Chapter Two.
'I'm not wearing much clothes already.'
The man before her has a mask on, covering his face. She stood shocked.
She doesn't know why, but the voice of Damon telling her this man is 'Filthy wealthy!' rings in her head. Nope, she isn't going to trade every bit of her dignity to this man. Yes, she's also heard rumours about a man who wears a mask paying strippers handsomely. She should be lucky to be here, right? What does he mean by, take your clothes off?
He makes her feel tense and bits of perspiration pops on her head as he sounds serious. Usually, she's tough but there's one club policy that says the 'customer must be pleased.'
Her heart beats so loud but she tells herself all she has to do is explain. Her attitude comes to the surface. She knows she has to please the customers anyway she can, although she prefers doing this job with tears falling off her eyes, but she has self worth . She feels darkness in her heart from the hurt and displeasure she felt inside.
She feels disgusted. "This isn't what I bargained for. I'm not… It's a big misunderstanding." The man rises, the tobacco visibly in the air, Olivia steps back with eyes piercing through him. She calms herself. There has never been a mention of this case. "Sir, this isn't what you think. I'm a stripper." She believes him a nice man, although the change of demeanour is like thunder under the sun.
She swallowed for that one. Why should she feel ashamed of what brings food to her table? Yet she did.
The ambience twisted. The harbinger smell hung in the air and seems to stick around more than the tobacco and alcohol.
"You'll give me a diamond watch so I'll dance for you."
A confused look splattered on his face. "You'll dance for me."
"I will, but you'll have to step back. Customers aren't allowed to harass the strippers."
"Who said anything about harassing you?"
"I never said that but you'll have to step back."
The aura darkened. There is something sinister about this man's yandere attitude. He seems scary like hell on ice water. It's as though he'll tear me apart. She has to keep still if not he'll send a bad review to Damon and that's the last thing she'll ever want.
Damon would be furious.
He's the one who gave her this job in the first place, in spite of the lack of space.
She doesn't want to piss off Damon.
"You don't understand what's going on here. You have to please me," this man rushes to bolt the door leaving fear in Olivia. Like the grim reaper coming to take her soul this man lunged forward. "Dance for me!"
"Let me go! You step back!" she struggles with the man in her front whose cold hands were on her arms. She manages to free herself placing her back on the door.
"All I want from you is to take your clothes off." He demanded it like it was a flippant joke.
"It doesn't work that way. I'm a dancer. There's a difference between a whore and a dancer."
"Oh, really…" the man comes further, with a smirk. Olivia hears a slight chuckle, his movement causes her to swallow her breath hard. He grabs her waist. "I can't see any." He forces his neck next to hers trying to kiss her. She struggles with him, trying to break loose but his skin is already in contact with her bare skin.
It's like when a gooey substance touches your skin and you want to rub it off. The taste of tears is in her tongue. Her throat is swollen from the burden of trapping tears that she'll prefer if it bursts. She tries to kick this man off, the hurtful lump that's heavy in her throat permits her to only groan in sorrow, stopping her from screaming.
His thick breaths shows his eagerness posing as a bull charging against his opponent.
Olivia is usually tough, but today, right now, she's scared. She whimpers, finally tossing him to the floor. She's about to leave when she sees his watch lying on a cushioned casing.
She doesn't have time to think. The devil's bull is about to rise again. She rushes to take the watch but he grabs her leg causing a crash landing fall. She stabs his nose with her pointed heel but it seems it isn't enough. She grabs the nearest vase, shattering it on his head.
Ollie dashes at the speed of light.
She breathes out loud catching her breath.
Her arms are on her knees. She's now outside, possibly safe.
Her heart aches badly, she looks forward regretting the day she ever walked into this club. Tears are a part of her eyes like jewelry on a fine neck, but in this case, she needed it off.
Ollie wails trying not to attract attention from the others in the club. She covers her mouth not being able to cry out against her will, regardless she makes loud muffled noises in her palm having tears shed from her eyes.
She looks behind her in the halls but no one is there. She goes further with her teary eyes.
She avoids Damon rushing out.
Olivia is a tough girl. The man was really mad after all. It isn't her fault she's crying, the mad fat man is the devil. If her Pa was the devil's child, this was her grandfather.
She wrinkles her nose getting a notification from Chatbook, it's reminding her of Jace's birthday. She has to tough it off. She looks at her phone now outside with a brown long coat covering her body.
A few minutes later, Olivia is standing in front of a small gift shop, still shaking.
Her mascara has dried into dark smudges under her eyes. She hasn't said a word since she left the club. It's like her body had gone numb.
But she's made a promise to herself. Her boyfriend deserves a birthday gift. He has been kind to her.
She picks up the leather bracelet and pays for it with shaky fingers.
It isn't about the gift anymore—it is about holding onto something good after such a horrible night.
***
The lights are on when she arrives at his apartment. That is normal. What isn't normal is the laughter she hears inside.
Female laughter.
She frowns, stepping in slowly, the gift wrapped in a small paper bag.
The laughter grow louder. It is coming from the bedroom.
She walks toward it, heart beating faster, hand tight around the gift bag.
Then she sees it.
Her boyfriend.
Her best friend.
Together. In bed.
Olivia doesn't speak. She doesn't scream. She just stands there, frozen.
They both notice her at the same time.
"Olivia—wait—" her boyfriend starts, pulling the sheet over himself.
The girl—her best friend—scrambles to sit up, shame barely covering her face.