I’m not whole, not yet. But I’m not breaking apart either.
You can get through this,I tell myself again, and this time, it feels a little more true.
When I open my eyes, the fluorescent lights of the locker room are still harsh, the air still cold, and the desperate edge is gone.
I’m still here, still breathing.
Just as I’m about to pull off my wig and call it a night, Carl strides into the locker room and comes to stand in front of me, his thick arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve got a private booked,” he says gruffly.
Perfect. Just perfect.
I huff, letting out a dry laugh. The universe wouldn’t let me off that easily. I know I could say no. God knows I’ve turned down clients before, but the idea of walking out of here, out into the Vegas night sober and alone, feels like a worse fate than dancing for some drunken asshole with a handful of cash.
“All right,” I mutter, pushing myself to stand.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror as I stand. Glitter stares back at me, looking flawless despite the cracks I feel inside, so I tug the straps of my G-string, adjusting them. It’s all about the illusion, right?I’m good at this.
As I make my way toward the private rooms, the familiar buzz of the club hits me again. The sound is usually grounding, something that keeps me in the moment, but tonight, it’s merely noise.
My body feels heavy, as though I’m dragging myself through water, each step harder than the last. I don’t have a choice but to keep going because if I stop, if I let the cracks show, I’ll break. And that’s something I can’t afford.
Stopping in front of the private room, I force a smile onto my face as I adjust the strap of my heel. My hand reaches out to push the curtain aside when I hear it.
“Sparkle!”
The sound cuts through the thrum of the club, unmistakable.
Fuck.
I turn toward the voice and watch Hottie weaving through the room, his eyes locked on me. My stomach twists, heat crawling up the back of my neck as I snap my attention back to the curtain. I can’t deal with this right now.
Pushing inside, I shut the curtain firmly behind me and take a moment to compose myself. The guy already sitting on the velvet couch looks up at me, his business suit impeccably tailored, his expression neutral but polite.
“Hi,” I say with a practiced smile, stepping fully into the room and letting Glitter take over.
But then I hear Hottie again, just outside the room.
“I just need to talk to her for a second,” he insists, and I can already picture him standing outside with Carl, even taller than the bouncer.
“She’s booked for a private,” Carl grunts, his tone clipped and annoyed. “You can wait like everyone else.”
“How much is a private?”
The businessman in front of me raises an eyebrow, glancing toward the curtain as if he can hear the conversation as clearly as I can. I stay still, my heart racing, my body tense.
“A thousand,” Carl replies flatly, his tone daring Hottie to back down.
There’s a pause, just long enough to make the businessman and me exchange a glance before Hottie’s voice comes again.
“I’ll double it. And the same amount for you. Cash.” There is some ruffling. “Here.”
The businessman lets out a low whistle, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. “Well, looks like that boy’s in love,” he murmurs, standing and adjusting his cuffs like he’s not at all surprised by the turn of events. “Make sure to pluck that chicken good, sweetheart. Have a good night.”
I can’t even manage a reply before the curtain parts, and Carl steps in with his usual gruff demeanor. “You’re out,” he says to the businessman. “Diamond Diva will take care of you.”
The man shrugs, offering me a small smile as he walks out without a second glance. And then Hottie steps in, his presence filling the room like he owns it, the curtain falling shut behind him. He’s a wet dream come to life.
His eyes lock onto mine, and for a second, I can’t breathe.
