Burning Ice - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

The click of my heels against the polished floor echoed through the empty hallway. I barely noticed it, focused more on the dull hum of the neon lights above and the familiar scent of cologne and cigarette smoke that clung to the air. The Velvet Room was empty for now, but that wouldn't last. It never did.
I didn't mind the quiet, though. It gave me time to breathe—time to prepare. At twenty-three, I'd learned how to wear my confidence like a second skin, but that didn't mean I didn't still feel the weight of the world pressing down. I was a long way from the life I imagined for myself. My mother's medical bills still haunted me, the mountain of debt almost as tall as the club's velvet curtains. But it wasn't just about surviving; it was about finding a way out.
No one tells you when you're younger that life's going to knock you down this hard. But you learn to get up.
I glanced at the clock as I walked past the dressing rooms. My shift was starting soon, and I wasn't the type to keep clients waiting. As the club filled up, the familiar buzz of energy would settle in, and that's when I'd shine. This wasn't just a job; it was survival.
After my mother's sudden death, I was left with her debts. I had no choice but to drop out of college and get a high paying job to get the government off my ass. My father, who spent most of his life in and out of prison was definitely no help. Hell, I'm not even sure if he knows his ex wife was dead. Why would he? We haven't seen him in almost 10 years. But that was probably for the better.
"Billie, you have 5 minutes" the assistant manager reminded me as she poked her head into the dressing room.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror as I passed, my hazel eyes catching the soft glow of the overhead lights. I wasn't one for vanity, but there was no denying that I had a certain look. My thick, curly hair, dyed a natural blonde now, fell in wild waves around my face. It was a contrast against my soft, bronzed skin, the color of coffee with just the right amount of cream, and my facial features were all me... dark and sharp, full lips, a straight nose with a diamond stud, and high cheekbones. People often said I had a touch of Beyoncé's look, though I never saw it myself. Still, I could see the beauty in my own reflection, even if it wasn't perfect. My curves fit my body like they were meant to, naturally toned but soft in all the right places. It was a look that got attention. Whether I wanted it or not.
But I wasn't just my looks. People saw what was on the surface, the girl with the pretty face and the body that turned heads. They didn't know the things I carried underneath. They didn't see the battles I fought just to make it through the day, the sacrifices I made just to survive.
Still, when I smiled at myself in the mirror, I saw the strength behind my eyes. It wasn't just about being pretty, it was about being real. And I was real.
The spotlight hits me like a warm embrace, casting everything in a halo of gold. The familiar pulse of the music fills the room, vibrating deep in my chest. It's a rhythm I know well, one I've moved to for years, and tonight, I'm not just performing, I'm commanding the room. Every pair of eyes on me is like fuel, feeding the fire inside me that burns brighter with each step.
I take a deep breath, letting the bass line pulse through me before I move, swaying my hips in time with the beat. My blonde curls bounce with every movement, the lights catching the edges of my hair like a halo. My body moves with fluid grace, my curvy frame sliding against the rhythm, each movement deliberate but effortless.
I know what they're thinking—everyone in this room. They want to see more. They want to touch, to possess, to claim. But they don't get that. They get me. Commanding and untouchable. I smile as I let the music take control, feeling the power I wield on this stage.
I push my thoughts aside, focusing on the music and the energy of the room. My movements become sharper, more seductive, pulling the audience in with every step. My hazel eyes lock with a man at the bar, and I see the desire in his gaze, but I don't give him the satisfaction of more than a fleeting look. I'm here for me, not for him.
The music rises, and I spin, my body twisting in a seamless, practiced motion, the fabric of my dress clinging to my curves. I can feel the heat from the crowd, their eyes on me, hungry, but I'm in control. The song reaches its peak, and so do I, every muscle in my body trained to work in perfect harmony, to put on a show that no one can forget. When the song ends, I stand there, chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, eyes sweeping across the room, feeling the lingering gaze of each person who watched me.
I step back, giving them one last look before I disappear into the shadows backstage. The music fades, but I can still feel the beat pulsing in my veins.
I would be lying if I said a part of me didn't hate myself for it. A natural part of me resents that I have to do this. That I have to use my body for money.
"Great show, as always" a close co worker of mine, Stasi, said as I went back to the dressing room.
"Thank you hun, you know I take all my inspiration from you" I wiggle my eyebrows at her through the mirror.
"As if. I know I've been doing this for 5 years but girl you make it look easy" she gushed as she applied another layer of lipstick.
"I wish it wasn't" I sighed as I started to take my heels off.
"Oh c'mon, you have to admit that it's a little fun? All the eyes on you? People so obsessed they just throw money at you?" She had a point.
"I can imagine worst things to do" I agreed.
I kept it professional here, as much as I could. I went on stage, preformed, and occasionally did some private dances if I really needed the money but typically I didn't have to resort to that, I could just ask to be put in VIP and be covered. I'm one of the most popular dancers here so management has no issue with allowing me to woo our top customers.
It was a pretty sweet gig if you took out all the stigmatism surrounding sex work. But I don't even really consider this sex work, I'm a dancer.
"Here's your portion from today" my manager handed me a white envelope with a check in it.
I wish I could keep all the cash, but 20% goes to the company so they count the cash and give me my portion in a form of a check. Any private dances I do, I get to keep all that money. And in VIP they only take 10%.
I opened it up, 550. Not bad but not great.
"Well, I'm out for the night" I told Stasi.
I had been here since 5pm and it's not nearly midnight now. Stasi was still here for another hour or so until we closed. My feet hurt and the fake lashes are itching my eyes.
"See you later" she chirped as I grabbed my bag. I had since put on some sweats to cover myself from the cold and scary night air.
I walked over to my silver 2018 Hyundai Elantra that has seen better days. It used to be my mom's car, it was paid off before she passed. It still sometimes smelled like her, cigarettes and cucumber melon body spray.
Driving home to my run down apartment was a short drive around the corner. Raleigh was a big city that sometimes didn't feel that big at all. I shared the space with a girl I barely knew. I met her through a mutual friend, she was renting out a room in here 2 bed, 1 bath apartment and I jumped at the offer, sight unseen. I just need someplace to stay that was in budget. It wasn't a new updated luxury apartment, it probably hadn't been update since the early 2000s with its dingy carpet, peeled up linoleum, horribly painted white cabinets and appliances nearly as old as me. I wasn't complaining, it was a place to stay. I had my own— small space and my roommate was quiet and stayed to herself. She was in school to be a nurse.
Stepping into my room I was greeted by my cat, Ted, he was an elderly hairless cat. Belonging to my mom, of course. I couldn't let him end up in a shelter even though I really couldn't afford to take care of him but I did my best and he's bought me a lot of comfort in my healing process.
"Hello, Mr. Ted. Are we hungry? I talked to him like he could understand me and sometimes it felt like he did.
I took care of him before I jumped in the cold shower, washing away all the dirt from today. Physically and mentally. After I pulled on a larger cotton shirt that I liked to sleep in, I jumped into my full sized bed with Ted right by my feet like he always is.
This was my life, how exciting.