A/N hey you guys! I'm back with another one. This is one of the 5 stories I had thought up that I want to work on after I finish some of the stories I'm doing now. I couldn't take this anymore! I just had to get this out to see if anyone would actually like it. It might actually be a while before I get back to this, that is if anyone likes it or not…yeah here's the first chapter. I might put up the next chapter too. Enjoy it I guess.

Disclaimer: Y U NO KNOW I NO OWN BTR? BTR isn't mine and neither is the wonderful unofficial 5th member Dustin Belt.

Chapter 1

(Hey, You Good?)

*Main Girl's POV*

"What can I say? I love my job to pieces…the hours are fine, I'm not overworked and I'm pretty popular with our customers! I've made really great friends here with the other staff, and they treat me just like I think any normal family would…well except for my fucking boss. God, whenever that ass comes around, he can be a real pain in the ass…literally." I sigh and adjust the hat on my head. "I'm pretty sure my sure my life at the moment is pretty good. I mean I'm not filthy stinking rich but I'm not living on the streets, luckily. I think I'm sort of in just the right place. Well, just enough to pay my half of the rent. I live with one of my co-workers. That's what I meant by my half of the rent. Abbie? Yeah we've got a decent place herein Hollywood. I'm actually from San Diego, I just moved here a few years ago under…unfortunate circumstances." I see the auburn haired girl in my peripherals. I point to her.

"That's actually her over there. Red hair, brown eyes, talking to that blonde dude over there, but yeah. She's pretty cool I guess. She sometimes gives me these looks and other shit whenever one of her customers or even her boyfriend talks to me. I have no idea what that girls problem is…" I sigh and place my hands on my hips. I pick up the discarded cup I had been cleaning and use my rag to start drying it back out.

"Um, I just wanted to know what your name was, not your life story cupcake." The 27-30ish year old man in front of me says. This guy reminds me a lot of a Ken doll. Blonde hair, tanish face, dimples, and blue eyes. He seemed nice enough I guess, but it could be a front. Most of the people I meet here are just trying to get into my pants. Yeh, not going to happen anytime soon, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go all bitch-a-saurus on him. I shake myself out of my thoughts and flash a smile to him.

"Oh yeah…my name. Is that really what we were talking about at first? Hmm. Shocker." I say, I put the cup in the spot where I was trained to put all of the cups, and then I rest my hands on the table. He takes my hands in his own and flashes me a wolfy grin.

"So how about that name?" he asks while running the pads of his thumbs over my knuckles. Um, gross. I don't know this man; I don't like him, and some nerve he's got. Dudes got balls; I'll give it to him. And as much as I want to pull my hands away and punch this son of a bitch in the jaw for being so fucking bold with me, I don't. I just don't have enough energy in me, and I really don't want to be confronted by boss man tonight. I just want to go home.

"Heyo Johno!" the Ken guy turns around as I guess that's his name being called. 'Johno' or whatever his name is rolls his eyes and let's go of my hands. As the other dude around his age walks over to us, I wipe my hands off on my jeans and scowl a little to myself. The guys who called Ke- erm I mean Johno's name comes over and puts his hand on Johno's shoulder. He leans down to whisper into Johno's ear, but apparently this guy is a really bad whisperer."Johno man, I don't think your wife would like it if she knew you were flirting with some girl…especially not fucking around with a teenage bartender. Let's go back before you get arrested for child molestation." He stands back up all the way. Then the jackass has the nerve to wink and smile at me. I smile sarcastically back to him.

Bastard.

I wonder if he knows I heard every word he 'whispered' inconsiderate twat apple. Yeah I said twat apple! And this Johno dude is no better. A wife? His cunt cake ass.

Johno and his friend stand up from his seat and start to make their way out of the establishment with a wave. I sigh and wave back half heartedly. I rest my elbows on the bar and place my hands in between them. I blow a raspberry and look to the stage to see Kenya on stage performing and dancing, just doing her thing. I look at the digital clock on the wall next to me. It's blinking purple lights read 1:15am. I groan and let my head fall and hit the bar.

"Why does it feel so early?" I mumble to no one in particular with my head still down. But I failed to hear Abbie making her way over to me. She bangs her hands on the bar area in front of me and I let out a small noise of surprise. I shoot up into a standing straight position. I fix the fedora on my head as I frown at her.

"Joe says that I'm supposed to remind you that you are up on stage soon." I roll my eyes and wave my hand in the air dismissively.

