One: Routine
La Termitas was filled to the brim with alcohol and men.
Staged to look more like a night club than a striptease joint, Termitas stood on the corner of a quiet area in downtown Atlanta that could be mistaken by most folks for some sort of slum. The outside wasn't cleaned regularly. When it was, it smelled strongly of pine.
The inside was cleaner than most joints in the area. Dustin was the owner. He liked to be called Goldust. He was a stickler for making his club stand out from the rest by using the most bizarre means possible. He personally stood by while contractors rebuilt the stage to accommodate all the latest sound systems and lights. Velvet curtains and gold leaf poles on either side reminded regulars of Hollywood, though Goldust was aiming for Broadway. He used his last name to title his stage: Cross Rhodes. He found the title most fitting because it constantly reminded him of himself.
Tonight, the stage was dark. Beth was waiting just behind the curtain. She had been dancing for Goldust for almost a year, but the butterflies never really flew away.
An audience of males. Mostly alcoholics, meth-heads and ex-military. They were waiting for her routine to begin. Since shortly after Beth's arrival, the club was packed every night. She was the star attraction, though she never realized it for herself.
Cue spotlight. Some men in the audience began to holler. The surround speakers began playing, "Somewhere, Over the Rainbow." Beth appeared from behind the curtain. Men clamored to get closer to the stage.
She sang as closely to Judy Garland's original voice as possible. The Wizard of Oz was not an easy piece for Beth's quiet, softer tone, but she loved to sing it and her efforts made it believable.
Beth sang along with the rhythm of the music. The men were more interested in her honey colored skin and soft features than how well she could carry a tune. The room was thick with a tonic of sweat, must, alcohol and buffalo wings. Non-smoking signs were bolted to the walls and could be easily visible to accommodate modern health codes. These signs were often ignored.
Beth didn't mind the smell of tobacco, though. She had gotten used to it.
She made a cute face and batted her eyelashes at the crowd. Some men hollered and others tossed a few bills on stage. Beth swung her long blonde hair while contorting her body into dozens of precarious positions to scoop up her pay. The audience adored her every move. Rowan, the red-headed bouncer, kept people from rushing the stage.
Two girls appeared on stage and flanked either side of Beth. They wore baby blue see-through dresses cut off just below their thighs, entering at the moment Beth sang, "Blue birds fly..."
More reactions from the men. More bills piling up on stage. Beth let the girls pick them up this time. There was plenty to go around and Beth had already gathered her share.
She swayed to the music. The two bluebirds took each of her arms and lifted her up. The men leaned forward as far as they could see to get a glimpse up Beth's dress. Some whistled and others shouted profanities. They all thought they had gotten a good look. Beth had learned that sheer underwear was enough to give the men the perception that they were seeing something forbidden. It also gave her a sense of security should she ever fall off stage and into the crowd of hungry eyes and groping fists.
The women carried Beth across the stage. They let her down at stage right and Beth spun around in circles, then gripped one of the gold leaf poles and feigned dizziness. The men laughed and clapped and cheered for her. One voice called out from nearby, "What a spunky lil' dame!"
Beth batted her blue-green eyes and made a bashful look. The men ate it up like the hounds they were, tossing more bills on stage.
The song was nearly ending. Beth made her way to stage left by dancing and swaying and singing. A blonde woman appeared behind her wearing a black lace ensemble around the waist and green paint accentuating her bare chest. She was described by one patron as, "A fuckable version of the bad witch from Oz."
He added with a wry grin, "I'd let her take my lil' dog any day."
A quick flick of the older woman's wrist and Beth's top came down. The men roared when they finally saw her chest after a few minutes' wait. Beth gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth. She widened her eyes with a look of shock. Pretending the finale was a wardrobe malfunction brought more money than a paint-by-numbers routine.
Money flooded the stage. Beth bowed to scoop them up. The bluebirds and the witch reached for their share and ignored the demands for lap dances and encores until they had gathered all of their tips.
The men called for Beth by her stage name, "Ruby!"
Beth smiled and waved and tried her best to look as grateful as possible. It was the end of the night and she was exhausted, but she never showed it. Beth could feel the cold stare of the wicked witch as she exited stage left. The men booed and called for her return. If any of them noticed the wicked witch staring Beth down, probably assumed it was part of the show.
