Kapitel 1: The Princess
ANITA
In my line of work no one ever really tells you, you're a therapist.
An unofficial source of comfort, draped in lace. Aside from displaying provocative dance moves for money, you have to smile, and listen.
Pretend to care about their problems.
After all the end goal is always the wallet - never the heart.
A bit harsh to say but it was true nonetheless, we give attention in exchange for something else.
It was a hard truth to swallow that nothing in this world is ever free, and you quickly realise it working in a place like Den of Desires.
My workplace.
And not to mention my personal hell.
But maybe I'm being ungrateful in my attitude towards the place. After all it was one of the most popular spots in the city and a safe space for anyone with big pockets and an appetite for places like the Den to come relax.
Under the glaring spotlight, I feel their hungry gazes devouring me, objectifying me like a piece of meat. The white lingerie does little to conceal my curves; if anything, it accentuates them, especially my posterior, mere inches from a patron's face. Despite the intrusive touch of fingers grazing my thong's lining, I maintain a neutral expression, locking eyes with a woman who slips a bill between my undergarments and skin. I hope it's a generous note.
Spinning around, I spread my legs wide apart in time with the music wearing a small grin at the feel of money cascading down my frame, the feel of the notes felt like gentle kisses along my flesh. It took a lot out of me not to just grab the money and leave the stage but as I stood up and grabbed the pole, I knew the crowd along with my boss wouldn't be happy having one of his best dancers act that way.
Spinning around I moved my legs in the manner Brooklyn had taught me and landed on my feet when the song came to an end. Wearing my usual dazzling smile at the applause, I swiftly moved off stage whilst grabbing the extra notes.
"I swear you tempt me to give women a try," Brooklyn whistled lowly when I walked into the dressing room. Rolling my jewel shaped eyes at the comment I took a seat by my station and released a heavy sigh.
"As much as I appreciate the compliment," I paused glancing briefly in her direction to purse my lips as my eyes raked over her frame in boredom, "you're not really my type."
Her hazel eyes narrowed upon me, before she scoffed, "Bullshit, I'm everyone's type."
Despite wanting to maintain a serious expression I couldn't help but laugh. In as much as I wasn't into women, I could admit Brooklyn was gorgeous. Standing at five foot nine, she had curves that could tempt anyone to worship her, with alluring cat shaped eyes and a nose similar to one you'd find on a pixie she was easily one of the favorites at the Den.
We had met when I started working at the club six months back when I had lost my job as a waitress and had been close the moment she stood up for me against Candace who took an immediate dislike to me.
Just when I was about to open my mouth to respond the very woman who got on my nerve entered the room.
Speak of the devil...
Cocking my head to the side, I took notice of how stiff she looked with a hoodie covering her brunette locks as she plopped into her seat. Pulling out her make up she kept quiet, keeping her head bowed which was odd considering how extroverted she usually was.
"What's up with her?" I nodded my head in Candace's direction, just as Brooklyn turned her brows knit in confusion seeing the way she shifted away when Melinda who was also becoming a friend to me attempted to touch her.
Turning to look at me, we both shared a look and quickly got up from our seats to make our way towards her. Clearing my throat, the sight of her shoulders tensing caught my attention, "You okay?"
"I'm not in the mood, Anita so fuck off," she waved her hand dismissively causing my eyes to widen.
She had never called me by my government name.
And before I had time to register what took place, Brooke reached out to yank the hoodie off her head causing Candace's fiery orbs to land on her when she whipped her head to look for the culprit. Despite the sight of her nostrils flaring, seeing the busted lower lip currently in a deep frown and the purple colour around one of the eyes throwing daggers at us, I reached out to grab her chin.
The once busy room fell into silence as all eyes were fixated on the bruised woman.
"The fuck is wrong with you!" Candace seethed; she reached up to land a blow on Brooklyn who wasted no time in wrapping her hand around her wrist stopping the incoming blow.
"Who did that to you?" she questioned tightening her hold on Candace when she attempted to yank her hand.
"None of your business."
"Leave her be, Brook. It's not the first time she's shown up busted in some way, it'll probably take her almost dying to get some sense to leave," Melinda muttered crossing her arms wearing a deep scowl as her eyes inspected Candace who turned her burning gaze upon her.
It was sad to admit but it wasn't out of the ordinary for some of the dancers to have their pretty wings broken by customers who got too rough or from partners. Fortunately, since security was increased with bouncers always outside private rooms, each room had a number of buttons installed in different spots any of the dancers could press to alert security such that there hadn't been any incidents with customers. Such that I had a feeling what happened to Candace took place outside of working hours.
"You're all the last people who deserve to judge me especially you, side bitch," she spat pointing an accusing finger at Melinda.
The woman who the finger was pointed at shrugged carelessly before turning on her heels, "Whatever, punching bag."
Brooklyn coughed to cover the laugh; I jabbed her side frowning at her finding humor in the situation. Briefly glancing in Candace's direction, I could have sworn I saw glossy eyes but before I could react, she turned away and proceeded to pull out her make up to cover the damage.
Although I never got along with her, I was willing to put our issues aside when it came to serious matters.
"So what, that's it? We're all just going to leave the obvious issue at hand," I asked returning to my seat.
"I don't believe she's okay, but if she's not willing to get help then we can't interfere. Plus, it's evident from the expensive bags and clothes she's been rocking for the last couple of weeks that whatever guy she's dealing with is giving her money so not only will she hold on to him but even if we report not only could she deny it and protect the guy, but we end up making the wrong enemy. Some of these guys are criminals and I don't want to get beaten to a pulp," she whispered the last part wearing a serious facial expression.
Clenching my teeth, I looked away briefly taking in her words. Brookyln was right and I couldn't act naïve to the fact this club often hosted dangerous people who were untouchable due to their bank accounts.
"Anita," I looked up at the sound of my name being called by Raymond, "your presence is being requested in one of the private rooms."
Scrunching up my face, I shook my head, "My shift ended about ten minutes ago, get one of the other girls to do it."
"I'm sorry but that can't happen. They requested for you specifically and paid a big price so for the sake of both our jobs I strongly suggest you go before the boss hears you made a customer upset."
"Shit," I cursed lowly knowing that he was right plus I really needed that money, I reached up and adjusted the mandatory mask all the dancers wore. It was one form of protection to not only conceal our identities but was meant to help create an air of mystery to the club.
With a resigned sigh, I adjust my mask – a shield of mystery that veils my identity and shields me from the harsh truths of my reality. It's time to step back into the spotlight, to enchant and captivate, and perhaps, to empty another wallet in the name of survival.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein