Elena nearly tripped up the stairs to the club. Running late, the first time since she started working here. Hopefully the boss wouldn't say anything. Again, for two years she'd been a perfect employee. Just once shouldn't hurt. She flashed a quick smile at Beamer, Topsy's bouncer. He looked like a pile of rocks he was so built. And despite his intimidating appearance, he was a really nice guy. Elena, in her own mind, doubted that he'd hurt a fly. He was deep in the club. Beamer was passionate about it and his job. Elena remembered the day she came back for her first job. The atmosphere of the place gave her the chills and told her to get out, but Beamer walked in. He looked so stern, so mean. So big. She was the only person in the room, waiting like she'd been told by one of the girls. Beamer made himself a drink from the bar and took a seat by her, trying to make conversation, but Elena just wanted to leave. This was incredibly dumb, she thought. Her mother would kill her. But this was for her mother. She could sit by some scary guy for thirty more seconds until the boss came out.

"You're the new girl," he pointed out. "Right?" Elena gave a bit of a smile.

"Yeah. I am."

"Ah. Well, I'm Joseph," he gave her his trademark white smile. "But everyone calls me Beamer."

"Oh. I'm Elena. But I guess I'm Marie here, according to the boss lady."

"Hey. Primp up that pretty hair all big and you might pass as a Marie," he chuckled. "You never danced before, have you? I can tell. You got that anxious look on your face."

"Well...yeah. I need the cash, you know?" She shrugged.

"It's a job. Ain't a sin. At least in my book. If you got it, flaunt it." He laughed and downed his drink, an amount Elena thought would hinder a normal size person. But Beamer? It probably wouldn't phase him.

"Just know you don't have to worry about nothing, Miss Elena. I'm not going to let anything happen to any of you girls. You're all friends of mine, and I don't plan on any sticky-handed bastard bothering a one of you." And despite barely knowing this guy, Elena felt a little better. He seemed, right off the bat, trustworthy and friendly. And she was right. For the two years Elena had been here, she'd seen Beamer scare off several drunken idiots and for the ones who didn't fear his dirty look, toss them on the sidewalk on their asses.

"Evening, Miss Marie," he grinned back. Solid snow white teeth were gleaming against his dark skin as he let her by. "You're a little late for your schedule."

"I know, I know," she muttered. "Just today. Won't happen again." She whizzed through the crowd of folks, avoiding server trays and tipsy drinks until she finally got to the stage door.

"Marie!" She whirled around, seeing a red-wigged and makeuped Melandine. Where in the hell they came up with that name Elena would never know. Blue eyes were prominent against her fair skin, wide in amazement. "You're late! The show starts in fifteen and you don't even have your makeup on!" She fluttered over, quickly stripping Elena as she made her way to the cosmetic table. She scrambled over the menagerie of eyeshadow and blushes, getting what she could find. God, this was horrible. She felt Mel at her ankles, pulling up a pair of stockings and looping them onto a garter. As she did her eyes, there was a bra put on, then a pair of shoes. By the time she'd made a bun with her hair, Melandine had her dressed, and the rest of the girls were lined up and ready. Of course she looked like an idiot with her hair pinned instead of curled up and fluffy, but what could she do? She took her place in line and strutted out as music began to play.

On stage flipped Elena's mood. She fell into some place where she was almost alone. She never really paid attention to the men that were making puddles on the floor below her. Sometimes she thought about what she had going at home. Sometimes it was about being sure she was doing what she was supposed to. Not on stage, but behind stage. She was a manager, anyways. But she was never really on stage. She was always in her own little world. But not tonight. Tonight, she caught herself looking. Searching the crowd for him as she swung around the pole or worked a piece of fabric off her body. When she made a dip to the ground she'd skim over the men lined up along the stage, but she didn't see him. Not that she cared if he was there or not.

"Marie! Damn it, are you deaf?!" Jesus. What now? Didn't they see she was busy? She stopped what she was doing, looking over the the side stage. Every girl in the act was staring at her from the shadows in amusement and confusion. She was alone in the stagelights, dancing for a gathered group of piggish, hoop-hollering men making a collection of ones and fives for her at her feet.

"Oh." She steadied herself on her high heels and bent, grabbing the bills from the platform and hurrying off stage.

"My god. You forget when to stop?" Melandine hissed at Marie.

"Just got into it I guess," she retorted, feeling scolded as she brushed by her. She snatched the robe off the hook and covered herself as she ditched her shoes in the hallway. She sat on the bench at her dresser and as soon as her ass hit the seat, she felt it. All sorts of tired in every piece of her body. She wanted to sleep all of a sudden. Right here, at the makeup table. Ten minutes. She'd be good as new. Another act, a few more bucks, an then she could go home.

