The Devil's Bride (Book 1)

Chapter 4- Shades of Blue

ELISE

TWO DAYS AGO

My blonde hair is twisted in a braid as I walk into Shades of Blue, the strip club I am working at. I've always wanted to do something bigger with my life, but that was never in the cards. I am to be a stripper, I guess, it is the one thing I think I must be good at. Maybe I'm not. I spot Sara on the sofa as I walk into the backstage area. She smiles, licking her lips. Our relationship was confusing, yeah, but I guess I like her. She made the endless nights and the raunchy men worthwhile. Tonight was no exception.

A man steps into the club, smiling, still wearing his dark brown coat that still flashed his dark red tie. He clicks his leather shoes together and walks towards a couch in the front row of the seating area, staring towards the curtain where I peek out my head, only glimpsing to see him catch my glare. I turn away, frightened he'll do something else, and move back down the small staircase to a dressing room, unwrapping my hair. On the vanity was a clutter of makeup. Behind me was a hanger of dresses and skimpy lingerie. I sigh, applying a coat of pink lipstick. Jesus, what a life I have given myself. The thick smell of alcohol and cheap cologne wafts through the crowd and through the back stage area. This place is a dive wreck, but it is the only place I think about working in the area. It works for some people. I stumble back towards the stage, smelling the heavy stench of whiskey take control of my thoughts. I need a drink, stat. The curtain begins to draw open, revealing a crowd of drunken bastards and perverted men. Time for the show, boys.

The robe drops to my side, revealing the skimpy lingerie barely covering my body, a fur coat tossed over my shoulders. The girls in front of me strut down the runway, sultrily strutting with their heels clicking against the polished tiling. One of them stops to wink at one of the men, a guy in his young 30s. He isn't wearing a wedding rings, at least he isn't showcasing that he is been cheating. His light blonde hair is combed back, and he smiles when the bartender places his drink over a coaster. As the male bartender walks away, he sneaks a glance before returning to the women. Sara turns to me as she exits the stage. "Watch for that guy in the front row. He's tipping big." She smiles, taking the robe from beside my feet. I return my focus to the male with blonde hair as I move onto the stage, winking. He doesn't wink back, instead, focusing his attention of the money in the big tipper's palm. It is the guy I had noticed enter earlier. Is the blonde checking him or his money out? I don't know, and I don't care, I just want this to be over. My feet reach the end of the runway, and the dark haired man whispers for me to lean over, taking the money closer towards me. He smiles as I move closer towards him.

"How much for a private show?"

"Meet me in the back rooms. I'll bring a friend." He smiles for the possibility of two hook-ups, of course. What a suck up. I rise back upwards and move towards the exit of the stage, taking one last sneak peek at the blonde male. He had stood up and begins moving back towards the bar with his glass. He takes a pen from his jacket pocket and writes something on a napkin before exiting the building. One of the girls, I think her name was Lani, moves towards the pole, caressing her body on the silver metal. I slip past her and make my way back towards the dressing room, slumping in my chair in front of the vanity mirror. I smudge some of the make-up off my face with my hands.

What am I doing here, still? Am  I wasting my life to impress someone? Who? I'm not impressing any of my family, I am single, I have nothing. I have no one in my life. Unless you count these girls I strip around. I can't call any of them true friends, I don't see them outside of work. I'm glad I don't. I remember that guy, with the brown hair, asking for a private show. I may as well get this over. I call out for Sara and we walk towards the private rooms in the back, beside the dressing rooms. I rarely spent much time in these, mostly because it was a rare occasion for a guy to ask me, but also because I hated the idea of being alone with them. Men aren't my forte. I hate them with a passion, not because they are the opposite gender, but because they treat us women like trash. Nevertheless, I had agreed with this guy for one reason: I could invite Sara. We meet with him at the archway to the private rooms, his smile overbearing. When he notices the two of us, I lead him towards the second private room.