Tragic Magic (Ronnie Radke Love Story) [Book 2-sequel to The Drug In Me]

84. Examinations

**** sorry I waited til just now to update. Don't give up please! It won't be like this forever ****

I followed him deeper into the upper level, eventually ending up in a room in the back. I jumped as soon as the door closed behind me.

"W-what do you want...?" I asked, looking around nervously. He took a step forward and reached out, grabbing a strand of my hair in his hands, twisting it in his fingers.

I held my breath, closing my eyes.

Whatever would happen, please be fast.

I didn't feel anything else, and when I opened my eyes he let go of my hair, walking around me, looking me up and down.

"Hmmmm. Do a turn" he said, and I turned slowly, confused.

W-was he evaluating me, examining my body or something?

Did he expect me to be a stripper, or dancer? Was he seeing if I had a good enough body for him?

"Well, we'll see what we can do" he said, and then he grabbed my arm and pulled me through yet another door, into a dressing room of sorts. He pushed me in and closed the door.

I looked around at the empty room-all the dancers were out working I guess.

Did he expect me to change into a costume and show him? And then what, he would decide if I was hot enough for him to hire out? Did he own this casino or something?

I saw a costume hanging on a rack, and I stepped closer, picking it up and holding it out so I could see it.

It was black leather, a bra with chains hanging down, broken handcuffs, a short skirt that was more of just underwear, if even that, and those hooker tights that ended at the thighs, with hooks tying the stockings to the skirt.

Fuck, this is really all they had?

What is it, a fake cop costume? It was vulgar, provocative, and very attention-drawing.

I guess it could be worse.....

I put my bag on an empty chair and pulled my clothes off, being sure to not look over to the mirror, knowing I didn't want to see what I looked like.

This would never work, he'd never let me work once he saw what I was, what my body was like....

But still, I have to try.

I put the bra on first, then sat on a chair so I could pull up the tights and skirt. I slipped the fake, busted handcuffs on, shivering as the metal chains banged against my ribs and stomach.

I risked a look in the mirror and gasped. If I didn't have scars, I might be, almost, well, hot?

Yeah right. You're hideous.

Always have been

Always will be.

I sighed and stepped closer to the mirror, trailing my hand down the scar running from my collar bone indent to my belly button.

The other scars were okay I guess, but that one....that one.....

The chains helped mask the scars on my ribs and stomach, but the bra didn't cover the scars on my shoulders or chest.

I wonder.....

I grabbed some rhinestones from a bowl and looked down, pressing them onto my skin to cover the scar running down from between my collar bones.

I peeked into the mirror and sighed.

Now I looked like a stupid, bubbly stripper. But better rhinestones than scars I figure.

Well, that was all I could do. I walked over to the door and opened it slowly, not braving a look up to see his reaction.

He stepped in and I watched his feet circle me, like a bird circling a carcass it was about to tear into......

I felt a cold finger on my chin and he pulled my face up, until I was looking at the ceiling.

"I'm impressed, you clean up better than I thought you would" he said, and I almost smiled, but I didn't like the way his eyes raked my body like I was nothing but boobs and an ass. Like I wasn't a person, only a body to whore out for his own benefit and delight.

Still, he hadn't touched me, so I guess I had to be grateful for that.

"Well, you certainly are scarred, but it sort of puts off a bad girl vibe, and you can play the hurt, pathetic card as well. I'm sure some patrons will be interested in you" he said, and I looked into his eyes finally, shocked.

He expected me to go out like this?

"Go on then" he said, raising an eyebrow like a challenge. "Call me Diablo, my little cherry bomb" he said, smiling at me.

I gulped. So I was in? That easy, I just had to dress for the occasion and I was in?

He reached out and took a strand of my hair in his fingers, looking at my face. "The red looks good against the black" he muttered, and then he pushed me out the door, smacking my butt.

I jumped and rushed out, pulling my hair out of my face, my heart beating loudly, hammering against my ribcage.

He followed me, but as soon as we got back to the open area, he disappeared.

Fuck, what was I supposed to do? Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck! I can't dance! I can't be sexy, what do I do?

A girl twirled around me, winking and skipping over to a new party.

Right, dance? Talk? Serve drinks? Fuck, I don't know. I should have paid more attention to the girls when I came in, what were they doing?

I walked around shyly, just waiting for someone to realize I couldn't do this and kick me out.

But no one did.

I walked a little too close to one party, and a drunk man reached out and squeezed my ass.

I squealed and jumped, and he laughed. I turned around and glared into his face, setting my teeth in anger. And fear...but he didn't need to know that.

"Excuse me sir, but you don't have permission to touch me" I said stiffly, leaning over and staring into his face.

"You going to arrest me miss popo?" he leered, his eyes wandering to my exposed chest.

Fuck, right, I work here now, of course they think they can touch me.

If I wasn't in a cop costume, if I was dressed as a bird or some other outlandish fantasy costume, what would he have said? I was lucky, shit!

Be in character damnit!

This is how you're going to get money now!

Fuck, okay....

"I would...." I trailed off, trying to collect myself and pretend to flirt. "But, as you may see," I said, holding out my hands, "I seem to have broken my handcuffs."

I tried to pout, looking down at him and cocking my hip.

Fuck, maybe this wasn't so hard.

"Hmm, how did that happen now?" he asked, grabbing at my boobs.

Okay, nope, it's definitely hard.

I thought he was just touching me, but this time I felt something stiff dig into my skin, and when he pulled away, I noticed a dollar stuffed into my strap.

I winked to thank him and walked away, trying to get the hang of this whole thing.

I looked up and made eye-contact with Diablo.

He raised his cup to me, but his eyes were steely as he stared into me, seeming to tear into my very soul.

I finally realized it. I wasn't in that easy. He was still evaluating me....

This was a test.