Red Light Deux

Disclaimer: Don't own Victorious

A/N: This is, in a way a continuation of an old story "Red Light". You don't have to know or even follow "Red Light" to get this. I'll have momentary flashbacks where important. I want to do it in Sam's perspective primarily because it'll be the counselor's perspective that will bring further intrigue, rather than Trina's perspective. Doing it in the client would make the story similar to the other. Do read.

A/N: This is more descriptive to give you an idea of where this will head once it kicks off


Chapter 2 (To Live a Nightmare)

Sam tapped her fingers gently on the leather steering wheel of her car, studying the dark road before her. She was parked at the curb beside a cracked building with a steel door. The only source of light came from a dim lit lamp hanging above the door.

Her stomach churned violently when she heard music being played from a nearby radio. Her eyes moved to the rearview mirror and studied a man leaning loosely against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. This man was playing a song from Porcelain and the Tramps, a band which she hated more than any other musician she had to suffer through. It was due to the flashback-inducing songs they had which reminded her of a time she could never truly forget.

After closing the windows of her car, Sam leaned back and shifted her gaze onto the steel door. There were several dents as well as tiny holes that resembled bullet holes. Her heart sank as she thought about this girl and what she would say to her.

"I don't know if she wants help." Sam struck the record button on her handheld recorder, it was crucial for notes. She took a deep breath and scrunched her forehead. "Her family situation is a lot like mine, based on what Cat tells me, it's going to be difficult not to put some personal feelings on this-but I think that's going to be a driving factor in helping this girl."

It was one thing that Trina's father was also a very high profile police officer like her own dad, but the issue here was that it sounded like the man didn't care about his eldest daughter. Her own father did care about her, but it had been hard for her to see it. "I cannot scare her away from help, but I cannot force it the subject."

She was well aware of how it would feel for someone to just start talking about the dangers of the lifestyle she was in. Immediately it could close a window. It could be good to introduce her as a roommate and friend of Cat's, but she didn't know exactly how good the relationship the girl had with her.

The car began to vibrate with startling sensation so she turned her head only to see the man turning up the volume on his radio. "I'll show you what it means to control you. Cause I'm the fucking King of the World!" Bile rose in her throat as the image of a stranger hovering over her shot through her. She put her fingers to her forehead and shook her head.

With every tap of the man's foot and every bounce of his head, Sam's body would tense. Her eyebrows curved down in the middle and her teeth clenched. Her fingers grasped the handle of the door and started to push it open, which caused the music to blast fully in her ears.

The song shifted to the band's Red Light District and her heart pulsed a flash of adrenaline and venom into her blood. She clicked off the recorder and marched towards the man, keeping her fiery glare on him.

He turned his eyes up to her and smiled. "Hello. Can I help you with something?" She grabbed the cord to the radio and ripped it from the outside outlet. The man's eyes widened as she grabbed the radio. "Hey! I was listening to that."

"Now you're not." The man threw his hands up and took a step back. Her nostrils flared and her chest expanded slowly, then fell. Each slow breath calmed and relaxed her nerves. She set the radio down on the ground and dropped the cord. "Sorry. Not my call, just…try not to blast it please? I'm waiting on someone. That band is very unsettling to hear."

The man chuckled softly and grabbed his radio. "Right." She watched as he walked away, muttering under his breath. Sam scratched the left side of her head and cringed at the smoky texture.

In the distance she saw another street worker standing beneath a lamp post. Her lips pressed together and her eyes softened. There were so many people that judged these people harshly, it broke her heart to see the poor treatment.

There wasn't much in the world she had compassion for, that was something that remained somewhat similar to her younger days. Her aggressive nature had gone down tremendously, but to the majority of people she still was hardened. The ones that did see most of her compassion, aside from those closest, were these workers.

It was known she couldn't save them all, and not every one of them wanted help, but at the very least it was possible to work with those that would.

Sam turned away with a wistful sigh and started for her car. The sound of a latch clicking stopped her in her tracks. She watched with wide eyes as the skinhead man opened the steel door and walked out. His muscular frame and bald head was lit by the lamp light glinting off the pools of sweat building on his slimy figure.

He was wearing pants with his shirt tied in the belt. His hand clutched a piece of rubber with white fluid dripping from it. Sam's stomach clenched and a painful ache spread across her chest as she watched the man slink towards his car while dropping the condom down into a gutter.

She put her hand to her stomach and felt her body shiver. "Jesus. Push through it." Her teeth clenched and her nostrils spread out to release a large breath. Her eyebrows lifted when she saw Trina walking out and counting a large sum of money in her hands.

A lump formed in her throat as she recalled the first statement told to her by someone after her very first time. Spoken with sharp snide, someone asked if it was worth it. She pushed the terrible memory from her mind and stepped forward, nearly bumping into Trina.

The girl lifted her head and stepped back, her eyes grew large and her mouth hung open. Her red lipstick was smudged and greasy, her hair was a mess and her clothes had been cut. The panties she wore were had a long gash that the girl made no attempt to cover. "I'm sorry," Trina stated, "I wasn't looking."