"Whatever. Tell him to shove a stick up his pompous ass and sit in a pile of coals." I grumble out. She winks at me.

"Gotcha! Hey Joe! Your little star says she loves you too, and that she wants to have your future babies!" she shouts as she walks away. I scowl and glare at her retreating form.

"Bitch…I fucking hate my friends." I say aloud to myself. Once again.

"Tell me about it." I hear someone say from next to me. I realize some dude had taken a seat in a bar stool opposite me. "Can I get a water?" he asks. I nod and grab a bottle of water from under the counter.

"Want a cup?" I ask the guys. He nods. I reach under the bar again and pull out a cup. I place three ice cubes in it and hand it to the guy. "So what's your deal guy?" I ask while leaning on the bar with one arm. He shrugs and juts out his bottom lip. He runs his finger up and down the outside of the bottle, very depressingly might I add. "Oh I hate to see a grown man depressed. What's wrong?" I ask. "You can talk to me, I've a very trustworthy person." I tell him with an extra cheeky smile. I add in some encouraging hand movements to see if I can get the guy to smile or something. He stops the tracing and looks up at me. I make a little happy noise. He chuckles a little and puts his bottle down.

"I'm not a grown man. I'm only 21," he starts.

"Is that really the only thing you heard me say?" I ask with a smirk. He rolls his eyes playfully. "But I wouldn't have known. You really look like you could be anywhere from 16 to like…I don't know 30 to tell you the truth." I admit. He laughs. He turns his bar stool around so that he's fully facing the bar and not halfway anymore. I pull up a little chair from behind it and sit down in front of him.

"Really?" he asks. I just nod enthusiastically in response. "And how old are you? Aren't you like fucking 12? You look way too young to be working a bar like this. You have plastic surgery or something?" he asks. I scrunch up my nose and smile.

"I'm 20. Technically 20 and eleven twelfths. I'll be 21 next month…November," I state. "Everyone I meet always think I'm like 14, 15, or 16. I just don't get it." I say in exasperation.

"Hey yo bartender! Refill over here!" some random dude yells. I roll my eyes and stand up.

"I'm comin nigga!" I shout. I cover my mouth immediately afterwards. I spare a glance at the brunette guy in front of me. He was sitting there with one eyebrow cocked and a laugh tumbling from his mouth. Shit, I need to stop watching White Chicks so often. Their language is rubbing off on me. I blush and give the brunette that one minute gesture as I make my way to the patron. And refill his vodka shot.

I walk back over to the guy I had been talking to.

"So, you didn't answer my question yet. Why did you come in here all depressed a few measly minutes ago." I ask him.

"Oh yeah that," he starts. I see his face start to fall again. He blows out a puff of air."Well me and my girlfriend kind of broke up a week ago. She said it was over the stress of having to do with me moving around, and having to work so often. She claims I didn't spend enough time on her…and she did it over Twitter." He says and throws his arms into the air in exasperation.

"Twitter?" I ask in shock.

"Twitter!" he exclaims.

"That bitch…" I mumble. He takes a deep breath and continues on.

"And now my ass holes of friends decided to bring me here to Ecstasty thinking that strippers would make me feel better about it. It's not really working as you can see." He says. He groans and runs a hand through his dark brown hair.

"You really liked her…this girl, didn't you?" I ask him completely seriously curious.

"Yeah, I actually knew her for like 2 years, I…I think that I loved her." He says. I bite my lip in thought.

"Well…erm…uh, I still don't know your name guy." I say. He brightens a little and smiles fully. He puts out his hand and I take it.

"My name is James. James Maslow." He says. I smile and shake his hand.

"Well James Maslow, you ex girlfriend must have been a real dumb blonde to dump you. You seem like a really sweet guy…And dude your name sounds really familiar, but I'm too tired to think at the moment. I'm Roxanne by the way. Miles Roxanne, but you can just call me Miles." I say.

"Miles it's nice to officially meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine James." I say. I scope the club for a moment before bringing my focus back to James. "So, you say your friends brought you here. Am I right?" I ask. He nods and opens up his previously discarded bottle of water.

"Yeah, that's one of them right there." he points to a tall blonde who from far away sort of reminds me of Johno the Ken doll guy. "That's Kendall." He says. I start to choke and cough on my spit.

"Whoa, whoa. Did you say Kendall or Ken doll" I ask. He raises one eyebrow.

"Ken…dall?" he says hesitantly. I scrunch up my face as the offending blonde makes his way over to us. He pats James on the back.

