“Here you go.”
She breaks my appraisal of her body by thrusting my student ID card at me with another blush staining her cheeks.
I take it with a nod and grab my stack. I mumble at her to have a good day as I leave. It sucks that she’s sad but I don’t really know her and I’ve got a full plate right now so I push her devastated blue eyes from my mind and head for the door.
SAVY
Iarch my back and pop my ass as I bend over and drag my fingers up my fishnets while Lizzo’s Tempo thunders through the club. My neon pink wig flares out wide around the butterfly wings on my back when I do a slutty pirouette perfectly thanks to ten years of private ballet lessons. A small, secretive smile spreads my pink-stained lips under the half mask I’m wearing at the thought of my stepmother screeching in horror if she could see how I use all that training now. My hips swivel as I press against the bars of my cage and go down in a deep crouch, the micro mini barely covering the hot pink thong underneath it. I use the bars to pull myself up and blow a kiss to the men watching my every move from the nearest table and then flip my hair back and turn away from them like they’re nothing special.
Song after song, I lose myself to the beat and let the bass and lyrics wash away the pain of the last week. It’s only here, safe and protected behind my mask and wrapped with bars that I can let go of all my insecurities and be the woman I wish I could be. Here in this cage, I have the confidence to be anything I want.
I’ve been working as a go-go dancer at Masks since part way through my first freshman semester.
I had been walking across campus, lonely and lost – wondering why I had thought university would be different than high school. For some reason, I had believed that all I needed to do was get away from my perfect sister who was the queen of ev-er-y-thing at our school and I would have a chance to shine. Yeah, sure. Different school, different students…same damn me.
I almost tripped and fell when the music blasted out from everywhere and a flash mob of dancers had appeared as if by magic. I stood in awe as the women wearing masquerade masks strutted their stuff to the sexy music. I was mesmerized by their confident manner and effortless sexuality. When I dragged my eyes from the dancers and looked around to see every single male student and many female ones too, drooling over the dancers, I wanted to BE them with every fiber of my being.
As soon as the song was over, the dancers had spread out through the crowd handing out flyers for Masks, the club they all worked for. At the bottom of it was an open call for dancers. I clutched that paper to my chest like a lifeline and ran to my dorm room. It took me six tries to dial the number before I finally let the call go through and even then, my voice came out in a squeak when they answered and I asked if they were hiring. Two days later, wearing my pink ballet leotard, I chewed my bottom lip ragged as I stood in a line with twenty other girls all waiting for tryouts to begin.
As each girl went ahead of me, my chest got tighter and tighter at how outclassed I was. Those women oozed sex with every move of their routines. I shuffled closer and closer to the door until I finally couldn’t stand it anymore and bolted out. I slammed into the nearest washroom and barely made it to the toilet before I tossed up the little bit of food I had managed to force myself to eat that day. When I was finally done heaving, I rinsed my mouth from the tap and lifted defeated eyes to my reflection. I took in my perfectly wrapped bun and pristine costume and barked out a harsh laugh. Once more…not good enough.
The longer I stared at my reflection the angrier I got until I reached down and ripped a gaping hole in my tights. My fingers ripped and tore until my costume was barely hanging on to my body and then I dug into my bag, found a black scarf, and tied it around my hips like the tiniest skirt. I yanked my hair free from the neat bun and shook it out until my dark chestnut curls were wild around my face and shoulders and then just gripped the counter with white-knuckled fingers trying to psych myself up to go back out there and…try. The bathroom door banged open causing me to flinch and send a panicked look that way to meet the surprised gaze of one of the other dancers.
The woman was gorgeous with that effortless style that screams confidence and I wished for just a fraction of what she’s got.
“Wow, did not see that coming,” she laughs. “You look like a broken barbie doll that’s been played with hard and tossed aside. It’s a much better look than what you came in here with!”
I try and form words to reply but they can’t get past the ball of nerves lodged in my throat. Her amused expression softens as she walks closer to me.
“What about makeup? Do you have any?”
I shake my head as my breathing picks up. I…I can’t do this! This isn’t me. They will all just laugh if I try and be the kind of woman they’re looking for. I’m a thread away from snapping into pieces and rushing past her out the door when she places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
“You need to breathe. Suck in a deep one, girl.”
I do and then I do another and the tight ball in my chest unravels slightly.
“Good. Now, this is make-or-break time. Dig deep and decide. Do you want this? Do you want the job?”
My hands ball into fists. I do. I really, really do want it.
“Y-yeah. Yes, yes!” I tell her and get a nod and a smile in return.
“Alright, then. Let’s get you made up.”
She dumps her slouchy bag onto the counter and pulls out makeup. She opens a pallet of colors and studies my face briefly before nodding again.
“Yup, gonna make you fierce to match your shred. Straight-up black smudged all around your eyes with thick black lashes. Those baby blues of yours will pop!”
She goes to work painting me like a doll and I let her as a wash of gratitude flows through me.
“W-why are you helping me? Aren’t we competing for the same job?”
She tosses her blond waves over one shoulder with a snort.
“Sweetie, I am doing my job. I’m doing every woman’s job. Helping you up when you stumble. Instead of competing with each other, we need to start lifting each other. That’s how we all rise. Besides, they’re looking for four new girls, not just one.”
She turns me to face the mirror and I suck in a shocked breath at what I see. I do look fierce and my blue eyes look electric surrounded by all that smudged black.
