CONTROL ▼ HARRY STYLES AU

PROLOGUE.

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How had she gotten like this? She had no idea. Every day was the same, go to work at eight, dance until the early hours, then return to her squalor flat and sleep off her exhaustion.

It wasn't right, of course, for a girl only just turned 19 to be living like this. Dancing for strangers every single night. Dancing away her reputation, her dignity. Juliette knew it was wrong.

Though she had only been working there for six months or so, she quickly became popular with the regulars at the club. Her bright doe eyes, and angelic, smooth skin made sure of that. Her beauty entranced them, her soft curves and gracious movements pulled them in, ripping their money from their fingertips and securing it right in her devil red garter.

This, of course, made some of the dancers quite jealous, and hostile towards Juliette, or as they knew her: 'Lola'. Her stage name had no meaning at all, but it was short, sweet, and protected her real identity. It'd be hell for her if any of the men, or other girls, learnt her real name. No doubt she'd have creeps turning up at her door every day.

"Lola, I need you up there-"

She sighed softly, leaning over the dressing table and reapplying her deep red lipstick as neatly as possible, though it was already pretty messy. This was her last dance of the night; her hair was knotted, her mascara smudged, her lips dry. She looked up at the clock. 3am. This would be her last dance of the night. She stood tall, ignoring the glares of the other girls, and strutted out to the stage.

The spotlight shone bright, the crowd erupted with applause, and she begun...

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