Prologue

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I love nightclubs. The dim lights, the smell of alcohol, nobody knowing or caring who they're dancing with, it's fun to watch. I wish I could join in.

Instead, the strobe lights flash in my eyes as the cold metal presses against my bare back. I'm not sure about those who are in the crowd, but up on the actual stage, the music is so loud it gives me a headache. I can't even hear the crowd past the front two rows, which is probably a good thing. I'm wearing just next to nothing, a set of red and black lingerie and stockings that don't leave much to the imagination, earning me catcalls and forcing me to push down the cringe making me shiver in disgust. My hair is sticking to my forehead and back due to sweat as I slowly slide down the pole into the splits, showing myself off to the disgusting people in the crowd, catching the occasional attractive, rich-looking man or woman. Then the cash started coming in.

See, I put up with all the horrible shit I go through every damn night, because the pay is excellent. Sometimes I get around $1500 in a night.

Even if some nights, I have to put myself on the market...

Yeah, I'm one of those ones. On Fridays and Saturdays, I can be rented for the night. And trust me, with my popularity in the club, I'm booked straight for about the next 4 months.

As I make my way off stage, my eyes meet with the pair of intelligent, drunken brown ones; my next client. I plastered the fake, sultry smile I had mastered and walked into my room, him trailing behind me like the dog he is.

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