Author's Note: I posted this a few years back and never finished it. I finally got the final chapters written and the finished product polished. This is a re-post with new material and an ending. It's an alternate universe story that mainly features characters from Season 4-5. Please enjoy.
One: Routine
Club Teramin was filled to the brim with alcohol and men.
Staged to look more like a night club than a striptease joint, Club Teramin stood on the corner of a quiet area in downtown Atlanta that could be mistaken by middle-class folks for some sort of slum. The outside wasn't cleaned regularly, but when it was, it smelled strongly of hemp seed oil.
The inside was cleaner than most joints in the area. Gareth, the owner, was a stickler for making his club stand out from the rest. 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 one of Hollywood, though Gareth was aiming for Broadway. He called his stage, "A." He found the letter very fitting, comparing his first stage to Adam, the first of man.
Tonight, the stage was dark. Beth was waiting just behind the curtain. She had been dancing for Gareth for almost a year, but the butterflies never really flew away.
An audience of males, mostly alcoholics, meth-heads and ex-military, 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 to the rhythm of the music. The men were more interested in her 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 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 sang while contorting her body into dozens of precarious positions to scoop up her pay. The audience adored her every move. A bouncer they called Tyrese kept anyone from rushing the stage.
Two raven haired bellas 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. An older woman appeared behind her wearing a black lace ensemble around the waist and green paint accentuating her bare chest. She was described by one regular 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 blue birds 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 Red!"
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, they'd probably assume it was part of the show.
The backstage part of Club Teramin 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 Gareth'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. Gareth 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!" Gareth burst through the curtains with the grace of a prestigious dancing instructor.
Beth was wiping her makeup away at her vanity. Gareth ignored the other girls in the room and made his way towards 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!" Gareth sang his praises at her.
Beth felt her cheeks flush despite knowing that Gareth 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 whites glowed at her even as he slipped his take into his Japanese-themed silk vest. Beth smiled back at him, considering herself lucky that Gareth 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!" Gareth 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 older woman who sat across from her. Beth felt her stomach tighten into knots. She didn't like being alone with Lori.
"It won't last, you know," Lori called over her shoulder.
Her reflection in Beth's mirror betrayed nothing but a staleness that only reverberated off of women who found being mean more to their liking. She watched through the mirror as Lori rose up from her seat and came over to place a pair of dry hands on Beth's bare shoulders. Lori's long dark hair brushed across Beth's right cheek. It felt dry and smelled of limes.
"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."
Lori searched Beth's reflection for a reaction. Beth refused to let her find it.
"You'll see," Lori chuckled, pushing unnecessarily against Beth's shoulders to straighten herself before leaving the room.
Beth waited a long while until she was sure Lori had left the building. Beth took her bag and left the mostly quiet back room. She didn't bother to check Gareth's office to see if he had been listening the whole time.
One of the bluebirds, Rosita, was waiting by the exit to say good-bye to Beth. They hugged one another and Rosita let out an airy laugh. They had grown on each other over the past year and Rosita was one of the few women Beth felt could be trusted.
"Go home and get a good night's rest!" Rosita waved her French manicure in Beth's direction when they parted ways, outside.
"I'll try," Beth called back to her.
Rosita yelled enthusiastically, "Does that mean your boy's makin' a move, tonight?"
She was referring to Beth's roommate. Rosita had been waiting for details of a hookup for months. Beth had yet to share so much as a kiss.
"Maybe," came Beth's response.
"If he don't, I know a lonely gamer named Eugene who'll play with you!" Rosita cackled at her own joke.
Beth turned back to roll her eyes and Rosita 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 usually worked. She was aware of the violence that could result, but had fortunately never experienced it for herself.
There was someone waiting for her. Instinct told her it was male. He was leaning against the cinder blocks of the building, a shadow figure contrasting against the club's color of eighties-era pastel pink. Beth could see the bright red dot of his cigarette sticking out from where the presumed mouth should 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.
Daryl flexed his shoulder blades to push off from the wall. He stepped into the light and removed his cigarette, stomping it into the ground with the heel of his boot as he barked, "I ain't hidin'."
"Yeah? Well, it sure looked like you were," she teased him with a smile.
He didn't lighten up, but Daryl 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. Daryl didn't put on a helmet but handed Beth her own. Her eyes dilated a little when she saw the bright pink helmet shining so brightly against the light of the moon. Daryl waited patiently for her to work the helmet's strap.
They had met by happenstance shortly after Beth started working at the club. Daryl's older brother Merle was working as a bouncer for the club while he frequently taste-tested Gareth's new shipments of alcohol for the club's bar. Merle also charmed most of his female co-workers and eventually knocked one of them up. After receiving the news, Merle promptly got himself arrested for a petty crime.
Daryl stopped by to talk to the girl Merle knocked up. Unlike his older brother, Daryl was concerned for the girl and offered to pay what he could to help her raise his niece or nephew. Beth watched as Daryl came by daily to talk to the girl, offering his help until the girl disappeared and left a note that she had gotten an abortion.
Beth was asked to give Daryl the note. He was understandably furious, but Beth also noticed that Daryl carried a strong sense of guilt about the situation. Daryl stood to never come back to the club, but Beth persuaded him to stick around until they could find another bouncer to replace Merle. It was only a week until they found Tyrese, but Daryl 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, taking a drink from time to time, passing the hours watching the girls with idle interest.
Daryl 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 mostly stoic expression, his eyes as blue as the sky in Montana on a clear day seemed lost somewhere deep inside 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 Maggie. With a corporate job in New York City, Maggie 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 felt her decision was the right one. She knew Daryl was not the kind of guy to love her and leave her. He was loyal through and through. He proved that to her when he tried so hard to help the girl Merle knocked up. She learned over time that Daryl was also not the kind of guy who had many hookups. In fact, Beth usually acted like his girlfriend in public so he didn't have to turn anyone down. He responded in kind by acting like her boyfriend to keep the creeps away. They were friends with a perfect system.
She sure wished they were friends with benefits.