Who are they you may ask? Well let’s just say they’re the men who made me who I am today. The woman who only wants one thing, and is doing everything in her power to achieve that end game.
Kill the Moretti Mafia.
“Issy.”
Turning my head I notice Heather, who’s been at the club not much longer than me, she offers me a wave and a smile. Walking past security and her, I enter the dark club. The place needs a damn good cleaning and possibly disinfection. The private dance rooms need some air fresheners at the very least. Unfortunately, though, I don’t think the owners care much.
“Best behavior tonight, Issy. The bosses will be in.”
I salute Benny, the DJ as well as manager, of this shithole.
“You got it, boss.”
He shakes his head and slides his headphones back on as he adjusts his playlist. The shithole isn’t open yet, but it soon will be.
Most of the girls are already here and undressing when I walk out the back to get changed and ready for the night ahead of us.
The girls who go on stage wear extra makeup and less clothing than us. We serve drinks and take orders dressed in a mini skirt with a pink bra. Our bodies are tanned, toned and sparkling to match the club name.
Sparkling—a shit name for a shit club.
But one thing I can’t complain about is the pay.
“Issy, you work way too much. Do you ever take a day off? You’re making us look bad,” Sharon yells out as I slide out of my jeans and pull on my tiny skirt with difficulty because the damn thing fits like a glove.
The club is open seven days a week, all night. I don’t want to miss a shift, so in the last month, I’ve only taken one day off per week. And I make sure the day is one that’s going to be slow. A day I hope the owners won’t come in. And so far I’ve been right on the money and they haven’t.
Tonight, excitement runs through me as I brush on my bright red lipstick and pull a fake pink wig over my head. Usually, I’d put in some colored contacts, but I don’t bother changing my green eyes tonight. However, I work on my tits by pushing them up as high as they will go with my push-up bra and a couple of chicken fillet helpers even though they are huge, then spray glitter over the top.
I paid for a great set of tits when I was eighteen, it was one of the first things I did when I received my inheritance. That was six years ago now, and they have served me well, getting me into the places I need to be for tonight to be possible.
Everything I’ve worked toward has led me to this point. Close enough where I will be near these men and none of them knowing who I am.
“Girl.” One of the girls winks at me as we walk out.
I spot Heather straight away. She wants to go on stage one day but hasn’t quite worked up the courage to strip, so she’s getting her practice in with serving the men and watching the girls every night.
Some of the girls on stage have confidence others wish for, while the other half drug themselves up so much they don’t know their left from their right and that’s enough to give them the confidence they need to be there. I don’t want to see Heather like that, she’s a baby, just turned twenty-one. I realize she’s out to conquer this life, while I’m out to destroy it. We couldn’t be any more different if we tried, and I think that’s why I like her. She’s a light to my dark.
“One day soon, Issy. You wait.”
I tap her shoulder softly. “Or, you could leave this place and travel the world,” I say back to her.
She raises an eyebrow. “We come from the same background. Do you think girls like us belong out in that world?”
She’s right, but she doesn’t realize all those lies I feed her about me aren’t true. She believes that I come from a trailer town just like her, when that isn’t true. I come from a very loving family, one that I cared for more than anything. I trusted and adored them, and that’s what makes my vengeance all that much sweeter. Because the people who took that away from me own this club.
And one by one I will kill them, each and every last one of the fuckers.
“You can. You can do anything, Heather.” I kiss her cheek and walk away. She never had any sort of positive reinforcement growing up. I did and know how it feels. She needs to know that she is enough, and she’s more than what this life can provide for her. Heather’s goals shouldn’t be how she can get rid of stage fright so she can dance for more money, they should be school or travel, something better than this. Anything is better than this shithole.