A/N: I know I'm still working on Symphony and I have to update the chapters, but I got this idea stuck in my head and I decided it would be better to just write this down.
I don't like taking out the trash, not really. It smells, it makes your hand feel sticky sometimes, and you have to change off your pajamas to go outside. But you have to do it, so you go outside, throw it in the trash can and then run back inside the apartment, at least that's what I do.
I'm writing, typing furiously on my laptop when I hear Puck shout from behind me for me to go take out the trash. I make a stupid joke about him being the one who should do it, since he takes out a lot of trashy girls, so he slaps the back of my head and I know that I have to go now, before he gets prissy. I put on a shirt, grab the trash bags and open the door with my elbow, shutting it with my foot and heading towards the trash cans, hoping to get back to my writing as soon as possible.
As I throw the plastic bags in the cans, I hear someone coming up behind me with light, feather-like steps. I turn around and I see her for the first time.
Brown hair, olive skin, chocolate eyes and a petite frame, she doesn't even notice I'm there, humming along to something she's listening on her iPod and swaying her hips to the song, making me run my hands on my mouth to make sure I'm not drooling. She throws her trash on the garbage can as well and finally, takes off her headphones, looking up at me with a soft gaze. She offers me a small nod and begins going through her songs, and I can't help myself, peeking from behind her shoulders and saying:
"You have a lot of classical rock there, I like it." I can't even help myself, I just say it before I realize it and I immediately begin blushing as she looks at me, her eyes wide as she examines my face, probably wondering who this creep is and why is he talking to her.
But instead of spraying something on my face, she lets out a small giggle and I find myself replaying the sound on my head, later on. She puts her headphones back on and begins walking away, looking at me from over her shoulder with a small smile, and I find endearing that her cheeks are flushed, just like my own as she stares at me for the last time, walking into the elevator.
And I don't think about anything else for the rest of the day.
xXx
Puck has been annoying me for a week now, saying that if I want to turn twenty one the way men do, I have to go through the "ritual".
For those who don't know, Noah Puckerman, also known as Puck, has been my best friend ever since we were four, when he pushed a kid off the swings because he had called my mother a "pooper"; which, if you think about now, it's stupid, but it meant a lot when a guy called your mom a pooper when you were four.
Point is, we went through a lot together: pre-school, high school and now, college. We share an apartment with Sam Evans, another friend of ours from high school, and Puck had been there for me since the beginning, through the bad stuff and the good stuff and I owed him a lot, but the "ritual"? It was too much to ask.
"Dude, stop being such a pussy!" Puck says as he pats my back one day, during lunch. "What's the matter with our plans?" He asks through a mouthful of turkey sandwich. I glance up at him and scoff at how disgusting he looks, with a small lettuce hanging from his lips.
"Shit, clean up, dude. You eat like my three year old cousin." He flips me the finger and Sam laughs, shaking his head. "The problem with the plans is that I don't want to get wasted, go to a strip club and have you guys there, taking photos of it to send them to my mother or something." I say simply.
Sam shakes his head. "Not true! We were gonna send them to your aunt, so that she could show them to your mother. Can you imagine it? It would be hilarious!" He high-fives Puck and laughs, ignoring the way I'm glaring at him.
"Listen, I'm putting my foot down, this is my final answer: I am not going to a strip club on my birthday."
xXx
They take me to a strip club on my birthday.
I drink a lot that night, six to eight beers and they even film me singing on Kurt's, my brother, karaoke machine. I'm thrown on the couch when Puck proposes, even so discreetly, that we should head to the strip club and see what happens. I'm so inebriated that I agree, throwing my hands in the air and saying "let's do it!" excitedly.
Sam is driving while Puck and I sing Don't Stop Believing in the backseat of the car while Rory laughs, filming it all on his iPhone.
"You filming that, man?" Sam asks with a chuckle and Rory nods.
"How could I not?"
We get to the club ten minutes later, Puck leading the way as he greets the security guard and apparently, he is very well known here. We enter the place and take a double look at it: it's red walls, flashing lights, naked girls and blasting music just screams sex and so we take a seat near the stage, since Puck claims he needs to get a better view of the "performers". Puck nudges me on the side and tells us that the show is about to get good.
The first one to enter the stage is a girl with dark skin, large boobs and pouty lips, and we all notice the way Sam's eyes are laying on her and nothing else. She dances to Push It, by Salt 'N Pepa and though Puck, Rory and I laugh at the song selection, Sam seems to find it sexy and he gets up from his seat, pulling a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, waving it in front of Puck's face and saying something about getting lucky, making us laugh. She finishes her performance and Sam is waiting by the stage, helping her off it and murmuring something about a private dance, so she grins and takes his head, leading him outside. We only see him the day after, when he gets home smelling like sex and booze.