"Hey there buddy. I see you met a new girl eh?" James groans and Kendall looks up me. He holds out his hand. I shake it. "I'm Kendall." He says with a smile.

"Miles. So you're one of the assholes who brought little James here after a bad break-up." His bushy eyebrows shoot up. I put my arms up in surrender. "Sorry, his words not mine." I say innocently.

"Oh my god…" James mumbles. I laugh.

"So you a bartender here?" He asks.

"Yeah, for about 2 years now." I say.

"Whoa, how old are you?"

"20, but I'll be 21 next month."

"Really? My birthdays next month too!"

"Seriously? Cool!"

"Okay Kendall maybe you should go away now." James says. I smile as Kendall's eyes widen.

"Oh, okay. Sorry, I'll let you two crazy kids talk." Kendall gives James a thumbs up and then walks away. James mumbles something incoherent from his seat.

"Well…that was interesting." I say. James face palms.

"I'm so sorry about him. He's the youngest of all of us, and I'm pretty sure he was dropped on his head as a baby or something."

"James! James! Calm down its okay!" I say laughing. The poor guy looked like he was about to die of embarrassment. "Don't worry; I know you don't want to be in a relationship right now, because you're emotionally unavailable. Mutual thoughts here bro. I don't want to go out with you…erm no offense." I say with my arms out in front of me. He shrugs.

"None taken."

"Yeah, I'm sort of in a, as Facebook would say," cue air quotes, "'its complicated relationship' at the moment." I say with a closed lip smile. He starts to laugh whole heartedly.

"So…friends then?" he asks with a grin.

"Yeah, hey gimme your phone right quick." I instruct. He pulls out his iPhone4s and I take it. I program my phone number into the device; send a quick text to mine from his. "Here ya go." I say.

"Miles-" James starts.

"SIMONE!" someone yells. I turn my head to see Abbie running up to me. God, I hate it when she calls me by my middle name. "Bar shifts over. Joe wants you on stage in 15." She says. I sigh and take off my gray fedora.

"I'll text you later James." I say. I climb over the bar and land on the ground next to James. He waves as I start to walk off.

"See you later!" he shouts. I walk behind the velvet curtains that separate's backstage from the main area. I pass a couple of the girls I've met here, over the years and send around a couple of waves.

"Miles get into costume, you're on in 10!" one of my friends, Nike, says. Everyone calls her Nike, I have no idea why. I nod to her in acknowledgement and head to wardrobe. I take off my black Ecstasty shirt and slide out of my jeans. I take off my gray converse and my bra and underwear. I grab my gold sequined thong, matching skirt, and strapless bra. I slide into a halter top that goes with it. I put my feet into the also matching stilettos.

I totter over to the make-up counter and start to cake up the make-up. Just the way I was trained.

Once I'm done with my blush I hear them giving my announcement over the speakers for the 2nd time today.

"Welcome to Ecstasty! Your Hollywood strip club where you can watch some of Sunset Boulevard's sexiest individuals getting down and dirty right here before your very eyes. Tonight, after popular request we have one of your favorites. Dressed as a crime fighting diva from the 80's this young girl is out for justice, and mercy isn't in the handbook. Ms. Roxanne Miles!"

I take a deep breath stand up from my seat and walk out to the blinding lights of the stage. I squint as the lights hit me head on.

Smile.

Smirk.

Wink.

Seductress walk.

I chant the mantra engraved in my head as I ignore the bright lights. I hear my name being chanted, called, whistles, cat calls, and I feel that rush. That rush I get that reminds me why I love doing what I do. I know it's not what some find as a decent living, but like I said before I love my job. I strut to the pole situated in the middle of the walkway confidently. I wink at a few of the guys in the front and lick my lips, pulling them into the game. Money thrown on stage. Ones, fives, tens, twenties, and by the high rollers, Benjamin's. I grab onto the cold metal pole in my left hand and walk in a few circles around it.

I catch sight of James starring up at the stage in shock. I notice 4 other guys surrounding him, in their own conversations, but he seems completely focused on the stage. I give him an apologetic smile and shrug, and proceed with my job.

I'm Miles, and I'm a stripper and part time bar tender at Ecstasty night club. This is my story, and how I befriended James David Maslow.

A/N well did you like it or not? I had a lot of ideas in mind with this but I just wanted to get this out there. Please review and tell me if this is a keeper or not. I may not update this quickly because I already have up to chapter three setup and written. So feedback? And yeah I don't know much about strip clubs and stripping…so don't judge me!

~Love,

I'm Adorkable~