The Devil's Barbie Doll

I have twelve more hours...

The thought loops endlessly in my head like a curse as neon lights flash violently across the nightclub ceiling, painting the writhing crowd below in shades of blue, pink, and blood-red...

It's just twelve more hours remaining until my worst nightmare becomes real... I stare down at the glass sitting in front of me and swallow hard before taking another shaky sip of the liquid inside it and instant regret burns down my throat.

God... It tastes like gasoline mixed with nail polish remover!

My face twists violently and I cough into my hand while I hear the bartender snort faintly under his breath from farther down the counter.

Okay...

Maybe alcohol is disgusting... Or maybe it just specifically hates me personally. Still, I force myself to take another sip because tonight requires bravery and apparently bravery comes bottled in amber glasses. At least according to every movie ever...

"Come on Barbara... this should be easy." I mutter under my breath and take a deep breath. Girls do this stuff all the time... Right? I mean... How hard could it possibly be to seduce a guy? Lure him into bed... lose my virginity... Boom! All done. Most men were practically rabid for sex anyway, that much I knew. I just needed to find someone decent or at least someone who looked clean enough not to murder me afterward?

Shit! This is a crazy idea...

The bass from the music vibrates through my body as I glance around the crowded dance floor again, trying not to look as nervous as I feel. There are several bodies grinding together under flashing lights, several women in glitter and leather laughing sultrily against tattooed men and the air is thick with smoke and sin... Everything about this place feels dangerous somehow...

I grip my drink tighter and just then I spot a guy across the room already staring at me... He’s tall with short cropped hair and conventionally attractive in a greasy sort of way. When our eyes meet, he grins immediately, then he winks and my stomach flips.

Well… that was easy...

I try to channel a sulty confidence I absolutely do not possess and I smile back at him or at least I attempt to. I’m pretty sure it comes out looking more constipated than seductive!

Still, he starts walking toward me and my pulse spikes...

Oh God! Oh my God he’s actually coming over here!!! Panic immediately crashes into me.

What do I even say now? How do these conversations usually go? Hi? Um... would you like to take my virginity before my forced wedding tomorrow???

Jesus Christ!

I get even more nervous as he gets closer but before he reaches me, a woman storms out of nowhere and throws an entire drink directly into his face. The splash is so violent I actually jump!

"What the hell, Vanessa?!" the guy shouts but the crazy looking brunette ignores him and glares murderously in my direction. I freeze! Her eyes are still raking over me like she’s deciding whether or not to skin me alive but thankfully she just grabs the guy by the ear and drags him backward into the crowd while he sputters apologies.

I quickly look away.

Okay... Definitely not that guy.

I glance down at my phone again and see it's almost midnight and my stomach twists violently... less than twelve hours left... Till the Wedding.

By tomorrow afternoon I’ll be standing at the altar beside Pierre Moretti... a grubby gangster with sweaty palms and bad breath while my stepfather, Gary looks on proudly like he didn’t just sell me off like livestock to settle his debts! The thought makes nausea crawl up my throat and I quickly take another large gulp of the alcohol. It turns out to be a bad idea... I cough again and my eye start to water. What was even in this thing? Poison??

God... this entire plan is so stupid! I probably look ridiculous sitting here alone like some desperate hooker from a cheap movie scene. My cheeks burn as I glance down at myself...

The dress definitely isn’t helping!

It’s black, tiny and sinful... The neckline plunges low enough to expose an alarming amount of cleavage while the hem barely brushes the tops of my thighs. Thin straps cling to my shoulders and the tight material hugs every curve of my body like a second skin...

I have never ever worn anything like this in my life... I'd grabbed it earlier on my way back home without even checking it properly and I’d spent nearly forty minutes staring at myself in the mirror afterwards wondering if I looked sexy or just deeply confused... Currently I’m leaning heavily towards deeply confused and even now I keep tugging the hem lower every thirty seconds even though it’s physically impossible for the dress to become less scandalous. But that’s good for tonight’s goal... Right?

I wrap one arm around myself self consciously and the thought hits me suddenly... I don’t belong here! Not even remotely... I feel like a nervous church girl who accidentally wandered into Satan’s living room. What am I even doing here??

Another chug of the alcohol disappears down my throat before I can overthink it and suddenly someone beside me chuckles and the low smooth sound startles me so badly I nearly inhale the alcohol!

"Easy there, Little Tiger..." a feminine voice purrs beside me. "Chugging whiskey like it’s water? You know that shit’s gonna knock you flat on your ass later, right?"

I sputter violently into my drink, coughing as I whip my head sideways and blink slowly... Because wow... The woman beside me is ridiculously hot!

Her dark hair cascades down her back in glossy waves and her red dress clings to her body like wet paint and perfectly matches her lipstick, nails, and towering stilettos. There’s even a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers... Apparently this woman has chosen a theme in life and committed to it aggressively. She arches one perfect brow at me and I realize I’m staring.

"Um…" I manage intelligently. "Yeah?"

Her mouth curves slowly and her sultry voice rings out again "Are you even old enough to drink?"

I flush instantly. Okay... Excuse me???

"I’m nineteen." I grit out and she hums skeptically before taking a drag from her cigarette. "Cute."

Cute? What am I... A puppy? Was she making fun of me?

Her sharp gaze slides down my body slowly. "Nice outfit though..." she says casually. "Those are killer curves you’ve got there." I nearly choke again as her next words roll out "You’d make insane money if you were working the floors tonight..."

