Taken In

Not Like the Others

The requested client was first.
He was old, and he didn't kill me like Gusto would've liked. He tipped 100 dollars, ontop of the 700 he paid for the hour. That was better than some.
I got half an hour to myself in the dressing room. I used it to clean up, reapply makeup, straighten myself out, and take another line of coke.
I tried not to look in the mirror on the way out.
I had to wait until the next client was sat, with his drink, and then I would make my entrance.
I wasn't tall, like the girls they put on the stage. I didn't have big tits, like the floor girls. I wasn't loud, like the street girls. Gusto was right, I was just a junkie, with no other option. Men liked my desperation, I think. They could see it in my eyes and it turned these kind of men on. A few of them had offered to pay me to move in with them, they said they wanted to take me out of here. But they didn't really. They just wanted to fuck and forget. Forget about me and their wives, and their jobs. And all I wanted was to forget about myself, and get high. I knew that if I whipped out the needle infront of any of these men, they would drop me to the nearest curb like all the others.
Gusto was the only man willing to put up with that, so I stayed.
One of the other girls, Luna, appeared from beind the blackout curtain.
"He's all yours Cheri. I don't think you'll get alot of fight, he tipped me twenty bucks just for walkin' him over here."
I didn't know if that was good or bad news, and I didn't really care. I knew it meant good news for Gusto the more tips I got, which usually meant peace of mind for me.
I parted the curtain, slowly.
The man was slumped, wearing a blue shirt. He had a shaggy mop of black hair on his head, which his sad eyes peered out from. He had a goatee, and a stubbled beard that blended into his neck. He was thin, and looked tall, even though he was sitting. The closer I got I realised he didn't really look skinny, more shrunken. Like he used to occupy more space than he did now, like he was collapsing in on himself.
He was glancing up and down at me like he was embarrassed, and scared. He took a drink from a green bottle.
The low lights were fading slowly from red to blue, there was a pole in the centre, and a mirror wall all the way around.
I caught my reflection, and saw what he must be seeing.
My eyes looked huge, sunk into sockets blackened with tiredness and highness. My little red dress looked too small even for me, and it made my hip bones pop out. My collar bones looked bigger than my tits, and each rib was visible through the red satin and sequins.
I looked away, back to him.
"What's your name?" He asked.
His voice cracked.
"Cheri, sweetie. What's yours?"
My voice went high, and I grabbed the pole, for stability more than anything.
"My name's Keanu."
"That's a nice name, sweetie." I spun around the pole, slowly.
They had a whole hour, and I liked to delay them actually getting their hands on me for as long as possible.
"I'm glad you think so." He sounded geniune.
I did a few slow tricks on the pole, then locked eyes with him again, spreading my legs around the steel.
"You're good at that. How long have you been practicing?"
I laughed.
"I never practised, sweetie! I have a natural talent I suppose."
He was unusually polite, and it put me off.
"Seems like a talent that would've taken a while to find out, you look young."
Now he was really putting me off, I just wanted to get this over with.
I took a step towards him, unsteady in my black heels.
"I'm older than I look, sweetie."
"You can call me Keanu, it's okay." He said gently.
"What would you like to be called?"
I turned around, grabbed the pole and stuck my ass out at him.
He didn't answer until I was facing him again, his jaw clamped.
"I don't really mind."
I didn't say anything to that. Instead I went and sat next him, putting one leg over his and touching his shoulder.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want, handsome. I'm here for whatever you need."
He look scared, and I was starting to feel bad for the guy. I removed my leg from his, but kept rubbing his back.
"I don't know what I need." He said it to himself.
"Well this is a good place to start. How about you just sit back and enjoy the ride?"
Maybe he isn't the kind who wants to fuck? Maybe he just likes to look, I thought to myself.
He touched my thigh, gently. I thought he was going to put his hand up my dress, but instead he pulled it down over my panty line.
I didn't realise how much it had ridden up, and I felt embarrassed for the first time in front of a client.
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
He looked at me again. His eyes were soft, all his features were soft. But his gaze was one of such intense tenderness, that I had to look away.
"I enjoy making people feel good."
I wasn't going to let him get under my skin, no matter how charming he was. I knew his type. Behind closed doors it would all be different.
