’t speak. No need for theatrics—his silence is the threat.He pulls out the chair across from Danny, sits, and drops a manila folder onto the table with a deliberate thud. The sound makes Danny flinch. Reyes stares at him for a long moment before finally speaking.“You know what I really hate, D
She woke up in the afternoon, alone. The sun leaked through the blinds—too bright for how late it felt. The bed beside her was cold. Riko was gone; probably had been for hours. The apartment smelled like cheap cologne, sweat, and whatever takeout Riko had left behind the night before.Her stomach twisted, low and sharp. The cramps were back—angrier this time, like her body was catching up on all the pain it had been forced to delay. She curled in on herself for a moment, pressing a hand to her lower belly, but it didn’t help.She had to get up. There was nothing in the apartment that could help, and he hadn’t left her anything. No painkillers. No food. No care.She dragged herself out of bed and pulled on an oversized black hoodie—the one that hung down to her thighs and covered the bruises. It still smelled like him, faintly. That alone made her nauseous.Outside, the light stung her eyes. She was accustomed only to the dark. She kept her head down and walked quickly. Her body ached
Characters:Name: Helena Lynch (Lena)Stage Name: RavenAge: 27Occupation: Stripper (under coercion)Current Situation: Trapped in a toxic strip club environment, manipulated by her controlling “boyfriend” and drug dependency.Appearance:• Slim build, sharp cheekbones, and pale skin that looks even starker under the club lights; 5’0” tall.• Jet-black hair with messy bangs she sometimes cuts herself.• Dark, tired eyes with heavy eyeliner—a mask of confidence, though the sadness still bleeds through.• Off-stage, she wears oversized hoodies and jackets she can disappear into.• Always appears a little anxious, a little wired—like she’s constantly bracing for something.Name: Eric PerezAlias: RikoAge: 36Occupation: Unofficial manager/pimp at the strip club; acts like he owns the girls, as he’s the one who recruits them.Current Situation: Lena’s controlling “boyfriend”—manipulative, violent, and emotionally abusive.Appearance:• Muscular, gritty build with an intimidating physica