"It's okay." The first person that ran into her knew she'd been from iCarly and pointed it out. She was terrified of that recognition and didn't want this girl to feel the same way. "Strange part of town this is, huh?"

"Strange?" Trina moved her hair over her shoulder and shrugged. "I'm used to it." Studying the woman's eyes, she could see no emotion towards the subject. Yet there was a tiny glint of sadness amid all the darkness. How long had she been in this life? "You're not a worker are you? You don't look like someone that should be around here…"

"Used to be, but I'm not in the life anymore." Trina's eyebrows closed in and she glanced down at the money. The girl's father was a police chief. Money certainly was no object. However a worker in the sex industry didn't always work for money. This was mental, psychological, and Sam could see the same look in the girl's eyes that connected them. "I was more into videos, though…" Her voice broke and she silenced herself abruptly.

Trina's gaze shot back to her and she curved the corner of her lip up a slight amount. "I've done one or two videos but I don't know if I like it." Sam furrowed her brow and crossed her arms as Trina stuffed the money between her breasts. "Not like anyone would know who I am though, right?"

She flattened her lips and leaned back as her arms folded across her chest. "What do you mean?" Trina walked past her and waved her hand in the air.

"Well Daddy's just been promoted to a big shot position, Mom became a head nurse at the hospital and my sister's on every screen in Los Angeles despite not getting any record contracts. They're all seen more, so it's just that easy for me to do whatever. Right? I mean nobody notices what I do so nobody's going to complain, I'm in the clear."

"It could come around. Do you wonder what might happen if anyone found out?" She could better diagnose any mental or emotional disorders this way, if any existed at all. Chances were likely that Bipolar Disorder would be a given, but she wasn't going to make any diagnoses.

Trina stopped and looked over her shoulder with a frown. "I don't want my dad to be shamed, I guess. If people knew my sister had a sibling that was doing what I do, it could ruin her."

Sam smiled inwardly and moved her hands to her hips. "Maybe." It was good that the girl did appear to care. This made it all that much easier for her to be reasoned with. "I remember when I was in the industry, I didn't think my family would care."

"I could agree to that, I guess. It feels good, though."

"Does it?"

"Sure." She studied Trina's downward expression and huffed lightly. The girl did not look to be convinced of what she was saying, but then, Sam needed to choose her words carefully. "I mean yeah it feels weird doing it with different people, but there's a payout. When a guy pays attention to me, I like it, I feel…I don't know, alive?" Trina's mouth twisted and her cheekbones faltered. "Then again, there's really not much else out there for me. I could never get a boyfriend, can't go anywhere without hearing people talk about my sister or my father, so yeah this is it."

Hearing that, Sam had to assume Trina either hadn't been in this for long or she had not yet begun to feel the ramifications of sexual degradation. Each person was different, however, so there was no real way to measure just how or if Trina would ever feel like she was being degraded in any way.

Trina met her gaze and moved her hand up to her chin, sliding her thumb across with a huff. "Where have I seen you before?"

"Used to be involved with a webshow before I got into prostitution and pornography." It pained her to be open about her past, but it was through this openness that she was making a connection with Trina. Therefore she needed to do so and to push off the pain it created. "Up in Seattle."

"What brings you down here?"

"Career opportunities are better here." She shrugged and looked off to the side. "Turns out Seattle's not too happy to give jobs to former sex workers." She hated the term, but it was better than 'prosititute'.

"Well. If you're trying to get away from that life, hanging around this area won't do you much good." A weak chuckle fell from Sam's lips and she nodded gently.

"That is true." She pushed her trembling hands into her pockets to conceal them. Trina lifted her eyebrows and studied her with curiosity. "Truth is I was meeting a client-I am a counselor." The girl's lips parted and she turned around with a wry laugh.

"Good to know. I guess that'd explain why you're down in the shadier place. I'll let you know, I don't think I need any 'help'"

"I didn't think I did either until I hit rock bottom, but I'm not preaching to you, so don't worry." It may very well take for Trina what it took for her to realize she was in trouble. Sam hoped that wouldn't come because she knew how painful it was to be fully disowned by those you love.

Granted her family didn't disown her the way Carly's had. She had only been kicked out until she 'turned around'. It hurt just as much as it hurt Carly to hear Spencer say she was no sister of his.

She watched as Trina started to walk off. The girl stopped several feet away and turned around slightly. "Question." Sam inhaled slowly and felt her eyes grow moist. "What's it like at the bottom? When you hit that low, what was it like?"

"Hell." She exhaled as Trina's eyes dropped down. "Like a nightmare you can't wake from, a night you will remember as long as you live."

"Oh." Trina lifted her eyes back up and squinted before walking around the corner.

She was so much like herself, so much like Carly, Sam couldn't help but feel a fire growing inside of her. Trina may not feel like she needed help, but there was still a little of her left from what Sam could see. She needed to reach this part, and if anything, make Trina start to think about the path she was on. It was the best way to get someone to seek help, to have them realize for themselves how deadly the journey was.


So that gives you an idea where this will head, somewhat. I shall make this tasteful as possible, but also realistic as I can.