Page 4 of Fang
My heart races so fast I feel like it’s about to beat out of my chest as I wait for the music to start. It’s always like this. When I step onto the stage, nerves threaten to strangle me, but as soon as the music starts I know I’ll be fine.
Just like always, with the first note my shoulders relax. I imagine I’m back in my dorm room practicing. No audience around. The lights come on as I begin to dance to “S&M” by Rihanna. It’s not the most original choice, but it’s a good one, and the patrons seem to enjoy it. Especially when I wear white. The customers nearly go feral anytime I wear something white.
Like Fang said, innocence sells. While that is concerning for me, I lean into it anyway. I need the money, so I ignore the idea I’m selling. I placate myself by telling myself that if they are here watching me, then they aren’t out doing what they obviously really enjoy.
Money is placed on the stage, but I don’t pay it any mind. Later, when I’m alone, I’ll count it to make sure I have enough for school. I cut it tight this week. I was supposed to pay my tuition today, but I needed one more shift to cover it. My worries start to cloud my mind.
Then I feel it.
My breath catches as the beat drops, and I feel him.
Eyes.
Not just any eyes, but his, and they are on me.
I can’t help but look out in the crowd and find him. My eyes meet his. It’s dark so I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I know he is watching me. I don’t look away. Instead, I dance for him. I can’t help but sway my hips a little more since I know he’s watching, falling into the fantasy I’ve built of him in my head. It’s insane to feel this hot for a man who only speaks to me when work is involved. He’s never once given me any actual inclination that he likes me beyond my looks. Even him watching now could be considered checking on his investment.
Still, I let myself believe he watches because he wants me for more than my body. The one little lie I tell myself to keep me going. When he’s watching, I forget where I am. What I’m doing. It’s only me and him.
The entire time I move, Fang doesn’t look away. His attention remains on me. He makes me feel seen. He brings out this sensuality in me that I never knew I had. For a brief amount of time, I feel like the woman I could be instead of the one I am. I don’t feel dirty. I feel liberated. Like I can be free from judgment.
I live the fantasy until the very end of the song.
All too soon the music comes to an end, and I hit my final mark. When the lights dim, I sigh in relief and sorrow. I shouldn’t feel sad it’s over, but I miss his eyes on me. I miss the feeling he gives me whether he knows it or not.
The relief overshadows the irrational part of my brain. It’s over.
I did it. Another night. Another dance completed.
I head off the stage, and Tony hands me my robe.
Like always, he earns my respect when he doesn’t look away from my face. He doesn’t eye me like a piece of meat like most of the men who are in here. I once asked him why. Turns out he has a wife and only took the job as a favor to the Lotus.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I slip it on.
“You’re welcome. You were on fire tonight.”
“You think so?”
“Hell yeah, they were tossing bills at you like you work at a bank,” he jokes, making me smile.
“That’s the goal.”
“Well, boss man looked pleased.”
Clark, one of the guys who goes between the back and front of the house, slips backstage as the next girl takes the stage.
“Damn, girl, that’s a fat stack. The other girls should take notes,” he says as he hands over my money.
“Mainly small bills?” I ask as I slip it into my pocket.
He tilts his hand from side to side. “I’d say it’s a mix of both. You did good, kid.”
“Thanks.” I nod at both the guys and head back to the dressing room.
I can’t help but feel dirty as I head down the wall. I earned the cash that’s burning a hole in my pocket with my body.
Just like her.
