-1Authoress- Irreversible Mistake-xx

Title: Twisted Elegance

Rating: T

Summary-

Life from her nineteenth birthday has been different. A stripper, life full of drugs and pain . She never stood a chance. Until he returned. Walk with her as she learns the rules of love, withdrawal and escaping her current life.

P.s., beta anyone????

Prologue

The music began, and so she strutted into the room. It was so dimly lit, the man in the room could not possibly truly appreciate the beauty that stood before him. Skin, the colour of coffee, even and soft. Her hair was brown and fell in perfectly formed waves down her back, and swayed with each seductively with every movement. Big brown eyes; they had once been perfect, but now the beauty was destroyed by the heavy make-up that lined them. Her lips were full and pouty, the lips that feel like pillows to kiss. Her whole body was taunt and thin, and despite her line of work, her chest was small. Outside of this place she was a goddess, perfect in every way. Inside of this place, her hell, she was a whore, an item to be bought, a meaningless sex object. Her body was masked by the little clothes she wore; a skin-tight leather top, cut of directly above and below her breasts, held up by two miniscule straps. Black, lycra hot pants, barely covering her ass, and thigh-high boots. The heels were so high it hurt her ankles to dance, and sometimes tears fell from her eyes, but it the dark, no-one cared.

The music was loud, as she climbed upon the raised platform, speared by a thick metal pole. Music was in her blood, she knew the exact moments, to move, to sway, to split apart her legs and drop for the gentleman's pleasure. That was how the manager always referred to customers as, gentlemen.

'Gentleman?' she often thought 'Ha, if they were such gentlemen they wouldn't be spending their time getting drunk in strip-sex clubs,' She spun and threw her head back, swaying to the pounding rhythm. The same thoughts came to her, the thoughts that always came to her as she sold her body for a third of the profit.

'How the hell did I end up her?' and the same answer came to her 'Chad'

She was eighteen, the epitome of perfection at East High. Together for 6 months, her and Troy were happy, and still in the sickly sweet era of new love. But alcohol can taint even the most perfect girls vision. Chad's house was only small, two bedrooms and a tiny lounge room. Still more than enough to hold a small army's worth of liquor. Gabriella was too pretty, too pristine to drink, but even she could forget the cardinal rule for parties; never, ever accept a drink from someone you don't know. A single glass of spiked cola, and she was buzzed. Troy, ever the gentlemen, had been sat in the room, being hit on by half the girls, and avoided all alcohol. Gabriella walked over. As she got nearer, someone's leg flew out in a fit of dance passion, sending her tumbling into Troy's lap, letting out a tipsy giggle. Eyeing her up and down, Troy assumed she was more drunk than she was, condemning her to a bed upstairs to sleep it off.

Chad grew up in a place where alcohol was easily accessible, and tonight was no different. Lectures from Troy about scholarships often followed his bouts of drinking, but tonight, he had been fortunate enough to avoid him. Staggering upstairs to his bedroom, he found a girl lying his bed. He walked over, and in his state, didn't notice her to be the girlfriend of his best friend of seven years. He planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. Come on, he was a male, and they're was a girl lying in his bed? What would you do?

The story from here is simple. She was at a party. She got drunk. She kissed him. Troy found out and broke up with her. Her circle of perfection broken, she fell into a cycle of sleepless nights and casual sex. She took her first hit on her nineteenth birthday, the night she first slept with a man for money.

So she ended up here, having grew into her body and become the woman she was today. She left school, untrusting and alone. Her drugs the only thing keeping her alive. Each time she threw her shirt off, she earned herself a bag, and for that she was proud. The music stopped suddenly, her cue to start getting close to her 'gentleman.' Eyes narrowed in a domineering way, she walked over to them, hip swaying gently.

"Hey," she purred, her voice unnaturally low and seducing.

The guy laughed nervously. She pressed a finger to his lips and without warning, pulled the straps on her shirt, letting it fall away from the body and releasing her breast's for the viewing pleasure. She climbed atop the man, legs spread and put her hands on his face, then pulled them back, ruffling his hair. This body felt so close, so known, but they all did. All inhibitions gone with the half-joint she had before arriving, she threw her head back and yelled. No words, just noises of pleasure she knew would make him happy. Climbing off him, she knelt at his knee's and pushed his legs apart, rummaging for his zipper. He pulled back, and she looked up with the look of a small, candy-less child in her eyes. A sharp intake of his breath, as her hand, still on his zipper, felt a definite push.

"I..I don't know if I want this?" he gasped, shaking slightly.

"You're at a sex club. What were you expecting, tea and scones?" she said, sarcastically, getting up, grabbing her shirt and walking away. Her heels clicked with every step. "Whatever, I still get paid whether you want it or not."

"No wait! I meant…" The girl stopped sharply, eyes popping open. That voice. The hair she had ran her hands through. The dark blue leather wallet he'd been slipping dollar's into her shorts from. She turned slowly to face him.

"Troy?" The false lust in her voice was gone, her true, quiet voice seeping through.

"Gabriella?"

Silence.