Disclaimer: I don't own Hannah Montana.
I stared out at the empty room before me. It suddenly looked so empty. So bare. The large window on the far left wall opened up to the busy streets of Las Vegas below. Lights zoomed by, causing the room to light up with reds, greens and yellows. The plasma screen TV perched on the bare and green wall beside the window. Across from that, there was a black leather couch. On either side two dark wooden end tables sat, beside the one nearest to the window, Dexter's bed lie.
The room looked so cold and rejected as I stood by the front door about to leave for work. I squeezed my eyes shut and then quickly re-opened them. But, that same loneliness came over me again. I quickly shook my head before leaving the bitter apartment.
I could hear a baby crying as I stepped foot into the cigarette scented hallway. I slowly made my way dow the long and narrow hall to the elevators. There was an older, hefty looking man already in the elevator when I got in. He looked me up and down, then nodded towards me.
"How you doing?" he asked. I gave him a smile and replied;
"Good," When the doors opened we both got out at the lobby. I walked out to my car and then got in.
I exchanged glances with Oliver. The unnerving silence seemed to echo throughout the room. He had a gun. Jeff, drunk and pissed off has a gun. I told myself to get up. I could convince him not to do anything stupid. He's had these things happen before. Sometimes he just- loses it. I pulled Oliver's blue and white striped button up shirt over my bare boy. The sent of his cologne clung to my skin.
"Lily what the hell do you think your doing?" Oliver asked sitting up in bed.
"Oliver, he has a gun," I said looking over at him. He stayed silent. I knew that I could stop him. Jeff will listen to me.
I reached for the door knob. The cold and chipped silver handle sent goose bumps rising across my tanned arms. I threw the door open and then promptly closed it behind me. I didn't want people to know that it was Oliver sitting naked in the bedroom I was emerging from.
"You bitch," I heard coming from downstairs. No one seemed to say a word. The once loud and talkative people were silent. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong.
The base from the music still sent vibrations throughout the house. With every step I took down the cool wooden staircase, Jeff's voice became clearer.
"What you couldn't satisfy him enough, huh?" I closed my eyes as I reached the final step. I was scared to death at what I would see in the next room. The few people still standing by the stair case had horrified looks plastered on their faces. It was as if they had just stepped into their worst nightmare.
I braced myself as I peered around the corner. But nothing could prepare me for what I saw next. Jeff stood behind Miley, his left arm held a tight grip on her neck, in his right hand, he held a gun, the barrel pointed at her head.
It had been a long night. A long and tiring night. It was Sunday, which meant I was giving dances to horny business men, sad because their week in Las Vegas is almost over. Their excuses to their wives about being at some convention is almost over. They were on their way back to the white picket fence community where the only satisfaction you could get for eighty bucks was buying your wife a sexy lingerie set and praying that maybe some night you can send the kids off to grandmas and get a little alone time.
My feet ached as I threw my listless body onto the hard, cold wooden bench in the locker room. I placed my hands over my eyes. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. Thoughts of that girl, the stripper who went missing, seemed to haunt me. It was weird. It was almost as if I was jealous of her. Jealous that people cared for her and were looking for her. That she wasn't chasing after some false dream. Maybe after the torture stopped, she was happy. Maybe the person who was beating her and reaping her knew that. I shook my head. I think I'm going delusional.
"Lily?" I heard someone say. With all the strength I had left in the sluggish body I managed to sit up.
"Yea?" I called back. I saw Laura, our receptionist, emerge from the rows of lockers.
"I know that your really tired and you only have ten minutes before your shift is over but, you've got a guy requesting you in room seven, do you think you could-" I nodded, stopping her from finishing her sentence.
"Yea, not a problem," I said even though I desperately wanted to just leave and go home, curl up in bed with Dexter by my side and drift off to sleep.
"Thanks," Laura said smiling before she left. I pushed myself up, off the bench. Maybe he'll be hot, who knows. I tried to look on the bright side.
I slowly walked out onto the floor. There were about ten men tops in the whole club. The night crowd was just about over. The ugly ducklings as us hotties like to call them were beginning to arrive for the 5-9 shift. They were the girls who were more or less trashy. Basically the only customers they got were construction workers on their way to work.
Once I reached the private room I stopped to adjust my breasts in the small cupped bikini that barely managed to cover my breasts. I pulled the boy shorts I wore up a bit so the bottom part of my ass was exposed. I slowly and sensually began to peel the red, thick curtain away from the doorway.
"Hey baby," I said in my sexy voice. The lights in the room were dimmed. Disabling me to make out any features on his face. The only thing I could see was the black silhouette of his body. He looked nice and trimmed. Maybe this will be my happy ending to a horrendous night. There was no answer from him. No whistle, grunt, or lick of the lips. Nothing. I figured from his lack of response that he was a young one. Probably a stripper virgin.
"You okay," I asked as I flirtatiously took a seat beside him and placed my hand on his well toned chest. He sighed nervously and covered his face with his hand.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I traced a line with my fingers along his stomach.
"Can you please just-" He said before sliding away from me. I looked at his curiously. He still kept his hand to his face. I couldn't make out any features. His voice did sound familiar though.
"Lily-" He said. I sighed and shook my head. I knew who it was now. He slowly remove his hand from his face as I removed my own from his chest.
"Oliver?"
A/N: Sorry to end it there. I tried to go on but it just felt to long and carried on. I'm sorry for the long update & short chapter. I really hope I can get this updated before Nov. 1 because then all my stories are on hiatus until December. (you can read why in my profile if your curious)
Well, thank you for all the reviews! keep them coming!
