Wildlings

26: Breaking Boundaries

I wonder if this is what it's like to kill someone, Sannah thought. Something that you're sure you would never, ever do, that you know you're incapable of. Then one day you do it, and it's no big deal.

She sat down in one of the leather bucket chairs, tucked in a shadowy corner, and pulled off a shoe to rub her aching foot. It seemed surreal that she'd just taken all her clothes off in front of a crowd of strangers. Not just the once, now, but multiple times.

The first time had been awful. She'd stood on that tiny stage, blinded by the lights, her hands shaking as she undid her top, moving her body in a pitiful impersonation of a dance.

The other girls watched her impassively. Rade leaned in to whisper something to a friend, who laughed. The men were clearly uncomfortable. One turned to the bar, one got out his screen. The drunk in front of the stage got up and moved to the corner of the room.

I've blown it, Sannah thought. They can't even stand to look at me. Carter, however, clearly had pretty low standards. He just said, Alright, start tonight if you want to. Sannah really didn't want to start tonight. But she knew that she had to think of Judit, and that time was of the essence now thanks to Lox, so she agreed.

"Them's the booths," Carter had said, pointing to a row of doorways hung with purple velvet curtains. "You'll need one of the girls to show you how to do a private dance," he went on, his eyes scanning the club. "I'll just find Kismet..."

"No," Sannah interjected quickly. "Not her. Dierdra—I mean Ebony. Ask Ebony."

Carter chuckled. "Exotic pieces stick together, eh?" He beckoned Dierdra.

She came, the lights hitting her bejewelled dress in a thousand places. Carter leaned in and said something in her ear and she nodded, then beckoned Sannah to follow her downstairs. She waited until they were in the empty changing room before she spoke.

"You looked nervy, but you'll do fine. Here, have a drink of this. It'll take the edge off."

She took a small silver flask from her bag, and pulling the lid off with her teeth, passed it to Sannah. Sannah took a swig and grimaced. It tasted like a chemical factory fire. The heat moved down her neck, spread through her chest, made her fingers tingle.

Dierdra took a mouthful herself, seemingly immune to the burn, then looked at Sannah.

"Look, don't take this the wrong way, but do you wanna borrow some makeup?"

Sannah nodded gratefully. With make up, maybe she'd feel less like a child in fancy dress.

After watching her cack-handed attempts to apply eyeshadow, Dierdra gently took the brush and, sitting Sannah in the plastic seat, started to do it for her.

"How old are you?" Deirdra said, an eyeliner pencil in her mouth.

"Twenty," Sannah replied, the lie hanging heavy in the air between them.

Dierdra put down her tools and, using her fingers, raked through Sannah's hair, pushing it up at the crown.

"There." She stepped back as if satisfied with her creation. "All done. You have sleek hair."

"You too," Sannah echoed, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked about ten years older now she was made up. Like someone else. Good. This woman wasn't her, it was just a part she had to play to get to Judit.