A/N: Another story. I am having a brain fart on "A Walk He'll Remember" and I need to go with this original weird story idea I just popped out of nowhere for a little bit. "Sometimes you just need to work on another story to be able to work on the one before." This is basically some sort of crack fic that I told myself I would never do. But the idea is so funny.

Oh and the story is going to alternate different POV's. First up. Sora.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Heats or its characters. Also I have never been to a strip/dance club or been a stripper/dancer. Even though I could go to one, I will not. So this is done out of imagination. I also do not own a strip joint or want to for that matter. I also do not own the song title that is used for my title.

But It's Better If You Do

She really did that? She suggested such a vulgar form of work to me? I know we need the money but seriously, how could she sell her own son out to be a "professional dancer". I don't want to be like her. I can't say no. And I didn't. I peered up at her, my mother's own two brown eyes beaming with uncertainty and guilt that seemed to be choking her slowly. It isn't my mother's fault. She's doing the best she can. It's not my mother's fault that my father decided to start shooting up heroine, cheated on her with another woman that seemed to have a lot more to offer, then left her out in the rain like a wet dog. My mother had no choice but to start taking lessons and learning new ways to please men. He made her that way. And I wanted to do all that I could to be a better man. I hate my dad more than I can even put into words. I couldn't even write a while thousand page novel on how deeply I hate him. And now he's put my mom in the hole for money and I am being forced to help out with that too.

Dancing, of course, isn't a very good place to start I think. I could see that she started to cry silently. She was always one to go and hide her tears by sucking up just a little more of her martini. I watched the small olive float back and forth in her glass as she moved it counter-clockwise.

This was such a struggle for the both of us.

"Alright mom." She had explained to me before that she doesn't sleep with the men... in the club that was. She also tried to explain that what she did is a form of art and made really good money that she can provide everything that we needed in that long week. She would bring home plenty of tip money every other night. One problem. The money seems to keep disappearing. Now I would never accuse my mother of doing any form of drugs, but let's just say she doesn't hang out with the greatest of people. She smiled at me and took another small sip.

"Thanks, honey. Really. You have no idea how much this will help us. Sora, I don't mean to do this to yo--"

"Mom. Please." She was apologizing over and over. So much that it hurt me to listen to her cracking voice. Don't get me wrong, my mother does NOT come off as a stripper. She dresses nicely and not at all like your typical stripper. She's a very casual woman, her brown hair always up in a pony tail or bun with her bangs curled. She's always wearing her nice sleeved shirts where the sleeves stop at her elbows, and a nice pair of jeans. Occasionally she'll throw on some jewelry to accommodate her outfit. I always like to dress in a nice baggy t-shirt with some sort of design on it and my skinny jeans. Though, if I am going to be a dancer, that is not what I'll be wearing. She then continued to explain that one of her co-workers has a girl about my age that dances too. I cocked a brow and tilted my head to the side, only in awe that this seemed to be common. Maybe it would be okay. Her daughter was still alive. I'll have to talk to her and make friends with her.

I dared not to ask my mom when I started, but did anyway.

"When do I start?"

I said it plain and simple. I watched as she stopped sipping her drink and met her eyes with my own. I could tell she felt sick to her stomach. Her lips parted slightly and all that came out was her own breath. I could see in her eyes the struggle that she was having within. It also never occurred to me that I have school tomorrow morning. And the morning after this. I knew I would have to juggle both my academic life along with my new job. I would make this work. I would tell myself that this would work. I sat myself down on the flower-printed couch, waiting to hear the answer, now playing with my spiked locks of hair. My mom slowly sat down next to me and ran her slender, polished fingers into my brown hair, throwing her free arm around my shoulders.

"You start tomorrow night, honey."

Wow. Much sooner than I thought that it was. But hey, it was a job and my mom needed the money. There was no way I would tell anyone at school tomorrow. Or ever for that matter. I would keep it to myself. Forever. Bring it all to the grave with me. Everyone and everything that came within my dancing path. Oh man. Dancing. I don't know how to do something like that. I shoke my head and flashed my mother a smile. That was something that I would not worry about right now. There were bigger problems. My mom. I wanted her to be okay with everything. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a really tight squeeze. I could feel her tense and then relax as she put both her arms around me in turn. I could feel her soft lips kiss my cheek and then go to my ear, her voice so soft and sweet.

"They all are going to look out for you. No one is going to be turning a blind eye to it. All these people are really nice, honey."

I could see the relief that played on her face, though I was sure somewhere deep down, it wasn't. I felt her pull away and I did the same. I flashed my pearly whites one more time. It's okay mom. I dragged myself up from the couch and stretched my arms above my head. I could feel myself get dizzy and I tried my hardest not to fall over. I was surprised at myself that I was not freaking out and I didn't think much of it at all. I brushed it off one more time. I'd think about it later when I went to sleep. My mother put on her fake smile and let her hair down. She walked herself over to the kitchen and pulled out a pot from underneath the cabinet. Ah yes, those clanking pots were giving me the start of my nightly headache. Dancing. Teasing. Under-age dancing and teasing. Over-aged men and women. Dance. Tease. Tips. Repeat. I found myself clutching at the bottom of my shirt, then shot my glance over to my mom. Ah yes, there we go. She was starting to make dinner. I had to distract my thoughts.

"Mom, can I help you cook?"

"Sure sweetie."

I shuffled over to the tile end of the kitchen and hopped up, now sitting, onto the marble counter-top, now helping mom cut up the peppers that she began to do so herself. "What are we having?" She stopped a moment, handing me the rest of the peppers. "Stir fry." And if this is it, it is the only time I felt close to my mother. Don't get me wrong. I love my mother like no one else. I just don't see her as a mother figure. More as a 'work-a-holic'.

I would become one too I would think.

~*~

I found myself laying there in bed. Full. Not full from the dinner, but full of thoughts. And it began. What would it be like? Would it become addicting like it has for my mother? She always jumps to those phone calls and opening at different places. Ah, but no jobs. She is simply a house dancer. She works for Destiny Island's "Kingdom Come" and only them. I could feel my heart pound. I'd have to come up with a name huh? My mom's name is Sarah Rose. Simple. All I'd have to do is change my full name. What would it be? I don't want to be anything like Sora Cin-a-Bon. Or Sora Sugar-bush. I'll come up with something.

But for now all I need is sleep. I'll just shut my eyes and sleep.

Tomorrow. I work.

I'll need all the sleep I can get.

I can get through this.

A/N: Ah yeah. Hahah what am I thinking? It's gonna get so good. I hope to get the chapters longer soon. This is just a slight introduction.