In the Beginning…
I strap the sandals into place and climb up on the stage. The music starts and I begin moving in the direction of the audience.
'Keep them thinking they have a chance.' is the only thought that makes its way through my mind.
Every night it is the same thing. I come out, gyrate my hips, show them my breasts, get some bills stuffed into my g-string and swing off the pole. At first this was fun. I loved the attention, and the money wasn't so bad either. Now, I am not sure for how much longer I want to do this.
Some of the pervs are ok. They'll thrown money on the stage or hook it into the sorry excuse for underwear I have on, and some – most – will through out a catcall or two. Then… then there's they asshole up front, who thinks that just because he's closer than the rest he can do what he feels like doing. I look over at Tim, our knight in a shinny black suit. I catch his eye and he nods in understanding. There will always be the idiot who tries to cop a feel of one of the dancers.
Grabbing the pole, I climb up then slide down upside-down. More money is thrown at me, some smelling of stale beer and nuts… and I don't mean the kind you eat. I smile in what I hope is a sultry way, not that could tell the difference between that and a normal smile anymore.
Just as I am about to go into my "happy place", so I can through the rest of this set, he comes in. This is the fourth time I have seen him in here, and he looks about the same as he did the last two times.
His eyes lock onto mine and I feel ashamed about what I am doing for the first time ever. His eyes don't have lust I am used to seeing when I look at a man. Instead, they are full of sadness. Suddenly I don't want him looking at my body, don't want him to see me like this, because I know he disapproves.
I look away and don't look at him again. I finish the show trying to appear more dignified than I feel at that moment. After it finishes I rush backstage to hide in the dressing room. He comes in to talk to me. There's no one else in here and so we are alone.
Without preamble he asks me a question. "Would you like to have breakfast with me?"
I can't think and just stare at him in wonder. That was definitely not what I had expected to come out of his mouth. I stare at him for so long, baffled at his question, that he probably takes it as a no and turns to go away.
"Wait, I didn't give you my answer." His eyes seem to fill with hope again. "I'd love to have breakfast with you."
A smile fill his face and I can't help but notice how handsome he is… and he seems interested in me.
"When do you get off?" He asks.
"Now if I want." I smile back at him.
We exit together and as we reach the car a thought crosses my mind. I stop before we go any further. "I don't even know your name."
"Gilbert Grissom, but you can call me Gil."
"Catherine Willows, most just call me Cath though."
"Catherine it is."
'No,' I think, "he is most definitely NOT like most.'
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AN: Please leave a review and tell me what you thought. If you found any mistakes, please also tell me as I haven't put this through a BETA.