she don't depend on anybody
know just to do with her own body
countin' all that money like a hobby
six feet under, the weeknd
"I'll do the job, but I'm not going to reveal my body to the point of nudity."
Rachel kept her arms crossed about her chest and her tone firm. She was taking her long, purple-dyed hair down from rollers. The curls cascaded down to her lower back like a curtain.
"Come on, dollface. That's how the girls do it at this joint, that's how they get money. Ass is great, but tits… that gets the guys hard." The manager, Garrett Thatcher of Scarlet persuaded.
Scarlet was a strip club on 14th Street in Park Slope, Brooklyn. The environment was consumed in strobe lights, sultry music, bachelors that would wake up with hangovers tomorrow morning; but first they had to empty their wallets of all the singles they earned in their last bi-weekly paycheck.
"I'm not one of 'the girls', Mr. Thatcher. I am me." The woman asserted through clenched teeth, her New York accent is raw.
"You'll ease into it, sugar," His breath smelled worse than loose piss in the Number Six Subway. "You have what I call 'pre-strip jitters'. Every girl goes through it, then they get real confident. This place helps you own your ego."
His smile was crooked and yellow. The cheap grease on his blond hair didn't hide his receding hairline.
Rachel's lips were flat in annoyance, and with a turn of her heel, she ended the conversation.
She moved to the front of the vanity mirror and refined her smoky, enchanting makeup. Sharp-edged eyeliner, matte black lipstick, amethyst eyeshadow. She only removed her nose ring for performances, but she kept the three piercings on each ear decorated.
Xia, one of the strippers from the club, was adjusting her outfit. She fixed a strap over her well-melanated shoulder, then picked out her lengthy, afro-textured hair.
"That's day one out of many for you, Rachel." Xia sighed, popping a wad of gum in her mouth.
"I don't plan to be here any longer than ten weeks." Rachel confirmed in her monotone voice.
"Whaaaat? I've seen you audition on amateur night, and like hell you've got more than ten weeks of talent." Xia declared.
"Most definitely." Mielle, a blonde woman with a sharp green gaze, agreed. Mielle was one of the town's favorite dancers, and for her to agree to Rachel's ability, that meant that Rachel was a hit.
She sprinkled lavender body mist on herself.
"I don't want to be here, okay? I can't be here. I've got a kid that I have to get custody for in barely three months. Twenty five racks, a husband so far gone, Heaven isn't giving him a chance,"
Rachel adjusts her maxi-length, mesh, ebony robe over her body. The robe was lined with dark feathers. Her dark, lace lingerie bodysuit, short, pleated mini-skirt, ripped fishnets, and black perspex platform heels completed her look.
"I'm here for quick and plenty of change," She purses her lips as she listens to a performance ending, "Here's to hoping I can hold down the nausea."
"You'll get used to it, Rachel." Xia pronounced with a bright smile.
Rachel thought, What do these people not understand when I say there is nothing for me to get used to?
Rachel smiles softly at the bodyguard who is standing on the other side of the door of hanging beads. 'Cube' was what he went by. A tall black man with a body thicker than a wall. He had a scar that ran from his lower right eye to the top of his lip. He said he got the lesion in a knife to hand fight with a crackhead in Hunts Point. He was the bouncer for Scarlet.
Cube was the only person at this place that seemed to have his head screwed properly on his shoulders.
"First real thing, hm?" His eyes were beady, but sincere. His words came out as grunts.
Rachel nodded quietly, then her ears perked up as she heard the MC announce.
"That was a spectacular performance by Trixie! Phew, the neon outfits will always give the fellas an extra flash. Next up, we've got the dark and absolutely mystifying Raeeeeee-vennnn! Give it up! She might put a spell on you."
"Here we go." Rachel gave Cube one last gaze, and moved out to the crowd.
On the stage, Rachel was Raven.
The woman glides her feet slowly and on rhythm to the instrumental introduction. As the beat settles into the song, she gives her hips a smooth swing. The music lets keys linger, and that's when she passes her hands over her hips and chest. The beat drops again, and Raven brings her hips in a full circle. The crowd praises her with the first set of whistles and cheers.
Raven loved this song— Can I by Kehlani.
The robe drops past her shoulders, but she keeps skin exposed to give a tease.
This shit's so good, should be illegal
Need round two, I need a sequel
Raven runs her hand through her hair, and gyrates her hips on the beat of the synth.
She bends over and faces her back to the crowd, gliding her hand up her thigh and over her behind.
Hit the backboard like a free throw
You next level, you a cheat code
Raven moves towards a group of men on her left, puts both hands on her rear, and revolves her hips again to the beat. The men fire up, waving their singles in the air.
In so deep, you hit my seafloor
Got me singing like Alicia
Raven lets her robe drop, parts her dark lips, throws her head back, rolls her hand down her neck, and rolls her hip all in one motion.
Got me using all your lingo
Tell your girlfriend that you single
Call me over 'cause I go hard
Raven clenches her teeth seductively. She slowly moves her hips again, and keeps motion while men add money between her body and her skirt.
Her fingers part her lip.
Sweet lil' bih, fuck like a pornstar
She pins her bewitching, violet eyes to a man in the audience, bends down, parts her legs, lets her hips thrust. She rides down and reverses back to a full stance.
"Yo, she bad bad." A guy murmurs to his friend, taking a sip of his drink.
The man responds, "Like hell. I'm definitely coming back to see her."
Raven continues to dance: her hands, legs, hips, back, and face blur the minds of the audience. She collects good change as she goes around the stage. It felt weird to allow men to be glamorized by her, and to permit them to feel her. Raven kept the access to her body to a minimum, though. Only her lower legs and midsection were available for touching.
"Please, oh, my god." A man found his way on stage, to Raven's surprise.
He was drunk stupid.
"The crowd is down there." Raven claims, keeping her body moving.
"I know, but I want you. You could bring the world to its knees." His face was desperate under the glares of strobe lights.
He grabs her legs some more, getting a full grasp. Now, Raven 's mobility was hindered.
"Seriously, knock it off!" Raven harshly whispered.
She tried to keep moving and to suppress the slight panic rising inside of her.
"Good lord…" He grabs Raven's body, and she falls to the floor.
Before Raven can cry out for help (because everyone in the crowd was endorsing this behavior), or Cube can react, another man hits the man touching in the head with a bottle of Tequila. Shards of glass and showers of alcohol rain all over the stage.
The crowd finally reacts with a sound of disapproval, and Cube comes rushing out of his corner.
"Get off of me, you prick!" Raven wrestles fiercely with the first guy, trying to get him off her. She nails her heel into his nose, sending both men flying back.
"Jesus," Cube pays attention to Raven first. "You okay?"
"Yeah, and then there's that poor guy." She points to the unconscious man covered in blood, alcohol, and glass.
The Tequila man stumbles off the stage murmuring "God… that woman is God."