Love To Hate Me
Carlos, the manager who hired me, greets me with a grin, his eyes scanning my outfit as I ascend the stairs and grasp the pole.
The club is packed tonight, as expected from one of Los Angeles' most popular hotspots, attracting a crowd of celebrities, politicians, and the ridiculously wealthy perverts.
The music starts. Rihanna's "Woo" pulsing through the speakers. I move in sync, my hips and waist swaying flawlessly as I lift my body onto the pole, twirling effortlessly around it, fueled by my core strength.
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