“Yeah, I saw you the other night. I’m Quinn- I mean Sugar,” I correct myself.
“Pleasure,” she smiles.
“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” she asks again.
“Umm... my roommate moved out and I couldn’t afford the rent alone, between that and paying for college, I’m stretched pretty thin.”
“Shit, that sucks. Me, I’ve been here forfartoo long. I’m a twenty-two year-old single mom with two kids after my shithead boyfriend upped and left me.”
“Oh my God.”
“Hey, that’s life, I guess.” She shrugs. “You’ll find that everyone of us has a story about why we ended up here, usually, it’s not by choice. If you need anything, I’m here.” She smiles. “Ignore her,” she motions to the girl in the corner, the one she was arguing with the other night, “she’s a bitch. A lot of them are. But not me, I promise.”
Rick, pokes his head around the door, his eyes meeting mine. “You’re up next,” he announces.
My stomach tightens as I make my way towards the stage, and I watch as Paula grinds against the chrome pole toPartitionby Beyonce.
I stand mesmerized. She’s incredible. My eyes scan over the darkened silhouettes of the men that surround the stage, they love her. They’re putty in her hands. The way her hips snap to the beat of the song, how she oozes sexuality could bring the most dominant of men to his knees. She’s rocking a skimpy black bodysuit, thin strips of lacy material covering her breasts and between her legs.
I can’t take my eyes off her.
Soon, the lights go down and she leave the stage. As she appears through the curtain, I step back to let her pass. Paula reaches the bottom of the steps and winks. “Good luck out there, they’re a wild bunch tonight,” she says with a smile before continuing down the narrow corridor from where I just came.
I turn back to the stage and climb the steps, taking a deep breath before I step out as the heavy beat ofHard Liquorby SOHN begins to thump through the sound system. I’m greeted by catcalls and derogatory comments that make me sick to my stomach and I do my best to drown them out as the song begins
Here, the quiet, straight-A college girl doesn’t exist.Quinn Taylordoesn’t exist. I lower a metaphorical mask over my face and become another person. I use the layer of makeup on my face to hide who I really am in order to be the sexy, confident woman I need to be in order to do this. I have to, because I don’t think Quinn Taylor would have the guts to do what I’m doing.
After the song ends, I hurry off the stage, feeling a strong wave of nausea washing over me. The sickening feeling of bile rising in my throat, that weird tingling sensation working its way up the side of my throat and I race to the bathroom as quickly as I can in these ridiculous heels. I make it to the bathroom stall just in time for me to throw up the entire contents of my stomach, dry heaving until there’s nothing else to come out.
I lean back against the cubicle wall and stare at the ceiling, my heart pounding as I take long, slow breaths, trying to focus my mind on something else.
On something other than how my life has lead me here.
Chapter 4
Quinn
The sound of the alarm on my phone jolts me awake as it lays beside me on my pillow, the incessant beeping piercing my eardrums. I glance the screen, hit snooze, and roll over, pulling my pillow over my head as sleep drags me back under, but before I know it, I’m ripped from sleep once again by my alarm.
It's now eight thirty.
I let out a groan. I've only been asleep for four and a half hours and I feel like death.
Why the hell did I set my alarm this early?
I never set my alarm.
Something in the back of my mind tells me I’m forgetting something, but I can’t put my finger on it. I set my alarm for a reason, so what is it?
I crack open an eye and my gaze lands on the stack of college books in the corner of the room, that’s when it dawns on me.
Shit!
It’s the first day back at college and class starts in half an hour.
I throw back the covers and jump out of bed. I grab a handful of clothes and run to the bathroom, stripping out of my pyjamas and taking the quickest shower in history.
I can’t be late. I’ve never been late for anything in my life and I’m not about to start now.