"Y'know I meant it,"
His hand hadn't left my leg, but he wasn't groping.
"You are very good at your job."
I laughed at that.
My job. As if I clocked in and out and had a paycheck at the end of the week that I could spend however I want.
"Why thank you, sweetie. But it's less of a job, more a lifestyle."
I got the feeling he wanted me to talk. I kept my fingertips dancing over his shoulder blades, and I could feel his tension coiled within.
"Do you live here?" He asked innocently.
"Me and all the girls. I can get you someone else if you want? If you..."
"No, no, you're perfect. I have an hour right?"
Perfect.
I nodded at him.
"And how long has it been?"
I shrugged.
"They'll let us know when your times up, sweetie. Like I said, enjoy yourself..."
I stood up and began spinning on the pole again, I was still way too high for this.
"...you've earned it." I finished off.
"Earned it?" He sounded offended, almost.
"Well you paid the door man, right?"
It was his turn to nod as I slid up and down the steel, trying to avoid his eye contact as much as possible. It was difficult, he kept his eyes locked to mine.
"Then, Honey, all this is yours for the full hour."
I ran my hands over myself, over my little cherry red dress and bones. I was like a performing monkey, this man made me feel like an idiot for dancing infront of him like this.
Just cave already, don't torture me anymore. Just take what you came for and go.
I was already thinking of that tin at the bottom of my makeup bag. God I wanted a hit so bad. My vision swam in and out and my heart started pounding.
"Do you want to sit down?"
Enough pretense.
I locked eyes with him, tried to keep the black dots out of my vision.
"Would you like me to?" I asked curtly, annoyed that he must've seen that wave of exhaustion.
"Yes."
I sat down next to him, our bodies not touching.
"What if I said, for the next 40 minutes or so, I wanted nothing but the truth from you?"
The question wasn't unkind, but it made me sweat.
"...I have been telling the truth." I tried.
"You don't have to talk like that around me. I promise I won't tell anyone, there's no camera's in here is there?"
Definitely a first timer.
I shook my head.
"Then you're fine, I just need someone to talk to I think, Cheri."
He put his head in hands, ran his fingers through his dark hair and twisted it into his fists.
"I've had a long week. I just want to talk to someone real."
It took me a minute. I tried to collect my thoughts. Maybe this was a test from Gusto, some agent he sent in to see what I would do.
But I didn't really care.
Under the sofa there was a cigar box, which I retrieved, and then took out the cheap cigarettes from the bottom.
I lit us both one, handed it to him, and he smiled.
"What kind of a long week?" I asked, my voice at its normal tone now.
Fuck it, what have I got to lose?
"I want to hear about you." He took a drink from his beer, then offered some to me.
I declined.
"I don't think my story is very interesting to a man like you, Keanu. Nothing out of the ordinary."
He chuckled a bit.
"I think we live in different ordinaries, Cheri. I don't know what ordinary is here."
"It won't make you feel better." I reasoned.
"Maybe I don't want to feel better." Another drag from his cigarette.
"Everyone wants to feel better, that's why I'm here."
He turned to face me then. His dark hair hanging like a curtain. He was handsome, in a strange way. He was unique.
"How old are you?"
"Guess."
I blew smoke in his face, just for asking me my age.
I was 19, but truth be told I had no memory of my last 3 birthdays. I knew it was in March, around the 14th. But I had never celebrated, I just remembered glimpsing the date on a file once down in the county jail. But I could've misread.
"You're too young.."
He looked away, that embarrassment was back.
"...too young for all this. You look like a kid. And yet..."
He looked me up and down, but didn't turn back.
"You've got it all. You look older than you are, but you can't hide your voice, or the way you talk. You're still so young, Cheri. You shouldn't be here."
"I'm right where I belong." Flicked the cigarette butt on the ground.
He turned back to me then.
"Do you really believe that?"
"Wholeheartedly. I'd be dead if it wasn't for this club, he saved my life."
"He?"
"The club I mean." I tried to sound unbothered, but my vision was swimming and my stomach began to churn.
"But you could do anything. You're smart, I can see that. Why stay here?"
"You don't know me, you don't know who I am." I half snapped, my blood was boiling and my heart was pounding.
I needed another hit.
He was surprised that I bit back, he look genuinely concerned.