"Marie?"

"I changed my fucking name," she muttered into her arms.

"Wake up. Go home. Go to bed." Someone shook her shoulder. Marie groaned.

"I need to work. Just...give me a minute."

"You're not doing any good sleeping. Just go home, sweetie. We can handle it."

"No."

"You're really a stubborn ass, you know."

"I'm sorry I like my house," she snapped again, looking up to see who was bitching at her. It was Jeanine, blonde hair in such pretty waves it made Marie sick to see them.

"You really that determined to stay all night like this? Jesus. Here." She sunk a hand into her robe and flicked something at Marie. It bounced off the can of brushes and landed right in front of her. A tiny little bag with about a pinch of white inside. Marie felt her gut ache.

"No. I did it once, and I still owe you." Jeanine snorted and lit a cigarette she'd found in the same pocket, holding it between her lips.

"I don't expect nothin' from you. Everyone needs a pick-me-up sometimes, sugar." She blew out a long, careless breath of smoke, and Marie watched it as it vaporized into the air. "Just take it. It'll get you through the night."

Again. This had become the regular. She felt down, Jeanine came around and got her up. At least enough to get by. And Marie was finding herself reliant on it. Just a little. She knew she had to stop before too long. But just until this big bill was paid. She was almost done with it. She could get that done. Rent was due this week. She could get that one, too. Tomorrow was physical therapy for mom. Or was that today? They all ran together sometimes. She stumbled a little through the front door, dropping her bag and her keys wherever they might land. Exhausted, Marie grabbed the wad of cash from her bra, counting out the multitude of bills. Ones, tens, twenties. More ones then anything. On her bed, she turned over the old stuffed bear. It was a gift from her father when she was little. "A place to hide all her secrets," he'd said. He was probably turning over in his grave now.

"Elena?" She looked to the clock. Almost five. Damn it. She must have made noise coming in.

"Yeah, mom?" Elena hurried and stuffed the bear with her earnings. "I'm coming!" She jumped to her feet and grabbed her house robe from the foot of the bed to cover up her clothes. She fast-paced down the black hallway to her mother's bedroom, peeking in.

"What's wrong?" Her mother laid in bed, a helpless look on her face as she pointed to the floor. The pitcher of water Elena had refilled before she left was there, water everywhere.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." Her mother's voice sounded like it could break any moment. It made Elena want to cry.
"It's okay, Mom," she shook her head and picked a dirty towel from the hamper by the bathroom door.

"It's just water. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just wanted a drink is all. Are you just getting home?" Elena shook her head, not meeting Miranda's gaze.

"I went out for fresh air. I had a nightmare or something. Did the PT nurse come?" She dropped the towels back into the hamper. She'd have to wash those tomorrow at some point.

"She did." Miranda nodded, but didn't say anything else. Elena rose a brow.

"Well?" She picked up the glass from the bedside table and went into the bathroom to fill it. On the bed, Miranda rolled her lips, not wanting to say anything about her usual therapy session failing again for the third time.

"Mom, tell me." Elena filled the glass, dumped it out, filled it again. She knew already what she was going to say. She was worse, like they'd been told. The disease was taking its grip on her. Eating her strength. Elena's too it seemed.

"It's apart of it, angel. You know it and I know it. And there's nothing we can do about it." She came out of the bathroom with her mother's glass, flat-faced.

"You'd think all that medicine they give you would work," Elena said shakily. "It's like a pharmacy over here."

"Elena-"

"I'll shut up," she smiled weakly, leaning and kissing her mother's cheek. "Night, Mom. Love you."

Miranda smiled back at her just as weakly, the stench of cigarettes and alcohol rising off her daughter like some perfume. For some reason Elena thought she was oblivious, but she never let on. Where else would she be so late at night? But she couldn't bring herself to confront her about it. Elena would tell her when she was ready. That's just the kind of girl she was. A good girl with good intentions. All she'd ever been.

"I'll see you in the morning." Elena slid the door to a crack, enough that she could hear her if she called again. When she got back into her room she sunk into the mattress with a choked sigh, trying not to think about anything but sleep. Her mother's illness really was like some sort of dance. Sometimes it played out perfectly, looking hopeful. Others it stepped on her toes and made her fall. Maybe she'd have a good day, perhaps she'd have a bad one. They could only take it a day at a time and no more. Elena shut out the light, pulling the covers over her and shutting her eyes. It took her no time to fall asleep, the one place where she didn't have to worry.