The backstage part of La Termitas felt like a second home to Beth. It was decorated with expensive satin curtains and vintage vanities filled with modern makeup. There was even a costume area next to Goldust's office where he sewed together his latest ideas and where he took his boyfriends for quickies during the day.
For a cowgirl from a small town like Beth, the place resembled a high-end studio reserved for the best dancers. Goldust spared no expense to make his girls happy. Lower rates of turnover meant more money coming back to him in the long run.
Beth took her place at her usual vanity across the room. It was stationed near the basement stairs, an area blocked off by a large velvet curtain. Beth liked this spot because the light breeze from the basement kept her vanity cooler than most. She also liked to be able to see the other women as they entered the room.
The two bluebirds came along just after Beth, taking their respective vanities. The wicked witch came last, taking her place at the vanity across from Beth's. The bluebirds chattered away while they removed their makeup and counted their earnings. The wicked witch reflected in Beth's vanity mirror as a mute figure of indifference who counted her own earnings with the steadiness of a veteran stripper who had learned that mistakes in her totals meant being vulnerable to co-workers who would sooner pick her pockets than let her have all she thought she deserved.
"Wonderful, ladies! Utterly prodigious!" Goldust burst through the curtains with the grace of a prestigious dancing instructor.
Beth was wiping her makeup away at her vanity. Goldust ignored the other girls in the room and made his way toward her. He put his feminine hands on her shoulders and pressed a quick peck on her cheek. His boyish features gazed at her reflection in the mirror as he gave her shoulders a squeeze with more brawn than his delicate fingers appeared to have.
"My muse! My protege! My mockingbird! You were gorgeous tonight, as you are every night!" Goldust sang his praises at her.
Beth felt her cheeks flush despite knowing that Goldust had taken something and wouldn't remember what he said to her by morning light.
He reached down and took a handful of Beth's earnings. His pearly white teeth glowed at her even as he slipped his cut of her earnings into his Japanese-themed silk vest. Beth smiled back at him, considering herself lucky that Goldust was a complete flamer and wanted nothing more from her than cash. He usually only took what he needed to feed his addictions and he allowed Beth to sing to her heart's content. Though he sometimes resembled a serial killer, he was generally a good and decent man.
"So beautiful! So beautiful, all of you!" Goldust sang before leaving to his office and closing the door.
The bluebirds dressed themselves and headed out to the hallway which led to the main exit. Beth found herself alone with the blonde wicked witch character who sat across from her. Beth felt her stomach tighten into knots. She didn't like being alone with Charlotte.
"It won't last, you know," Charlotte called over her shoulder.
Charlotte's reflection in Beth's mirror betrayed nothing but a cold, statue-like expression that only came from women who found being sadistic more to their liking. Beth watched through the mirror as Charlotte rose up from her seat and came over to place a pair of dry hands on Beth's bare shoulders. Charlotte's long dark hair brushed across Beth's right cheek. It felt dry and smelled faintly of roses.
"I was just like you, once. In a few years, you'll be just like me. You'll be dancing with your bottoms on to hide the C-Scar."
Charlotte searched Beth's reflection for a reaction. Beth refused to let her find it.
"You'll see," Charlotte chuckled, pushing unnecessarily hard against Beth's shoulders to straighten herself before leaving the room.
Beth waited a long while until she was sure Charlotte had left the building. Beth took her bag and left the quiet back room. She didn't bother to check Goldust's office to see if he had been listening the whole time.
One of the bluebirds, Bayley, was waiting by the exit to say good-bye to Beth. They hugged one another and Bayley let out an airy laugh. They had grown on each other over the past year and Bayley was one of the few women Beth felt could be trusted.
"Go home and get a good night's rest!" Bayley waved happily in Beth's direction when they parted ways, outside.
"I'll try," Beth called back to her.
Bayley yelled enthusiastically, "Does that mean your boy's makin' a move, tonight?"
She was referring to Beth's roommate. Bayley had been waiting for details of a hookup for months. Beth had yet to share so much as a kiss.
