The day went by quickly, I went shopping for new dance cloths with a friend at work. Most the girls at Heat treated me like a baby, but Elsa, an immigrant from Spain, acted as though I was her age; twenty nine. We spent hours trying on slutty cloths and laughing at other people. Elsa's English was decent, and we managed to understand each other well enough to make fun of others and share a few flasks of Jack Daniels throughout the day.
When night came, I returned to my shabby apartment to get changed for work. My old iPod was dead, so I reluctantly turned on the radio for music. My usual music taste was 70's and 80's rock, but I fell in love with the modern song that came . I guess it could be considered pop, but the singer's voice was rough and charming, and he played the accompaniment of piano excellently. I got dressed in a silver corset bra and a pair of lacy pink and white garters and undies. It was a 1800's theme at Heat tonight. I left my hair curly for once, but managed to pull it back so it looked elegant. The whole time I sang along to the song. When it finished, the station's DJ came on and smoothly said, "And that was the relative newcomer to the music scene; Ryan Chambers, with "Yours Truly." My girlfriend is threatening to kill me until I get a way to introduce her to him."
I froze from putting on my sparkly fake eyelashes. Ryan Chambers? Did he seriously just say Ryan Chambers? I told myself it wasn't an unusual name, it could be anyone. But I thought about it; the singer's voice was low and warm....and so familiar.
"Lotte, ready to go?" Liz hollered from her room. I returned back to reality and quickly finished my make-up.
"Coming!" I answered and grabbed my stuff. We leisurely left the apartment and hurried to the subway. The whole ride I stayed quiet, thinking about that song. Could my high school sweetheart have become a pop star, of all things? God, yes, he was gorgeous in high school. And it was not too much of a surprise to learn that he could sing.
It was glorious at the club. Sparkly chandeliers everywhere, bubbly drinks in elegant glasses and strange but fun remixes of classical music blaring from the many speakers. My catwalk had never felt more like home to me that night, as I let my body pulse to the music. Some reason the garters and old-timed undies seemed taboo, so the forbidden thrill just added to the fun. I danced on the catwalk, on poles and in the arms of horny men. God I drank some delicious shit too, though I honesty couldn't remember one drink from the next once the night progressed. I enjoyed myself. It was the most fun I had in weeks....Until I felt an ice cold drink fall down my shirt. I looked up and saw a very drunk man. He looked horrified to have spilled on someone as hot as me. After many slurred apologies, he finally let me leave to the bathroom.
I skipped the two main restrooms, as they are always crowded with primping women or couples getting dirty. I didn't feel like talking to anyone. My cute little outfit was forever ruined by a purple drink with chunks of sugar. I headed to the bathroom that was very close to the side doors that led out to the alley exit. It was just a single stall restroom, unisex and usually abandoned since it's so far away from all the fun.
I continued to walk down the dark hallway outside the main room of the club. It was dim and empty. I could hear the thumping music and shouting laughter from inside the club area. I finally reached the bathroom and let myself in. The stupid light was flickering overhead, and I has to squint to see into the grim covered mirror.
Yup. My outfit was definitely going in the garbage when I got home. Huge purple stains covered the low bust line of my corset and has splashed over the tops of my garters and thighs. The spilled drink had sorta reminded me that the night couldn't last forever. It was three in the morning. My night of happiness was bound to end, and it had just been cut a little short.
I tried to wipe off some of the liquid from my clothing, but soon gave up as it was futile. I smoothed down my curls then prepared to leave. Perhaps it was just the old mirror, but I turned back from the door and faced my reflection. Short, curly hair framing a gaunt face with startling blue eyes flashing from above deep purple circles. A thin nose and round lips protruding from sunken cheekbones. Heavy make-up; ruby red lips and vivid eyes, blushing pink bringing some color to lifeless skin. I brought a hand up to my face.
"Yours Truly," suddenly popped into my head. Whether my Ryan sang it or not, I wondered if he ever thought of me now. Our relationship hadn't been anything stunning or magical, it had been shallow and pure fun....Everything about Ryan had been fun. We had been two spoiled high school kids who naturally started dating. We were too perfect to not be together. We would always watch movies with all of our friends. When we were by ourselves, we would divide our time between making out and doing goofy stuff. I remember I used to make him laugh so hard he'd shoot soda out of his nose. Crazy kid. He had been self centered and shallow, but always had a good heart. And an awesome body....I remember when I left California. We had broken up a few months before then.
"You've just gotten way too intense, Lotte. I love you...Well, I loved the the old you. I don't know you anymore. I still care for you, Christine...I just don't know how to be with this "new" you. I'm sorry," I whispered to myself, suddenly flashing back to the present. I can't believe I still remember his exact words. Those were the last things he said to me. I guess he "technically" broke up with me, though I had been ignoring him for a couple months before he severed the ties. I sighed.
So what if I'm not the baby faced girl I left in California? Losing your way of life sometimes changes you. It certainly changed me.
"I don't need to be Christine," I muttered to myself as I left the bathroom after scowling at my revealing reflection. "Dumb mirror," I hissed to the dark hall. I began the long trek back to the club, though I would just be going to the dressing room to gather my stuff and head home. My heels clacked against the floor, echoing in the empty hallway. The muffled sounds of the club around the back hall sounded strangely eery as I hurried to the side doors that led to the dressing room.
A loud bang resonated against the steel floor. I jumped about three feet, then skidded to a stop. I slowly turned. About twenty feet away from me, at the end of the hall, stood a man. He was tall and slim, and obviously built, even though I could only see his silhouette. The lighting in the hall was that bad. I looked at the floor, to see what he had dropped. It looked like a thick stack of something, I couldn't tell. Wordlessly, the man blew me a kiss, then turned. With the grace of some sorta predator, he walked away. I heard the banging side doors as he left the building. "Oh shit," I murmured. It had been a very creepy moment. I wondered about the package he had left on the floor. I wanted to just run off to the dressing room and call it a night. But......What if it was a bomb, or something dangerous?