"I'm sorry. You're right, I'm sorry. It's not my place to say."
Silence passed between us as he finished off the last of his cigarette. I lit us 2 more.
"I'm 19, by the way. I'm pretty sure."
He drew breath. He looked to be well into his 30s, maybe early 40s.
"You're pretty sure?"
"Never had it confirmed." I shrugged.
"You been working here long?" He asked after a long drink that finished his bottle off.
"A few months."
He nodded, as if he understood. And I appreciate him trying. But I was definitely still too high for this. I still had a long night ahead of me.
"Do you enjoy it?"
I laughed, and met his gaze with a smile on my face. There was no smile on his face though, there was...concern.
"Like I said, this place saved my life. I'm very grateful, and I'm very lucky." I said it in such a way that suggested this part of the conversation was over.
"Where are your parents?"
He obviously didn't get the hint.
"Why? You wanna meet them?"
"No, no, I just..."
"What are you doing here, Keanu?" I shifted myself round, so I was directly facing him.
"You seem like a nice guy, you don't want to fuck me, and you don't want me to dance for you. Luna told me that you tipped her 20 dollars just for walking over here, and so far I haven't seen a cent. All you've done is interogate me while I'm trying to do my job and..."
"Okay, I'm sorry." He interrupted.
Then he dug around in his breast pocket, took out 50 dollars and handed it to me.
"You're right, I've been interrogating you. I'm sorry. Truth is,"
He sighed, a sigh full of pain.
"I've never been to a place like this before...I thought...I don't know what I thought."
I held the 50, feeling numb. Feeling like shit for biting at the poor guy. I didn't even want to take his money, and now I felt bad.
"My wife died, years ago now. We hadn't been married for long, but we'd known each other since we were kids. I really loved her, y'know. And..."
He choked.
"...12 years ago, today. She died. And I have never looked for anything else. I just...I really loved her. And I thought this would...I just thought..."
His voice was low and unstable. He had the hoarse voice and slumped shoulders of someone who had cried all their tears, and was now left with nothing but the pain, and no way to feel it.
I knew how that felt.
"I thought this would help. I thought I'd be able to just walk in here and forget...but you...and I just can't get her out of my mind. 12 years... and I still see her everywhere. I work, constantly. I work every hour they'll give me...I promised her....before she...before she died, that I wouldn't drink. And I did to start with. Now I don't unless it's this night....but even that...even then..."
I still held the note, transfixed by this man, spilling his heart out in this private booth.
I didn't know what to do, so I touched him. I put a hand gently on his back, and his shoulders sagged for a second, the tension gone.
Then he started crying.
Then he was sobbing.
Then he was on my lap, almost curled up if his legs weren't so long. He was shaking, silent spasms shook his frame, and he was pressing himself further and further into me. He hurt. He was grabbing my waist and squeezing tight, but there was nothing there to grab and his arms wrapped the whole way around me. I cradled his mop of greasy hair, and held him close to my chest, rocking back and fourth.
I shut my eyes, and I pretended he was holding me back. That I was being cradled too, and that we were both in each others arms, like equals.
But we're not. He paid 700 dollars to do this. And he will leave in 10 minutes and then I will have to fuck some random guy again. And another one after that.
The thought came crashing down on me like a pile of razor covered bricks, and it ripped my heart to shreds.
Eventually, he detached himself from me. Snivelling, he put his head in his hands, didn't look at me.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly
"It's okay, really, it's okay."
He must've heard the crack in my voice, and he looked then.
I realised I had tears running down my cheeks, and before I could wipe them away they fell into my lap. He went to wipe them for me, with large hands, and I flinched.
He stopped dead, withdrew his hand, and now it was my turn to look at the floor.
"I'm sorry." He said again, this time, as a whisper.
Suddenly the curtain parted and one of the security guards dressed in all black stepped in.
An hour, already.
"Time." He said simply, holding the curtain open.
Keanu reached back into his breastpocket and handed me what must've been around 200 dollars in various different notes.
"No...no I don't..." I started.
"Please take it, Cheri. You need it more than me."
Then he stood, looked at me, squeezed my hand in his, and left. He looked over his shoulder as he ducked under the curtain, and those eyes stayed burned into my heart for the rest of this night.