I mumbled a quick apology, but he was already striding away, muttering something that sounded like "who the hell even hired this one?". A second later he was shouting at another girl about her fake tan, the question already forgotten.
Every instinct screamed at me to turn and run before the coordinator realized that no one had actually hired me, but I forced myself to walk over to the chair he’d pointed toward. He was drowning in chaos, so as long as I acted like I belonged here, he wouldn't have time to question it.
I removed my black cloak and tucked it underneath the seat with my phone wrapped inside. Then I sat down, picked up a tube of red lipstick, and swiped it on before glancing toward a nearby rack draped in costumes.
I rose, moving casually, as if I knew exactly what I was doing. My fingers brushed over the fabrics until I found one in my size, and I stripped off the rest of my clothes and replaced them with the barely-there costume. Once I was done, I found a pair of gold strappy heels in my size and slid into them.
Several masks rested on a counter beside the rack, delicate and gleaming. I lifted one carefully, heart pounding, and tied the ribbon behind my head. When I looked in the mirror, Ididn’t recognize myself. The mask had transformed me into just another anonymous body in gold.
That was exactly what I needed right now.
I straightened, looking around to see what the other girls were doing. At the far end of the room, a second doorway stood open, revealing a long hallway bathed in amber light. Many of the dancers were lining up there now, heels clicking in unison as they moved.
I slipped toward the edge of the room, careful to keep my movements smooth and unhurried. If I stayed with these girls, I’d be taken straight into the initiation ceremony. No sneaking, no climbing, no breaking in through windows. Front-row access, handed right to me.
Getting caught had turned out to be the best possible thing that could’ve happened to me tonight.
I fell into line at the very end. A brunette girl ahead of me turned around and peered at me, brown eyes lingering on my hair before moving to my chest and then back up again. “Kelly?” she whispered, head tilting. “I thought you said you don’t do these gigs.”
Whoever Kelly was, her hair and the lower half of her face apparently looked a lot like mine. “I changed my mind,” I whispered back to the girl. “I really need the money.”
“Good call. The tips last year werehuge,” she replied, rubbing her fingers together. “You won’t regret it.”
Before I could reply, the coordinator called out from the front, clapping his hands sharply. “Let’s go, ladies! It’s showtime.”
The line began to move.
We filed out of the dressing room and down a sweeping marble staircase, the music growing fainter with every step. At the bottom of the stairs stood a heavy wooden door.
The coordinator pulled it open, revealing a narrow stone passageway flickering with candlelight. The laughter and chatter that had filled the dressing room vanished instantly, replaced by a hushed, nervous silence.
“Keep moving,” a man’s voice barked from ahead.
The line shuffled forward. The corridor sloped downward, winding and twisting, with each turn revealing another fork. My sense of direction vanished within minutes.
We were in a labyrinth.
I forced myself to keep pace, eyes flicking from the carved walls—etched with vines, grapes, and strange figures that looked half-human, half-animal—to the others ahead of me. Their golden skirts shimmered in the light of the red candles mounted in iron sconces, and the sound of their heels against stone echoed endlessly, a hypnotic rhythm that made it hard to tell how long we’d been walking.
Finally, we emerged into a vast open space.
It was a huge underground chamber. Its ceiling arched high overhead, supported by hulking Corinthian columns, and blood-red candles lined the walls in dense clusters, their flames casting an eerie light throughout the space. Built into the center of the opposite wall was a raised platform lined with bronze braziers.
It was both breathtaking and terrifying.
“All right, ladies,” the coordinator called, his tone clipped. “The men will be arriving soon. You’ll remain along the outer perimeter until the ceremony concludes. No speaking. No wandering.”
He gestured toward the edges of the chamber, where a low stone ledge ran along the walls like a dais.
“When the ceremony ends, you’ll step down into the chamber and start circulating,” he went on. “Keep smiling at all times, and don’t show any attitude.”
One of the girls stuck her hand up. “Do we need to go to anyone in particular?”
The coordinator shook his head. “You take care of whoever shows interest in you,” he said. “Whatever they want, you give it to them. Pussy, mouth, hands, ass... no questions asked.”
My throat tightened as his words hit me. These women hadn’t been hired to dance at all. They were here for an entirely different form of entertainment, and now I was trapped amongst them, expected to do the same. If any of these men chose me… if they expected me to…
I couldn't finish the thought. Couldn't let myself spiral. I'd figure it out. I had to.
