CHAPTER 2

LAURA

Eight hours had passed since the strange, hot man asked me to wait.

I had been driven out of the room by the hotel staff, and now I was back in the dressing room with the other girls.

With the sun shining brightly outside, shame was finally beginning to settle into my chest.

But it was nothing compared to the fear I was feeling.

Apparently, I now owed the stylist two thousand five hundred dollars for the outfit, makeup, and styling.

“Fuck me,” I cursed under my breath.

The pants and leash that could’ve literally been used to strangle me was mine to pay for.

And after all that humiliation, I made absolutely nothing last night.

I felt violated.

No…

Used.

Memories of me arching helplessly beneath a stranger’s touch flashed through my mind, and I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, fighting back my embarrassment.

“Getting déjà vu?” a voice asked from the corner.

I turned slowly.

It was her.

The same girl whose conversation had lured me into this mess.

“I’m Keisha,” she said, sitting beside me casually.

“I didn’t even make a hundred dollars, let alone a hundred thousand,” I blurted out, like she could somehow hear my thoughts.

“Wait, what?” she laughed.

“I’m Laura,” I replied lazily, shaking her hand.

“I was with a greedy ogre all night and managed to make a hundred thousand. What do you mean you made nothing?” she asked, genuinely shocked.

I scoffed.

So I suck at being a whore? I thought, smiling at her, until my eyes suddenly noticed something.

Her neck had angry red marks around it, like someone had strangled her.

More reddish bruises scattered across her chestnut skin, mostly around her chest and thighs.

“You sure did,” I muttered slowly, suddenly feeling worried.

The sadness barely settled before I pushed it away.

I really couldn’t be feeling bad for anybody right now. I had exactly thirteen days left to somehow raise nine million dollars, and less than twenty-four hours to come up with Joyce’s money.

“Fuck me!” I groaned loudly, gripping my hair.

“You should scream,” Keisha replied mockingly. “I would’ve traded clients with you for a dollar.”

She bit her lip strangely before laughing to herself.

“If only you offered me that deal a few hours ago,” I muttered nervously.

“Girl, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I think I fucked it up. Like I always do.”

And now that I thought about it, maybe I really did. I was supposed to please him. Instead, I was trembling, moaning, and losing my mind beneath his touch.

“What if that’s why he didn’t return?” I asked, thinking out loud.

“Girl, relax. Everybody messes up their first time. But whether you fucked up or not, you still owe that woman her money,” Keisha added nonchalantly.

“I know,” I whispered tiredly.

“I got a deal though.”

I turned slowly to look at her.

“I have a side job I do on regular days. I can put you on… as long as you give me fifty percent.”

“What?” I glared at her. “That’s too much.”

I didn’t ask what job.

“Forty.”

I arched my brow in disbelief.

“Come on, girl,” she sighed dramatically. “I’ll dress you up myself. You literally have nothing.”

“Twenty,” I replied stubbornly.

She stared at me for a second before laughing.

“Okay, girl. But you better wrap those curls up carefully. I might be a baddie, but I’m no damn hairstylist,” she stressed, walking away.

A weak chuckle escaped me.

I wasn’t even in the mood for jokes.

Making a reckless decision because your mother had been kidnapped and threatened with having her organs harvested was one thing.

But consciously deciding in broad daylight to become a whore?

That was something else entirely. Something my heart had not prepared for.

I pulled my knees to my chest, rested my forehead against them, and let my long hair fall forward on either side.

Then I broke down and sobbed.

The room immediately fell silent.

“Your hair,” a voice said.

I lifted my head slowly.

It was Joyce.

“What?” I croaked.

“Give me half of it and I’ll forget the debt.”

I stared at her for a few seconds.

Then I realized my hair probably wasn’t even worth that much anyway.

“Okay,” I whispered weakly.

She disappeared briefly before returning with a pair of scissors.

Within two minutes, she was done.

Fifteen devoted years of my life were gone just like that.

I suddenly felt bare.

Vulnerable.

Like someone had stripped away the last beautiful thing about me.

Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks again, but this time they were quieter.

Maybe from relief.

At least I no longer owed two thousand five hundred dollars.

****

“I’ve never seen a white girl with a Black girl body before,” Keisha teased as we walked down the alley to her studio apartment.

“I’m mixed,” I laughed shyly. “My mom’s Brazilian. The boobs came from her.”

“No, girl,” she said, shaking her head dramatically. “It’s the ass. They’re so round and huge. And your waist? Look at this body!”

We both burst into laughter like little girls.

She entered her passcode, and the door clicked open.

