Yo! Updates are taking a while due to massive overload of school & work. Still, here you go! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed & faved, I appreciate it so keep it up. That, if anything, keeps me inspired. xx - D.
Early mornings had never been Aurora's strongest suit; if possible, she preferred to sleep late and then stay up all through the night. It was a habit she'd inherited from her late mother and by the time she'd grown up, there'd been no reason to change it.
Today, as always, the glowing afternoon sun had woken her up when it had peeked in through her undrawn curtains. Yawning and still freezing from the night before, she'd forced herself up and put on the same rugs as yesterday. They'd lain on the floor by the bed, in a messy pile – just like her thoughts about the earlier night.
Descending the stairs from her small studio apartment, she couldn't help but recall every little detail about the stranger – or the woman she'd known once upon a time. She exited her building and was met by a cool, easy breeze. Her blond curls took flight and with heavy steps, she began walking down to street to her favorite coffee shop.
Bright irises of emerald and hazel kept flashing before her sapphire ones as she drank her coffee. The owner of the little shop always saved her a seat by the window so that she could look at the passing people as she enjoyed the liquid heat that would eventually wake her up properly. Aurora's eyes fixed on scarves and bags when gazing through the window, but her mind had stayed with the mysterious woman.
Sighing, Aurora rubbed her tired eyes and swallowed another sip of her cappuccino. She remembered. A long time ago, she'd spent an evening – her eighteenth birthday – with the woman. It had only been a short moment in the infinity of time, but for Aurora, that night had mattered, as she now recalled how she'd felt back then.
Her father had invited some of his associates to celebrate his firstborn daughter's important day, and Aurora remembered herself being utterly irritated by the fact that her home was full of people she didn't even know, and really didn't want there. When the crowds had parted, she'd found blazing, green eyes studying her from a distance. Surprised that the woman had held her gaze, she'd walked up to her.
"You're rather rude", Aurora spoke over her glass of wine, held by trembling fingers. "Staring at me like that."
The brunette, who was probably in her late twenties or early thirties, held her head high and looked down at the birthday-girl. "You looked rather miserable over there", she said softly and one of her brows edged itself upwards. "Are you not satisfied with your party?"
Aurora felt herself shrink even more, even though she was only half a head shorter than the woman in front of her. She brushed the smooth silk of her lavender, tailored dress, and then glared at the one the brunette was wearing; black, to match the thickness of her eyelashes. Slim and sharp, just like her cheekbones. She felt herself blush and quickly looked around, pretending not to be uncomfortable. "I don't know these people." She turned to look at the woman. "I don't know you."
The brunette chuckled softly and looked over Aurora's blond tresses, at the crowds of people. "I don't know these people either." She moved her glass of champagne from her right hand to her left, and then extended the first one. "I'm Maleficent."
"Are you dangerous?" Aurora blurted out childishly before she could stop herself. She let go of the woman's hand, embarrassed.
The brunette's laughter bubbled up and she looked around, confused. "Why?"
"Your name means dangerous or harmful", Aurora answered, secretly proud that she knew the meaning of the name, or the word.
"I see", Maleficent whispered, clearly amused. She smiled wickedly and leaned forward, towards Aurora, and out of nowhere, the girl leaned in a bit as well. "Can I tell you a secret?"
Aurora nodded slightly, holding her breath. The situation was incredibly… peculiar.
"I'm as soft as a marshmallow", Maleficent purred into the girl's ear. "Don't let the cheekbones fool you, Sunrise."
And now, that same captivating, mysterious woman was there, close to her. Aurora left the coffee shop in a rush and hurried further towards the city center, heading for De Wallen. Walking, she barely looked in front of herself and bumped into several elbows on the way. The sun had set, darkness had conquered the sky, and Maleficent had conquered her strength.
When Aurora reached Koestraat and continued towards Odjieskis Achterburgwal, she bit her lip hard and forced Maleficent out of her thoughts. It had to be a coincidence. It didn't mean anything, necessarily. The woman had recognized her and been shocked, and that was the end of it.
What bothered Aurora the most was the fact that when Maleficent had said that she'd seen her performance, she'd immediately been gripped by shame, and she had never felt ashamed over what she did for a living, now. For some reason, imagining the tall and intriguing woman watching her strip all of her clothes off made her skin crawl and cheeks burn. She felt filthy, and she couldn't afford to feel that way; it was already 7.31 PM, and her first show in the theater would be in an hour.
The routine she performed every night was always the same; she'd sit in front of the mirror, in the dressing-room, staring at her reflection for a good ten minutes before doing her make-up. Tonight, however, she didn't stare at all, and then forced all her contradicting feelings away. Her hands were heavy when she reached into her bag and took out her makeup. Her face looked paler than usual, and she watched herself trace her cheeks and collarbones with cold fingertips.
