Forums

Meeting people is a part of my job. Being flirty and fun, giving them a glimpse of a fantasy, a tease of a dream, is what pays the bills. They know, as I do, that life isn’t really like that. But we both make pretend just long enough to imagine it’s real. That’s what I’m selling when I take off my clothes on the stage, when I flash a smile at the handsome gentleman in the business suit, at the lady with the bedroom eyes: an escape.

I just never expected to meet someone like Richard.

Someone who could make me, the great spinner of fantasies, believe in dreams come true.

I’d been living on the island my whole life, trapped in a way by my fear of the water. At the age of eight, I’d been swimming offshore with a friend, when suddenly she hadn’t been there any longer. I’d called her name but there had been no reply. With tears in my eyes, I’d splashed and spluttered back to the beach, shouting for help, and within minutes there was a search party. Kayleigh was found, alive, and that should have been the end of it. Except I never wanted to go back out there again. Just the sight of the azure ocean sent a shiver up my spine.

When I finished school, while my friends took jobs on the mainland I stayed behind, unable to face the idea of travelling across that water. Waitressing had paid a few bills, but then there had been the offer of better work, fewer hours, higher pay, and I’d jumped at it. I loved dancing, it made me feel alive.

All I had to do was also take my clothes off in front of a room full of strangers. Easy, right?

If I tell you I was nervous that first time, that would be the understatement of the year. Choosing my stage name was fun, pampering myself before the show was enjoyable, but when the MC announced me, Please give a warm welcome to our newest dancer, Star, I thought I was going to throw up.

Turns out, I was a natural. And I loved it.

Being admired like that was a buzz, and the pay… well, I’d never seen so much money for one evening’s work. Clubs like that have a reputation built on ignorance, but the Moonlight Room was anything but seedy. The clients were respectful, enjoying the show of course, but never taking it any further than that. They knew they weren’t allowed to touch, not without the dancer’s very clear permission, and they kept to their seats unless invited to tuck tips into a G-string or bra. The occasional bad apple was very swiftly dealt with by the bouncers, which was what happened with the guy who followed me home.

I’d seen him getting a little close to Vixen before I even went out there, and she muttered under her breath as she passed me on her way backstage. “Watch the asshole with the moustache or he’ll have his grubby fingers all over you.”