The next one to disappear is Rory. He goes to the bar and orders a drink and somehow, ends up with his hands all over the bartender girl, Sugar; who, despite her name, isn't a stripper, just a regular bartender who has to wear tiny clothing for work. I can't seem to understand how, but the Sugar girl actually wants Rory to spend the night with her, so he decides to wait for her to finish her shift.
So, by now, the only ones sitting on our table are Puck and I and when a blonde girl with small breasts and green eyes comes over to him and begins rubbing her ass to his crotch, I'm done, getting up from the table and heading outside, needing to breathe some fresh air.
However, as I open the door that allows me outside, I stand before the stage, eyes wide as I see a small figure forming through the shadows. I hear the DJ speak, though I ignore it, trying to figure out the feeling of seeing this girl before.
"And now, ladies and gentlemen, our little sweetheart: the starlet of McKinley Ladies, Ray!" I can hear some men cheering, some applauding enthusiastically and I can understand why, the girl's body, at least from what I can see, is amazing. She really is the star of the place, it seems.
The small figure makes itself visual now, coming up from behind the dark part of the stage to the spotlight, holding onto a small chair and straddling it, looking down and letting her hair cover her face as she waits for the music to begin. While she does so, I examine her body and though I haven't been much of a guy to judge girls for their bodies, this one certainly gained my attention: unlike the other girls from here, she has small, perky breasts, that are covered by a lacy, black corset and matching panties, which are held in place by tight stocking that begin just above her knees and end on her feet, not to mention the delicious fuck-me heels she has on - oh, this girl is danger.
I want to tear my gaze away from her, to get out of here because I'm feeling drunk, stupid and horny and this cannot end well, but as she looks up, just in cue to her song, I grip onto the empty table next to me.
Ray, the stripper, is the girl from my building.
xXx
She dances like no one else, she looks like a pro, probably because she is, but that is not the point. She is gracious on her small feet, even though she spots those monster heels on her feet. She twirls around the chair, straddling it and throwing her head back, moving her body in sync to the song and I just want to touch her, to run my hands through the lace of her lingerie, to set her free from those stocking and have my way with her right on that stage. The alcohol is getting to me, but I don't care because I need her, I need her badly and I need her now.
She moves around the stage, swaying her hips as Big Spender by Peggy Lee plays on the background and even though she is a stripper, she looks so classy, so - and I hate my mind for thinking this - expensive.
Ray, if that's her real name, finishes her song, now in nothing but the panties and the stocking she began to dance with, her corset thrown on the stage long ago, her dark nipples contrasting with the white spotlight. She is too perfect to be here, to be on this stage. She takes a bow, the first "performer" around here to do so and leaves the stage, going to the backstage, probably getting ready to leave.
I panic, because I need to know who is this girl, what's her name, where does she live, does she really live on my building? I need answers so, in a blink of an eye, I grab a nameless waitress by the wrist softly, getting her attention. She smirks at me, battling her eyelashes as she speaks.
"What can I do for you, sugar?"
My voice is shy, low as I speak. "I need to know... How to um, how to request a private dance." I feel so dirty, disgusting, but I don't mind, because the end justifies the means, doesn't it? At least I've heard.
"Oh." She smirks even wider, as if she's staring at a freak, which I'm not. I am not a freak. "Well, you just go to that guy over there," She points at a man with crossed arms, standing by the stage with a mean look on his face. "And you tell him who you'd like to entertain you. It's really simple." She nods and walks away as I thank her.
I head towards the stage, ready to talk to the man who was pointed to me, but suddenly, I see the girl- no, the woman I've had my eye on for a while now leaving the stage, her hair tied in a high ponytail and her body wrapped by a robe. She looks beautiful, even with her clothes on.
I head towards her and touch her shoulder, but the guy who stood by the stage makes me drop my hand instantly, holding me tightly under his grip, though at least now, I have her attention. She looks at me, eyes wide and I'm sure she doesn't remember me, but feels sorry for the way the man is hurting me, so she reaches for the guy, touching his shoulder.
"Tyler, it's okay, it's just a client." She tells him and her voice is sweet like honey, and the security guard drops me from his grip, letting go of me completely. She presses her small hand to my chest and smiles.
"Are you okay?" Ray asks, pushing me away from the guard and the stage, leading us both to a dark corner of the bar.