Her house was huge yet incredibly cozy. Her bedroom and furniture were decorated in shades of olive green, while the rest of the house was furnished in rich mahogany.

We talked for a few minutes before eventually falling asleep and sleeping through the afternoon. When we woke, it was already six p.m. She ordered some pizza for dinner, and afterward, we headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

By seven, we were already rummaging through her closet, trying on clothes and throwing outfits together.

“You have so many nice clothes,” I said. “I’m jealous.”

“Soon you’ll realize there’s nothing to be jealous about,” she replied dryly.

A weak smile touched her lips as she applied mascara.

“All this glitter doesn’t take pain away.”

She placed the mascara back onto the table quietly.

I stared closely at her reflection in the mirror, and I honestly didn’t understand how someone with her kind of apartment, huge closet, and seemingly no debt could still be unhappy.

But I knew one thing. The first part was true. Soon, I would understand too.

By nine p.m., we arrived at a small club in the suburbs of New York.

Unlike last night, I straightened my back confidently as we entered.

I’m not going to be timid tonight, I told myself that over and over.

If I made a hundred thousand every night for a hundred nights, then I could quit.

“How much do you think we’ll make tonight?” I asked hopefully as we moved through the noisy club.

“Eight hundred. One thousand if we’re lucky,” Keisha replied casually without looking at me.

I stopped walking immediately.

“What?” I exclaimed. “Keisha, what did you just say?”

She finally turned toward me.

“These are ordinary men, Laura. You only see men like the one you were with last night maybe twice a month. Thrice on a good month.”

She shrugged.

“Every other night, you work here.”

My world spun slightly, but I forced myself to stay composed.

If I only made one thousand every night, then it would take forever to raise three million.

My mom would be dust beneath the earth before I was able to raise that amount earning peanuts.

Everything after entering the club became blurry.

I had no memory of arriving at the waiting room or why Keisha was calling my name.

“Hey! Are you okay? You need to get on the pole.”

“What?”

“You need to get on the pole!” she yelled over the loud music.

I peeked through the curtain and studied the room.

“I can’t dance,” I admitted. “I thought we would just go into rooms like last night.”

Keisha stared at me like I had completely lost my mind.

“Oh my God, Laura. You’re almost stupid.”

She sighed.

“This is the real world. This is where we actually work. Last night was a special invite.”

“Alright,” I muttered nervously. “I’m a grown woman. I’ll figure it out.”

I slowly started removing my dress before stopping awkwardly at my bikini.

“Girl, what are you doing? Strip.”

“What?”

“You’re a naked ballerina, girl.”

“But those girls are dressed,” I complained immediately.

This was seriously starting to feel like a setup.

“This isn’t VIP,” she explained impatiently. “You can dance here in your bikini and get showered with one dollar bills while being harassed all night.”

My mouth dropped open.

“And oh,” she added casually, “the club takes thirty percent of whatever you make.”

She smiled slightly.

“So good luck making a hundred dollars and going home with seventy.”

I stared at her in utter disgust before quickly hurrying after her.

“Now if that scared you, put on your damn boots,” she said.

“Don’t worry. They can’t touch you.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes. They strictly cannot touch you. Unless, of course, they get needy and you’re willing to give up more for the right price.”

I dragged in a deep breath before reluctantly putting it on.

If I was going to do this, then I had to do it right.

We walked past a sweaty, loud crowd into a bright glass passage before making our way into a dimly lit room.

This room was quieter. Less disgusting too.

And unlike outside, people here actually threw decent money.

Ten-dollar bills.

Twenty-dollar bills.

My eyes widened when I spotted actual hundred-dollar bills flying around.

All I had to do was get as many as possible.

I shyly climbed onto the stage, my long legs trembling as I tried to move with what felt like the last bit of courage I had left.

I had only gripped the pole and made one clumsy turn when our eyes met.

My breath stopped instantly.

Him.

That strange, terrifyingly beautiful man from last night.

My knees immediately weakened, and my ankles buckled, causing me to fall awkwardly.

The men around the stage erupted into cheers and laughter while throwing money toward me.

Mortified, I quickly adjusted myself and forced myself back up.

All I had to do was pretend I didn’t see him.

Pretend…

But my eyes wouldn’t listen.

I dared to look again while slowly circling the pole, making unsure movements.

This time, my heart sank straight into my stomach.

He sat lazily in the corner with that same cold, unreadable stare fixed directly on me.

A cigarette balanced between his fingers.

Watching.

My chest tightened immediately.

His stare felt too intense.

Too uncomfortably tempting.

I panicked.

Then I ran straight off the stage and hurried back into the dressing room.

I quickly threw my clothes back on and headed toward the back exit of the club.