A.N: The concept of this story is strange, indeed. It's meant to show how bad things can get before they get better. I'm not an ecchi, wanting Sakura to be a stripper for my own benefit. She's just gotten herself into a lot of trouble, which will be explained in later chapters.

Disclaimer: Don't own CCS. Rights belong to those that do.

Chapter One: Surgil's Club

It would be dark, if not for the bright flashing lights swirling around. Mostly made of purples, greens, reds, they did not light much, the dark corners not even touched. These corners were filled with mostly men, with the exception of a few women, sitting on lounges, keeping distance from each other. Some were occupied with the other girls, some drowning in alcohol, other watching the girls on stage; drool forming at the corners of their mouths.

The background music of the large room was full of beats and energetic tone, instrumental. Sakura sighed as the lights went out, through the moans and laughing only went down a few decibels. The music changed to a slow track and the lights focused to certain point on the stage. Sakura stood in the shadows in an unoccupied corner of the room, as a girl came from behind the curtain, singing in a breathy tone. Sakura shook her head in disgust. It was just another of Sugil's 'hopeful singers and or actresses'. This one was just like any other. She looked the same, danced the same, even sung the same as the ones before her. According to Surgil these were the upper society 'courtesans', using the old, fancy term for a prostitute. Sakura wondered were he picked this one up.

Again sighing, she crossed to some of the tables, shrugging off advances from the customers with a sly smile and taking their glasses. Making her round all the way up to the bar, she stepped inside and slid the glasses into the dishwasher and filled the small jars lining the counter with more mints and chocolate. The other girls liked better the taste of fresh mint then some of the alcohol consumed and the chocolate was to increase the customer's sex drive. Meaning in short, they'd spend more money.

"Hey, Sue-kie, give us a margarita, will ya? I'm all dry!" said the gruff voice of a man as he sat in a seat in front of Sakura. She smiled and gave him the drink, through with as little alcohol content as possible. Through his speech still was understandable, Sakura knew from experience that he was already drunk.

"Bad day at work, eh? Drinking so much won't help ya know" Sakura said calmly, her Japanese accent thick. It wasn't as if he would care what she said anyway.

"It's always a bad day at work, Suuuee-kie" he said smile dumbly at her. Sakura flinched slightly as he reached up to grab her breast, squeezing it hard.

"Yuuuoo k'no, I'd pay extra for a little bite from you, Suuee-kie" he said, grinning from ear to ear. Sakura shivered. She hated it when customers talked like that or grabbed her. She took a deep breath and calmly took his hand from her breast and laid it next to his glass. She smiled, through inside still a little bit shook. You would think she'd be used to it by now. It wasn't like it was the first time.

"Sorry, Jimmy-boy. I gotta go on now," Sakura said as another girl entered the bar, stacked full of glasses. She slid past the girl and exited through the little door of the bar into the back area.

"I'll be watchin' for ya Suuuee-kiee!" yelled 'Jimmy' behind her. She walked forwards to the change room, slipping in between the other girls. She didn't talk to many of her workmates. They weren't exactly the friendliest to talk to. When they did, it was mostly because they were full on drunk, hadn't gotten any that night or were a lesbian. The girls were mostly 'things' picked up on the streets whilst still 'pretty', chain smokers, addicts to all matter of things or cases that Surgil felt sorry for. Sakura couldn't think of anyone who was remotely like her, these girls all seemed to have troubled childhoods, whilst Sakura's was relatively laid-back and easy. Through Sakura had tried drugs in the past, she really did despise the habit and could not think why on earth anyone would want to take it up. Unfortunately, smoking she got from friends back home and she couldn't shake it off, no matter how much she tried. She supposed it was the chronic smoke inhalation at the 'club'. Wasn't exactly a healthy atmosphere. The bird would probably die in here before it died in the mineshafts.

Sakura's little area was most likely the cleanest of the whole dressing room, save for the mirror, an ancient soul, who she had to share with several other girls beside her. It was fogged up at this minute with smoke and deep, peeling watermarks. It's bulbs around the frame, like the ones you see in Hollywood movies were nearly all busted and the one left would not have shed much more light then a cigarette lighter down on gas.

Shuffling through her clothes rack, she found her outfit and changed out of her Japanese school outfit. Surgil said it made her look young, innocent and was part of her culture, which turned some of the customers on. Sakura wasn't impressed. If she had she gone through with school, made it all the way to university maybe, she wouldn't have been surprised to wear it. Sakura had quit school at 14…not long after junior high started. Wearing it here wasn't only ironic, but slightly immoral.

Sakura struggled to do her hair in the dim light. It was always an effort to put this certain outfit on. This one was Surgil called "Game Pieces". Surgil styled all the outfits to the certain girl and for this one Sakura could tell he went all out. For her short mini skirt, it was a chessboard, with a few figures including both queens stuck on 'certain' squares. Her bra was a Go board, with more intentional place putting of Go pieces. She even had tiny RPG game characters on her g-string. Her biggest worry was the giant pink dice she had to secure to her head. It gave a nice look to the outfit, but they were incredibly heavy. This didn't mean Sakura liked the outfit. She wasn't born to do this job. She just had to, to survive. There weren't any other options for a girl with her track record.

Getting out on stage was the hardest part. She had never been very good with crowds; she'd never really had any talents to share. That had always been Tomoyo, Syaoran and Eriol's jobs.

Tomoyo with her sweet voice, Syaoran with his brash outbursts and sport technique, Eriol who was perfect in everything…

They were all perfect in their own way.

Behind the curtain she could breath properly if she stuck to corners, she wouldn't have to talk to any of the others that way too. All she would have to do is wait.

Then the upbeat music would start and she would have to push through when her name was called, like some kind of beauty pageant contestant.

"Our very own Asian Beauty - 'pop 'er cherry!' - Sue-kei!" announced Surgil, a heavyset Italian, holding out his chunky hand to lead her out. She took it graciously, blushing and squinting against the hard, focused light, walking to her appropriate place on the stage. Then the lights dimmed and her mind flew somewhere else. Right now she had to concentrate on looking sexy, not falling over or hurting herself on the pole. It wasn't fun. It was work.

Some people work in offices. They sit in their chairs, in front of computers all day. They work mechanically, getting the job done as soon as possible, to then go home and do what they wanted to do. Thy let there minds drift off somewhere, let work take over.

Sakura felt the same way, through her line of work much differed. All she wanted work to end so she could go home.

An hour she was on, a girl can't dance for more then two. She then got dressed in more modest clothing, got on the late bus with a nod to the driver, sat there staring out the window. She opened the door to her dingy apartment, it's florescent light blinking her a welcome. It was then she could cry.

This really is strange to write, you know. R&R.

… # Rei Ant # …