Dreamer

Chapter Two: Tiny Dancer

Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man

“Ah… she’s back." The sound of a bawdy chuckle filled my ear. “Good thing, too. We have some special clientele coming tonight, and I need all my best girls. They mean big business."

I scowled. I peered at the grinning face of none other than Vincenzo Crocetti. I hated his stupid face, I really did. And his stupid Italian accent—which would have been awesome on anyone except him. He was in his 30’s, muscled, and had long, dark curls that framed his face. His face that permanently had a cocky smile imprinted on it. What I wouldn’t have done to wipe that smile off his face.

He was the worst of people, yet… he had taken me in and let me stay. Not without a price, however, because in this world nothing is free.

“What’s with that face, mi amore?" He laughed. “Finally gave up on that school fantasy of yours? Well, you always have a place here, yes?"

I glared at him. Okay, he wasn’t an evil person, per se. He never actually tried to hit me or anything… but he was manipulative. He could convince a person to do nearly anything… He was also perverted and annoying. “No, the registration went perfectly." I replied coolly. A sudden realisation hit me; I needed to get a guardian to sign my forms. “Hey, Vince, will you do me a favour?" I immediately regret the question the moment it came out.

I saw the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Only if you do one for me." His smile broadened.

I gulped. “Look," I began slowly. “I just need your signature as my guardian." I dug up the sheet from my purse and held it out in front of him.

“Guardian, eh?" Vincenzo thoughtfully stroked his goatee. “I never saw our relationship that way, but… why not?" He shrugged, pulled out a pen from his pocket, and signed the paper. “Va bene, now give Papa a big hug!"

Really? Was this—the hug— the ‘favour’ he wanted from me? Somehow, I really doubted that, but I sighed and put my arms around him. Maybe… he was kidding about the favour? Probably not, but what could I do? And then again, he did agree to let me attend school. He claimed that it was because it didn’t conflict with my work which was in the evenings. Well, if he had any other ideas, I didn’t care at that moment. Why bother with worrying about the future? I just needed to focus and get through each day.

He pulled away from me and dragged me to the stairs. “Now, go up and get ready." As I went up the stairs, he patted my bottom and chuckled again before walking off.

I hated him. More than Vince, I hated my job. I sauntered off into my room and stripped out of my clothing. I opened my wardrobe and glanced around for a while. One day, I would burn this wardrobe and its contents. Today, however, I’d pick out an outfit and work. I pulled out a provocative little ensemble. Lacy black lingerie; a short, tight red leather tube dress; and on top, a translucent black wrap. Very classy I rolled my eyes.

I went over to the mirror and found my makeup kit. I created a dark, dramatic smoky look on my eyes, slicked on a pale pink lipstick, and accentuated my cheekbones with a dusting of blush.

A sigh escaped my lips as I brushed my hair. I backcombed it a bit, and that was all. I didn’t want to do anything else with it. I didn’t want to go downstairs. I didn’t want to work. I looked at the painted up girl in the mirror. She stared back at me with empty eyes. Empty. Was that what I was?

I glanced at the clock nearby. There was no time to be introspective right now. I slipped into a pair of black stilettos and took in a deep breath as I opened the door and exited the room.