Abigail's pov
Stripper.
"No I...I can't....I don't think I can do it,...I." I pursed
My mind going to the horrible morning four years back.
I'd just left the orphanage and a few months after I met frank.
We lived together in a tiny apartment together, barely getting by. I didn't care about the size of the place, or how empty it was. It always felt like home because he was there and because I loved him.
But on our first year together, he took me to an hotel to celebrate and spend time together.
But soon after taking the wine he offered me, everything became hazy.
I remembered we had a blissful sex… only it wasn't him.
Because when I woke up the next morning, he wasn't beside me but a man I'd never seen before, backing me and buttoning his shirt.
Shame couldn't let me face him as I realized what had happened. He didn't say a word until he walked out of the room dropping off some few Euros.
When I got back home, my boyfriend was packing his things and announced we break up. I was so devastated but became even more when I saw a message he'd sent to an anonymous person.
Money received.
That was when I knew.
He'd planned it all along.
I hated myself for it and hated myself even more for trusting him but becoming a stripper now... it felt no different.
Just another way of being used by men for their selfish needs.
Mr. Halpert leaned back in his chair, watching me quietly for a moment. Then he nodded.
"It was nice meeting you, Miss Foster,"
I stood, my legs a little shaky. "Thank you… for taking the time to see me," I replied, forcing a small smile.
He gave a polite nod, picking up a folder from his drawer.
I turned and started walking toward the door, my chest tightening with every step.
I couldn't go back home without a job and I didn't know how I'd pay the loan sharks their money.
I reached for the doorknob, my fingers cold and sweaty at the same time. And
I swallowed hard, trying not to cry in front of Mr Halpert.
But when I took a hold of the door knob it came open.
A young man stumbled into the office, breathing heavily like he'd been running. His black vest was half-buttoned, and sweat rolled down his temple.
"Sir..." he started, trying to catch his breath. "One of the VIP girls didn't show up. We've got a full table waiting. The clients are already furious."
Mr. Halpert's brows drew together. "Which one?"
"Naomi," the man said quickly. "She called in sick. There's no one else available."
I froze by the door, unsure if I should just go out.
But then Mr. Halpert looked up at me his eyes narrowing, as if a thought had just taking root in his mind.
"Miss Foster," he said, his tone changing. "It seems today might actually be your lucky day."
"...Lucky?" I repeated softly.
He nodded, walking around his desk. "You wanted a waitress job, didn't you? Well, one just opened up...at the VIP section. It's not permanent, but if you do well tonight, we'll talk about keeping you on."
My chest tightened. "You mean… I can start now?"
"If you're willing," he said, "We don't have time to look for anyone else."
I nodded quickly. "Of course. Yes, sir. I'll do it."
The young man by the door sighed in relief.
Mr. Halpert turned to the guy. "Evan, show her what to do. Get her a uniform, and explain the rules,"
Evan gave a small nod and gestured for me to follow.
I turned back to Mr. Halpert. "Thank you… for giving me a chance," I said quietly.
He smiled not saying much and turns returning back over to his desk.
I followed the staff member out of the office, my heart going fast in my chest not still believing it.
I'd just been given another shot...and I couldn't afford to lose this one.
I didn't know what the VIP section looked like, or what kind of people I'd have to serve, but It didn't matter.
Work was work. And I needed this job.
The guy led me through a hallway behind the club and stopped at a door with a faded sign that read Staff Only and pushed it open.
Inside, a few girls were fixing their makeup in front of a long mirror filled with yellow lights. The room was cramped, with clothes hanging everywhere, and the floor scattered with high heels.
"This is the dressing room," the guy said. "Ask for Lena.... she'll get you a uniform."
A blonde woman sitting at the end dressing her make up turned when she heard her name. She looked about thirty, her lipstick bright red and her hair done up in waves. "New girl?" she asked, glancing at me through the mirror.
"Yeah," the guy said. "VIP waitress. Mr. Halpert's orders."
"Alright," Lena said, standing up and walking over to a small rack in the corner. She pulled out a black dress, short, tight, and handed it to me along with a pair of black heels.
"Put these on."
I took the outfit from her, trying to hide the unease turning in my stomach. It wasn't much different from the clothes we wore back at Fluxx, maybe just a little fancier, but just as short.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
She nodded and went back to fixing her lipstick.
I slipped into the small bathroom at the back of the room and closed the door. The light inside flickered weakly.
I undressed quickly and pulled the dress over my head.
I stared at my reflection smoothing my hair, and adjusting the dress, before forcing a small smile.
The heels felt strange at as I walked out of the bathroom. The guy from before was waiting by the door.
"You ready?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Follow me. I'll take you to the VIP section."
The guy led me down another hallway that opened into a quieter part of the club.
He slowed his steps and turned to face me. "Alright, listen," he said. "Since you'll be serving the VIP section, there are a few rules you gotta know."
I nodded quickly, holding the small tray he'd handed me.
"First," he said, "you keep your head low. Don't stare. These people aren't regular customers. They're powerful you don't wanna upset them."
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the tray.
"Second," he went on, "you bring whatever they ask for, fast. Don't make them wait. If they ask for a drink, you bring two, they would not tell you but that's what they expect you to do."
I nodded again, trying to take it all in.
"And one more thing," he added, lowering his voice. "If you hear or see something you shouldn't… pretend you didn't. Got it?"
A small chill went down my spine. "Got it," I said softly.
He gave me a short nod. "That's all you need to know. The rest you'll figure out. Just stay calm and don't mess up."
He glanced past me, toward a heavy velvet curtain at the end of the hall.
"That's the VIP section," he said. "Go on. One of the girls in there will show you which tables are yours."
I took a slow breath. "okay,"
He gave me a small pat on the shoulder. "You'll do fine, kid. Everyone's nervous on their first night." Then he turned and walked away, leaving me alone in the hallway.
I stood still, staring at the curtain. My heart beating very fast before walking closer.
I lifted the tray in my hands, pushed the curtain aside, and walked in.
The heavy curtain fell shut behind me, swallowing the noise from the main club.
The lights of the VIP section were low...soft golds and deep reds, glowing off the glass tables and mirrors on the walls. The music was slow, not the wild beats from outside.
The place was filled with cigars and every table had its own small lamp, making it feel private, and hidden.
It was nothing like Fluxx. It felt like stepping into another world.
A girl waved me over from across the room. She had long black hair and dark lipstick, wearing the same kind of dress as mine. She smiled as I walked up, balancing her own tray filled with drinks.
"You the new VIP waitress?" she asked.
"yes, Abigail." I said to her.
"I'm Tasha. She replied. "You'll be helping me tonight. That's your table over there." She pointed toward a corner with a low couch and a few men sitting around it.
My stomach tightened from the sight of the mens.
"Don't be nervous," Tasha said with a little grin. "They're drunk half the time. Just keep the drinks coming and you'll be fine."
I tried to smile back. "Thanks."
She nodded and turned moving to another table.
I adjusted the tray in my hands and started walking toward the corner she'd shown me.
But slowed my steps, as I heard a familiar voice that made my heart suddenly beat fast. I knew that voice. I'd heard it before.
I turned my head scanning the tables, trying not to make it obvious. But came in contact with a man in a white shirt. His Sleeves were rolled up, and tattoos on his arms. He was sitting at the end of the VIP table.
My hands flew to my mouth to stop the scream rising in my throat.
I must be cursed.
It was him... the man from that night. The one who'd pulled the trigger and murdered those men.
But oddly now he seemed to look very much like my bestfriend from the orphanage.