"I'm fine, just..." I shrug, grinning softly. "I kind of wanted to ask for a... Private dance." I mutter the last part so quietly; surprised that she can hear it. She bites her lip, curling her small fingers around my index one, smiling and staring at me from beneath her lashes.
"Is this your first time here?" I simply nod, not being able to look at her in the eyes. She giggles softly and I know she isn't laughing at me, so I smile. "C'mon. I'll make it very special for you, boy." Ray says, pulling me by the hand and leading me to a room that is hidden behind curtains, so I can only assume this is what they call the "private rooms".
She leans me back on a red armchair and I look at her, eyes wide as she smirks, toying with her robe. "Any special requests?"
I gulp, trying to find the words on my brain. "Your name."
She stops, frowning. "What?"
"Your name." I repeat dumbly.
She stares at me, not sure if she's hearing things right as she runs her fingers on the knot that holds her robe together. "My name?" She seems apprehensive. "W-why would you want to know that?"
I shrug. "I've been wondering it for a while now." Ray frowns.
"A while now? I thought this was your first time here?" She asks, her hands resting on her curvy hips.
"Yeah, my first time here, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen you before." Realizing I sound like a creep, I sit up immediately, trying to cover my mistake. "I'm not a stalker or anything, if that's what it sounds like! It's just that, see, I've seen you on my building when I was taking out the trash and..."
She snaps her fingers together and I see a new brightness in her eyes. "Oh, you're the trash guy! The tall one who was giving me the eye! I remember you!" She grins softly. "Didn't take you for a strip club fan, Tall Guy."
I shake my head, the fact that she still hasn't told me her name already forgotten in my mind. "I'm not, I swear! It's my 21th birthday, so my friends decided to-"
"Wait a minute." She interrupts me, walking closer to me with wolfish eyes. "It's your birthday?" She is straddling me now; her tanned, delicious legs rest each one beside my knees as her sharp nails run up and down my chest, making him freeze.
"Yes." I mutter quietly, feeling my pants tightening at the view I get of her chest; and suddenly, I'm thinking about all these disgusting, not sexy images, trying my best to um, behave.
"Well, that asks for a special song then, Tall Guy."
"It's Finn, actually. Finn Hudson." I correct her. She nods and gets off my lap, biting her lower lip and winking at me as she gets on the small stage that rests on the center of the private room.
"Well Finn, enjoy the show." She giggles, undoing her robe slowly, letting the silky material fall of her body, laying on her feet, making her kick it away while staring at me, her chocolate eyes now way darker than before. She is wearing different lingerie now, her small body covered by a bright red bra, which appears to be made of silk; just like her panties. She has the same heels on, though, which is a plus, since they make her legs looks even longer than they are.
"Happy birthday to you," She sings sexily, twirling her hips around and throwing her head side to side, her hair falling on her face. "happy birthday to you," She gets off the stage, though now, she's crawling at me, her eyes dark and she smiles like a wolf would smile at its pray. She is kneeling between my legs, rubbing my thighs softly.
"Happy birthday," She gets up and turns around, shaking her ass at me in a way that makes me want to reach for her and squeeze it, though I can't. She turns around and leans in to let her mouth near my ear, her voice husky as she continues to sing. "Finn Hudson," Ray presses a small kiss to my earlobe, and I can feel her smirking against it.
"Happy birthday..." Her hands are running down my chest now, stopping just above the buttons of my jeans. "To you."
I can't breathe, I can't talk and if I move, I'll poke her with my... Happiness. So instead, I keep still, watching as she pulls back from me and stands before me, her hands resting on the arms of the armchair, her nails teasing the fabric.
"Did you like that, Tall Boy?" She giggles.
I nod dumbly. "Y-yeah." I gulp and it's so loud that even she heard it, giggling softly once again.
"Good. I aim to please." Ray raises an eyebrow at me, picking her robe from the floor. "Since I didn't do the whole dance, as you can see," She gestures towards her covered body before wrapping her robe around her once more. "That dance is free, I won't charge you anything." She nods her tone now so professional it scares me. It's like she's two people at once: stripper Ray and girl from my building Ray.
I watch her as she adjusts her hair in the mirrors on the wall. "Berry." She says from above her shoulder as she opens the curtains of the room.
"Rachel Berry: that's my name." She smirks and before she walks away, I ask her with a shout.
"Do you have a Facebook?"
She just laughs and that's the last time I see her in a while.
A/N: Thanks for reading! If this gets positive reactions, I think I'll continue.