Chapter 10: Into the Neon Maw
The drive to the Night Rose was a blur of streetlights and the smell of exhaust. The club was located in a part of the city Eliana usually avoided—a place where the cars were too expensive and the shadows were too deep. As they stepped out of the taxi, the thrum of the bass was a physical force, vibrating through the pavement and into the soles of Eliana's feet. The entrance was guarded by men the size of mountains, their arms crossed over black suits. They nodded to Anita, but their eyes lingered on Eliana, tracing the line of the red silk.
Inside, the air was thick with a mixture of expensive cologne, stale gin, and the metallic tang of sweat. The lighting was a bruised purple, designed to hide flaws and amplify desires. Eliana felt the panic rising in her throat, a wild animal clawing to get out. She wanted to turn and run back to the greasy floors of the restaurant, back to the safety of her poverty. But Anita's hand was a vice on her wrist, pulling her toward the dressing rooms. "Don't look at the floor," Anita hissed over the music. "Look through them. You are the prize they can't afford."
In the back, the other girls were a kaleidoscope of glitter and skin. Some were laughing, some were staring blankly into mirrors, and others were adjusting straps with practiced boredom. The manager, a man named Chief whose stomach strained against a silk shirt, walked over to them. His eyes raked over Eliana, settling on the red mask. "New?" he asked, his voice a gravelly rasp. Anita nodded. "She's the one I told you about. She's the main event, Chief." The man smiled, revealing a gold tooth. "We'll see. If she can dance half as well as she looks, we'll make a fortune tonight." Eliana felt a wave of nausea, but she forced her spine to stay straight. The stage beckoned like a cliff edge.