CHAPTER TWO

I faced the portrait before me and began to paint. As I used the colour palette close to me and drew, the next minute I was done, I looked at the beautiful painting before. It was a naked portrait of a woman in tears. Close to her were two men with double spears trying to attack her and her baby.

The portrait best described me and how life was for me. I was always fond of doing new paintings anytime I was depressed or bothered with anything. I headed to the bathroom, switched on the shower, as the water spiraled around my body I remembered about my encounter last night. As I washed my body, I didn't even realize I started crying, I was in so much pain. I fixed myself something to eat, thinking of how I would visit the supermarket to get new colour palettes. Painting was the best thing I knew the best other than dancing. Back before I lost my parents to a ghastly car crash, I remembered I was so good at painting. I even painted a caricature portrait of my parents and I. My thoughts were distracted by the chiming sound of the kettle. As I turned the hot water into the mug, there was a knocking sound at my door.

It was Rochelle. Rochelle was my partner and best friend. I met her six years ago at the clubhouse. She taught me most of the moves I knew. She was a good dancer and her moves intrigued the men at the clubhouse, but after she taught me her killer moves and steps, I got more attention. Other girls from the classical team expected Rochelle to hate me, but she didn't, she was close to me, and we spent time together.

"What the hell happened Khloe?"

"The manager told me what happened to you last night at the club", Rochelle asked as I opened the door for her to get in.

"Are you hurt?" She asked.

"I'm okay Rochelle" I replied as I closed the door, walking back to the kitchen to make my tea.

"Those rich dumbfuck better stay away from you. You see why I always tell you to stay strapped," Rochelle said, protestedly

Rochelle always advised me to stay strapped while stripping with a private client. She always keeps a pocket knife close to her inner girdle as she dances, so no one plays a game with her. She adviced me to do the same, but I never really thought about it. Perhaps if I had a pocket knife with me, I would have fought those monsters who tried to make their way through me last night, but thanks to the pepper spray.

"Can I get you tea?" I asked Rochelle.

"Please do. I'm so tasty, the weather today is hot", she replied.

I served her tea and some biscuits while she told me how she slept with her previous client from the last VVIP lap dance section.

"That's a beautiful painting" Rochelle complimented.

"Thanks" I said as I looked back at the painting, as it made me sad.

"You know Khloe, I think you should show the world your painting instead of keeping it to die down here in your sitting room and flipping your ass on a pole for the rest of your life," Rochelle said.

"I know Rochelle. I'm saving up for...

"You have been saying this for the past six years. Who the hell are you saving for? Rochelle asked disrupting me

The question rang like a bell to my ear. Rochelle was right. Who the hell was I saving for? I ignored her question as I stood before my painting checking to see if it was now dried.

"It's not like you don't get enough money at the club, they tip us so well. As for me, I'm okay working there, but, girl, you are not happy working there. So Khloe, tell me where is all your money going? Rochelle asked again, looked at me, we looked at each other. I knew it was time to let the cat out of the bag, it was time I told her my secret.

"Come on girl. Tell me, is someone blackmailing you? Does anyone have your nude pictures or videos and is using them against you?" Rochelle asked these different questions calmly hoping for an answer.

"My son" I answered truthfully.

"What? Rochelle asked with a serious look on her face.

"I spend all the money I earn from the clubhouse on my son in Colombia"

The look on Rochelle's face was that of shock. I told no one I had a son. It was a secret I kept to myself for obvious reasons.

"You have a son? Rochelle asked

"Yes Rochelle, I have a son. He's eight years old".

*****************************************************

There was an abrupt silence in the room. Rochelle was still in shock. I expected it because it was a secret before now.

"Yes Rochelle, I have a son" I said, recalling the whole scenario of what happened. I got pregnant by my ex-boyfriend who I once loved, who promised to take care of my baby, but while I was six months pregnant he ran away with a rich woman who I later discovered to be his wife. I also heard he died of cancer two years ago, so unfortunate, I said to myself out of pain.

"Khloe, so you have a son!" Rochelle asked again, still in shock.

"Yes"

"Wow, so. So what's his name?"

"Daniel.  He's eight" I replied.

"Wow eight. Who's the father?"

"He's dead. But he left me, he abandoned me". I said as I cried out of control. Rochelle held on to me, consoling me.

"But why did you keep it a secret?"

"I couldn't bear the pain that came from it. I don't want my child to know his mother's a whore"

"You are not a whore. You are a dancer". Rochelle said.

"A stripper", I corrected.

"I'm a stripper Rochelle. I don't want my child to know what I am doing. That's why I took him far away from me. I send anything I earned from stripping to him. I want him to lack nothing, I give him all the comfort". I said as tears continued rolling down from my cheeks. Rochelle held on to me, placed my hair on her shoulders as she patted me.

"Everything is going to be fine" Rochelle said hopefully as she patted my hair this time.

"When?"

"When's everything going to be fine?" I asked.

"Soon I promise. Everything is going to be okay" she said. As I cried on Rochelle's shoulder I knew everything wasn't going to be okay, not now, not soon.