Stripped (a Zayn Malik Fanfic)

Miss Me?

A/N: Thank you so very much for all your love (and that orgy with Ziam...) xx ;)

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Leila's P.O.V: 

With ten minutes to spare, I began to change for my next performance. I had wasted far too much time blubbering over Zayn –it wasn't professional. I slipped into my white lace bustier and panty set with matching thigh high tights and silk garters. The colour white screamed innocence, although innocent was the exact opposite of what a stripper technically was. White was especially appropriate for the theme of my dance -a mock wedding. I added the final touches to my outfit. I clipped a veil into my hair, draping it over my face. Slipping into my white stilettos, I retrieved the last item I needed, a bouquet of fake flowers. Small things like this drive men crazy, little things that brought their fantasies to life. I reapplied my lipstick and deodorant, spraying a cloud of D&G L'Imperatrice around me. I was ready at last. 

Satisfied with my appearance I began to head for the door, however I stopped in my tracks when I saw the doorknob turning. Zayn had come back when I told him not to, the bastard. In a flash, I ripped my stiletto off my foot, preparing to hurl it at him when he entered. The door swung open, and I threw it with all the strength I could muster. Unfortunately, standing at the doorway door was not Zayn, but my manager Tommy. Tommy had a huge grin on his face, but it quickly faded when he saw what was hurtling towards him. Tommy dodged the flying shoe, the sound of it hitting the wall behind him echoing through the hallway. 

"Have you gone mad?" Tommy squealed, clutching his chest in exasperation. "Throwing your beautiful shoe at an unsuspecting visitor!" 

Typical Tommy –worried more about the shoe than his own well being. The whole thing was so hilarious I nearly permitted a smile to appear on my lips. And it likely would have if not for the foul mood Zayn Malik had left me in. 

"I'm sorry Tommy; I thought you were someone else." I apologized, still choking back a laugh. 

"That boy really must have pissed you off." Tommy deduced, narrowing his eyes. "Either way, you can't go throwing your outfits around, remember they're the property of Victory." He chided me with a disciplinary jab of his finger. 

"It won't happen again, Tommy." I promised him, rubbing my temples which had begun to ache. The entire day was well on its way to being ruined completely. "I'm just under a bit of stress right now." I explained, not wanting my beloved manager to think it was his fault. 

After letting out a irritated sigh, Tommy's eye's softened. "Well I have some good news. Your set has been cancelled." He revealed with an upwards twitch of his eyebrows. 

I began to sputter, such was my indignation. "What? How do you reckon I'll make my rent this month then?" I roared, violently throwing my makeup brush onto the floor. 

"You haven't let me finish, Bambi." Tommy rolled his eyes dramatically. "You've been booked for a private dance. Someone from the audience liked you very much, and let me tell you, it was a very generous offer." He revealed, placing his hands on his hips and smiling wickedly. "Looks like you'll be making rent and then some." 

I pressed my tongue against my cheek, embarrassed at my childish outburst. "Well, good." I managed after an emphatic pause. "Must I change again?" 

Tommy gave me a once over, stroking his baby-soft chin in thought. His fine-tuned flair for fashion had yet to fail the girls of Victory. "No, it's perfect," He took me by the shoulders. "You're perfect." He smiled, eyes tearing up like a proud Father's would. 

Five minutes later, I walked over to the booths reserved for private dances. I was always much more nervous for private dances due to how personal and intimate they would often get. On stage it was easier to pretend you were something you really weren't. On stage it was easier to hide. Under the hungry gaze of a customer however, mere inches away, it was much more difficult to keep the façade of Bambi in place. To my displeasure, scared and cowardly Leila sometimes managed to shine through.

I pulled the curtain of the private booth back and entered it, my heels echoing against the hardwood floor as I walked. The room was in relative darkness, although I could make out the figure of someone perched in a chair on the far side of the room. I climbed onto the low platform with an accompanying pole where all private dances began. After that was when we made our way over to the customer. 

Two spotlights abruptly flashed on, one shining over me, and the other shining on my high paying customer. The first thing I noticed was my red mask, held strategically in front of his face. He quickly pulled it to the side, revealing his lush brown curls and vibrant green eyes that I had been so focused on before.  

"Miss me?" The boy who I finally recognized to be Harry Styles said with a small smile, tauntingly waving my mask back and forth.

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A/N: Enter, Harry Styles. You are all absolutely amazing, however! I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Stay tuned, there is plenty more to come! Please visit s.t.r.i.p.p.e.d.f.a.n.f.i.c.t.i.o.n.t/u/m/b/l/r.c/o/m (remove slashes and periods) for chapter outfits, featured music, and fanart. xx