"Maybe," Beth shrugged.
"If he don't, I know a lonely guy named Chris Jericho who'll play with you!" Bayley cackled at her own joke.
Beth turned back to roll her eyes and Bayley laughed once more before she disappeared somewhere in the parking lot behind the building. It was three in the morning. The humid Southern air choked Beth's lungs and burned her cheeks. She walked with her gaze a good distance ahead of her to make sure a man didn't decided to stick around after the show.
She had been through her fair share of drunks and lonely veterans looking for a good time. Politely turning them down and lying that she had a boyfriend usually worked. She was aware of the violence that came with her job. So far, nothing too horrible had happened. Beth was grateful for that, but she still kept her guard up.
There was someone waiting for her. Instinct told her it was male. He was leaning against the cinder blocks of the building, a slim shadow figure contrasting against the club's color of eighties-era pastel yellow. Beth could see the bright blue dot of his e-cigarette sticking out from where the mouth would be. He was too dark to make out clothing and whatever he may have with him. A gun? A knife? More money so he could ask to take her home?
"Why're you hidin' in the shadows like that?" Beth took a chance by calling out to him.
Seth flexed his shoulder blades to push off from the wall. He stepped into the light and removed his e-cigarette. He habitually stomped it into the ground with the heel of his boot as he barked, "I'm not hidin'."
"Yeah? Well, it sure looked like you were," she teased him with a smile.
He didn't lighten up. Seth usually never did. He started walking and Beth followed him to his motorcycle. He had parked it on the empty street near the stop light. Seth didn't put on a helmet but handed Beth one of her own. Her eyes dilated a little when she saw the bright pink helmet shining so brightly against the light of the moon. Seth waited patiently for her to work the helmet's strap.
They had met by happenstance shortly after Beth started working at La Termitas. Seth's older half-brother, Randy, was working as a bouncer for the club while he taste-tested Goldust's new shipments of alcohol La Termita's grill and bar area opposite the stage. Randy also charmed most of the girls and eventually knocked one of them up. After receiving the news, Randy promptly got himself arrested and jailed to avoid responsibility for his actions.
Seth stopped by to talk to the girl Randy knocked up. Beth remembered her name was Nikki. Unlike his older brother, Seth was concerned for Nikki and offered to pay what he could to help her raise his niece or nephew. Beth watched as Seth came by daily to talk to Nikki, offering his help until Nikki just disappeared one day and left a note that she had gotten an abortion.
Beth was asked to give Seth the note. He was understandably furious, but Beth also noticed that Seth carried a strong sense of guilt about the situation, as if it were somehow his fault. Seth stood to never come back to the club, but Beth persuaded him to stick around until they could find another bouncer to replace Randy. It was only a week until they found Rowan, but Seth continued to show up like he had nothing better to do and no one else to see. He would sit at the bar and chain smoke his e-cigarettes, taking a drink from time to time, passing the hours while watching the girls with idle interest.
Seth only seemed intrigued when Beth was onstage. She noticed the way he looked at her. It didn't give her the creepy feeling that she got from most other guys. He didn't look like he was objectifying her. Despite his deeply thoughtful and sometimes completely stoic expression, his eyes as dark and smoldering as the wood of an Oregon forest on a rainy day could easily get lost somewhere deep inside of her.
They moved in together just a short while after meeting each other. It was a move that Beth didn't tell anyone in her family about except her step-sister, Lana. With a corporate job in New York City, Lana had little time to come down there in person and chew Beth out, but she made it plenty clear by phone and by text that she was not happy with Beth's decision.
Beth personally felt her decision was the right one. She knew Seth was not the kind of guy to up and leave her. He was loyal through and through. He proved that to her when he tried so hard to help Nikki. Beth learned over time that Seth was also not the kind of guy who had parties and hookups. In fact, Seth seemed to have some social anxiety and the only friend Beth knew he had never came over to their place. Seth seemed uncomfortable with flirting and Beth usually acted like his girlfriend in public so he didn't have to turn girls down. Seth responded in kind by acting like Beth's boyfriend to keep the creeps away. They were friends with a perfect system.
She sure wished they were friends with benefits.