●Gem●
The bass hit my spine before I even pushed open the door.
It was always like that. The music never stayed on the stage. It seeped into the walls, into the hallways, into my bones, a constant reminder that escape was an illusion. Neon lights flickered overhead as I walked down the narrow corridor, the smell of alcohol, sweat, and perfume clinging to the air like a second skin.
Men laughed somewhere beyond the walls, while heels clicked against tiled floors in hurried rhythms that matched my own pulse.
One and a half years. That was how long this place had owned me.
I slipped into the changing room and shut the door behind me. The space was small and overcrowded, lockers dented and scratched, mirrors cracked in places no one bothered to fix. A few girls were already inside, their reflections hollow and tired as they adjusted straps and fixed makeup. No one spoke. Talking cost energy and energy was a luxury we rarely had.
I placed my small bag into my locker and stared at it for a moment longer than necessary. Inside were the things that kept me alive. Pills wrapped carefully in tissue. Cash folded tight and hidden deep, and Lip gloss that smelled like cherries.
I changed slowly, peeling away my clothes and replacing them with fabric that barely qualified as clothing at all. Sequins, straps, skin. That was the uniform.
I was fastening the last clasp when the door slammed open.
Her presence filled the room instantly. Heavy footsteps and sharp perfume that made me scrunch my nose. She was the one in charge of us, the woman who kept the books and the bruises balanced. Middle aged, thick fingers always heavy with rings, eyes cold and watchful like she was counting inventory.
Her hand tangled in my hair without warning and pain exploded across my scalp as she yanked me backward, my head snapping to the side. I sucked in a breath but did not cry out. Crying only made her enjoy it more.
"This is the last time I will tell you not to be late again you dumb bitch," she spat, her grip tightening as she dragged my face closer to hers.
I smelled cigarettes on her. The kind of stench that clung to skin and clothes, like she survived on nothing but nicotine. Eighteen months in this place and I still had not gotten used to it. The smell always made my stomach tighten, always reminded me that rot had a face here and it stood inches from mine.
I tried to straighten, but she was shorter than me and the movement only made the pain worse as her fingers twisted tighter in my hair. The heavy rings she wore dug into my scalp. So I stopped fighting it. Slowly, calmly, I lifted my hand and wrapped my fingers around her thick wrist. I squeezed just enough to make my point, watching her flinch as I blew a lazy bubble with my gum and peeled her hand away from my hair.
Her eyes narrowed, glaring up at me like she wanted to strike. I had reached my limit. If she planned on reporting me to the boss, then fine. There was nothing she could threaten me with that I had not already survived.
"Do you know how much money it costs me to make my hair look this good?" I snapped, fluffing my black hair deliberately as I adjusted the strap of my bra. "Stop fucking messing with my hair, you old bitch."
I knew exactly what I was doing. I was tugging at the tail of a python. I just did not care anymore.
Harry valued me. That was the only reason I was still breathing freely in this place. Men paid thousands for personal time with me, and the money spoke louder than her authority ever could. I considered myself lucky that Harry had never laid his hands on me. If he ever did, I would cut his throat and deal with the consequences later.
She laughed, her lips curling with satisfaction. "Keep that bitchy mouth of yours while you still have that face," she said coldly. "Beauty fades, Gem. And when it does, you will learn real fast that Harry does not give a fuck on who you used to be."
I shrugged, unimpressed. "Whatever."
I stepped past her, deliberately bumping my shoulder against hers as I walked out. A few of the girls had turned to watch, while the ones who knew us barely spared a glance. This was nothing new. We had never gotten along, and everyone knew it.
The music grew louder as I moved toward the stage, the bass crawling up my spine. The lights were waiting. The men were waiting.
Gem never kept them waiting.
This was going to be another long night of me having to drug some asshole who thought he could get lucky and sleep with me. I never walked onto the floor unprepared. The sleeping pills stayed tucked into my bra, pressed close to my skin where no one could reach it. I had learned a long time ago that survival was a full-time job, and tonight was no different. I'd need it, just like every other night.
Jade was the only one on stage so far, moving like she owned the place. That perfect ass of hers had men drooling from the moment she stepped under the lights, and Harry valued her for it. She was my roommate, and in a place like this, as close to a friend as you could get without someone selling you out. She caught my eyes and grinned, and I smirked back at her, popping a bubble with my gum and letting my fingers wrap around the pole as I stepped forward.