My eyes widen in horror. "Oh my God no..." I blurt immediately. "I'm not a hooker and I’m definitely not interested in sex work."

The woman bursts out laughing but it doesn't sound mocking exactly. Just… amused.

"You?" She says between chuckles. "A hooker? Honey, of course not..." she slides gracefully onto the stool beside mine and gives me a knowing look, "You are not fooling anyone, sweetheart... I know your type."

I frown suspiciously. "And what exactly is my type?"

She leans closer and my breath catches slightly as she smirks at me, "I bet this is your first time stepping foot inside a nightclub..."

Heat floods my cheeks instantly...

Damn it! How could she tell? I must be doing something wrong if it was that obvious... Still I try to recover quickly. "You have no way of knowing that." I retort and the woman laughs softly. "Honey, I can always tell the sharks apart from the guppies..."

The what from the what? What the hell is her deal anyway...

"First off..." she says smoothly, "you’re sitting ramrod straight like you’ve got a fist shoved up your ass."

My jaw drops at her crude language and she smirks wider around another drag of her cigarette. "You’re also looking around with those big wide innocent baby blues... like a lost Disney princess."

I scowl but my face burns with shame, "That is not true!"

"Oh it absolutely is..." She gestures lazily around us, "And in places like this?"she continues. "Creeps can smell innocence from miles away. You keep looking around like that and one of them’s gonna drag you into a dark corner before midnight..."

My stomach twists nervously and I watch with surprise as she takes my drink directly out of my hand and downs the rest of it casually like it's water!

"Also," she adds, "you’ve adjusted your dress like fifteen times in the last minute." I immediately stop tugging at the hem of my dress and the woman grins triumphantly as she catches me in the act. "I mean honestly..." she says, eyeing my chest. "I don’t know why you keep doing that though. Your tits look fantastic in that dress!"

My face is practically on fire now as I try to recover from her words. Who even talks like this?? So crude and yet so sultry... like silk. This woman feels like getting hit by a very glamorous tornado... It's dizzying!

"I'm Rhyssa, by the way," she says brightly and I scoff internally... Of course her name is something like Rhyssa... A woman dressed entirely in red with cheekbones sharp enough to kill a man could never possibly be named something normal like Jane...

She leans forward and flutters her lashes at me "Also... if you ever change your mind about the sex work thing, hit me up."

I scoff. "Trust me. That’s never happening." By this time tomorrow I'd be permanently shackled to Pierre. He already told my stepdad he had no intention of letting me leave the house until I'd given him four sons! And they'd freaking laughed about it like it was a joke! So yeah... My life would be practically over by tomorrow.

Rhyssa shrugs lazily. "You never know where life might take you..."

Something about the way she says it makes the words feel heavier than they should but before I can respond, she suddenly leans closer and lowers her voice conspiratorially. "Also, love… if you’re trying to get laid tonight, I’d recommend the VIP section."

I nearly choke on my own spit!! "I am not trying to..." But she gives me a look and the words die in my throat... I mean who am I kidding...

"This place?" she continues, gesturing around the crowded club. "Is practically crawling with creeps." Her red lips curve slightly. "I mean the VIP section probably has creeps too. But at least they’re rich creeps... You'd make a lot of money too."

I stare at her incredulously "You seriously profile men by tax bracket?"

She rolls her eyes "Obviously." I snort before I can stop myself and Rhyssa smirks triumphantly like she’s won something. "Also... I saw you making eyes at Dante earlier," she says casually and I wince "The guy with the crazy girlfriend?" She chuckles "She's not his girlfriend... Dante doesn't do girlfriends... he's a bit of a perv... That’s when I knew I needed to intervene, when I saw you smile at him."

I grimace. "Yeah… I figured that out eventually."

She nods solemnly. "A lot of these men are more dangerous than you think..."

I stare into the distance for a moment, pondering on her words... Maybe a marriage to a gangster wasn’t actually the worst thing that could happen to me tonight.

Rhyssa slides my empty glass aside and jars me back to the present. "So..." she says. "VIP’s your best shot if you’re dead set on your little mission."

I cross my arms and shrug "I'm afraid you have me confused with somebody else... I’m not trying to get laid." Rhyssa says absolutely nothing, she just looks down pointedly at my dress and my face catches fire again. "Okay maybe I was trying to get laid..." I hiss under my breath. "But now I’m reconsidering every single life choice that brought me here."

"Been there..." Rhyssa says smugly.

"I just... I just think maybe this was a stupid idea." I bite my lips and Rhyssa shrugs, "Most fun ideas are stupid..."

"This doesn’t feel fun though..."

"That’s because you’re panicking, love..."

"I'm not panicking!"

"Sweetheart... you were chugging whiskey like a fish..." She arches a brow and I fall silent... Fair point.

Rhyssa signals the bartender before ordering fresh drinks and a moment later she slides something pink and sparkling toward me. I stare at it suspiciously.

"What is this?"

"A safer decision than whiskey."

She clinks her own glass lightly against mine. "On the house, love."

I hesitate before taking a cautious sip and my eyes widen. "Oh..."

Rhyssa grins. "Better?"

I give her a small smile "Way better..."

"Told you... Always listen to Rhyssa."

I take another small sip while she crosses her long legs beside me, her red nails are tapping lazily against the marble countertop and the club lights flash across her face like scattered rubies as she turns toward me fully and suddenly her eyes light up with something amused and mischievous.

"So... About getting laid..." she purrs and my stomach flips nervously at her tone.

"What kind of guy did you have in mind?"