After half an hour of doing her hair and powdering her cheeks, she undressed and put on her outfit; red hot-pants and a sheer top. She knew very well that it was see-through, but it had never bothered her before. Her stomach turned at the thought of the brunette being there, tonight, watching her again. But then, that was a ridiculous idea. Aurora had behaved so badly the night before; why would she even come?
A knock on the door of the dressing-room informed her that she only had five minutes left before her turn. Humming, she put on her heels and threw her head back, making her hair all messy and fluffy. She colored her lips red and then hurried out.
When she entered the stage, a flow of calmness took over her, and despite the cheering audience and the lights that were so bright she couldn't even see, she felt confident. Grind. It was pointless to try and seek out someone in the audience; the white glow on the stage made everything else disappear. She threw glances where she imagined people sitting – after all, her job was not to look but to please. Strip. Her tiny hands fondled her shirt and then smoothly pulled it over her head, and immediately her nipples hardened from the air around her.
Grind. It wasn't like this was the place where she wanted to be forever, but after her father had disowned her, she hadn't known what else to do. A friend had brought her to Amsterdam, and then, suddenly, there had been all this money she could make if she'd only agree to getting rid of her dignity. In the end, it hadn't even been that hard. After six months, she'd begun enjoying what she did, no matter how sick her father would think it was.
Fondle. Her hands travelled up her taut stomach to cup her breasts as she bent forward, giving the audience a nice view of her pressed-together cleavage. Remove. Slowly, the red hot-pants slid down her thighs and she turned around to give the crowd a good look at her firm, round bottom. Shamelessly, her hand slid between her own legs. Bend over. She closed her eyes as she felt her hair cover the floor where she was standing.
When her fingers slid from her entrance to her bare lips, she gasped out loud and pressed her eyes shut even harder.
It was only a job. Or so she told herself. There was nothing wrong with enjoying it. One day, she'd have enough money to forget what she had done – what she was doing – at this very moment. But when it came to it, she had nowhere better to be, right now.
After four hours of pushing the same rotating routine, over and over, Aurora collapsed into the dressing-room and sunk into one of the red, leather chairs. Behind her, a couple of brunettes in thongs spoke Dutch and glared at her, but things like that belonged on the list of things Aurora didn't care about. Her azure eyes looked bloodshot and she desperately craved a cigarette.
She'd just changed into the tight leather corset she was supposed to wear whenever performing at the club when the door to the dressing room opened, and Rhys, the British guy who usually stood guard by the entrance to the club, walked in. His eyes travelled from the brunettes to Aurora, and then he shook his head.
"Not tonight, love", he mumbled, pointing at her outfit.
Aurora frowned and took a look at herself in the mirror. She looked ravishing. "Why not?"
"Private party", Rhys mumbled and stuck some snuff into his mouth, between his teeth and the inside of his cheek.
Aurora took five seconds to calm herself and then met Rhys with a stern, solid expression. "You know I don't do that."
He shrugged his shoulders and glared at his watch. "I don't care, Freckles. Just change into something a bit more girly, yeah?" He pointed at one of the dresses hanging by the hooks opposite the mirror Aurora was watching herself in. "That one will work." Aurora turned around and stared at the white, short dress that hung behind her. It, too, was close to see-through, with spaghetti straps and a zipper in the back. "The Circle, five minutes."
The Circle was one of the private rooms in the back of the club, reserved for men who were willing to pay a lot of money for something no one else got to see so up-close. Aurora had never been inside of it, but she'd heard the other girls talking about it. Apparently, there was a pole in the middle of the round room, which was padded with cushions and even had a private bar, available as long as the client paid enough.
The reason why Aurora felt hesitant was merely the fact that her only companion would be a camera, hidden somewhere in the room. She knew that there was always someone watching, since no matter how much the client paid, he was never allowed to touch the girl performing for him. Still, she'd heard of some clients who hadn't fully understood the rules.
Rhys was waiting for her outside the staff entrance to The Circle, and he smirked when he saw how nicely the dress hugged Aurora's slender form. She felt herself blush.
"You'll be fine", he whispered, and then turned the handle, opening the door for her.
Aurora slid inside and was met by a slow, steady beat. It was the same song that played whenever she was performing in the club, her Crush. In only a few seconds, the familiar tune brought her self-reliance back and she brushed her hands through her hair before her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and she managed to make out the contours of someone sitting on a couple of cushions.
Suddenly, it dawned on her who she was staring at, and her heart twisted in her chest.
Maleficent leaned her elbows onto her knees and moved her upper body forward, out of the shadows. She tilted her head to the side and looked the girl up and down, judging her appearance. Then, she smiled. "Hello, Aurora", she whispered softly.