Chapter 2: Just do the darn job
Chapter Two.
Donovan was the club's manager. At 35, He'd been in the business for ten years before I came along and it's been two years for me now. Donovan was a kind and understanding man, the reason why I was always able to slip away from here whenever I wanted and avoid doing some shits that I didn't wanna do here.
"Hey, Don," Abby calls out, slipping next to him at the door "Kelsey was just looking for you!"
"Thank God, Kelsey, I need you back out now, "He said and I felt the anger rush into my face instantly.
"Okay, bye!"I barely heard Abby say before she disappeared from the door, leaving us alone.
"What? I can't come back out, I've had enough to do for the night and you know it" I told him annoyingly.
"God, Kelsey, stop making this any harder for me, please? You know many of the other girls are out for the night"
"That's The take? Okay, fine. I'll get a man to take me home for the night too if that's what it takes, "I heard him sigh but I continued anyway. "I'll just go get a man then!"
I'm gonna go mental if I give another man a lap dance for the night. Honestly, the last one wouldn't let me off his thighs until Sean came to my rescue! This job was rapidly becoming harder and harder with every passing day. I didn't know how much longer I could fight for my sanity in this hell building.
"Kelsey, listen to me," he reaches his hands over my shoulders "this is gonna be the last one and you can go back to serving drinks..."
And while doing that, I'm whistled and pulled down into several laps for a show. Just not tonight.
"Listen...Don...I can't take on for tonight. Am exhausted. My head feels like a freaking wrecking ball right now. I just need to go home"
He watches me for a moment then sighs and said "the man says he wants you to dance for him and that's it. Privately. Only dance, I told him that"
I wasn't so surprised. This wasn't the first time a man would wanna have a private service with a stripper. It's normal for every girl here and that's just one thing I can never avoid like I do the rest. If you've been pointed out by a man to dance privately for him, there's no running away from that.
"Donovan..." I mimic a crying voice.
"he already paid," he pressed further "and he's waiting in booth room seven. Just freshen up, wear something sexy, get his champagne from Paige at the bar, and go give him a freaking lap dance"
"Then I can go home"
The smile springs back to his handsome face "then you can go home"
I sighed in defeat "Alright"
After getting changed, I grabbed the champagne at the bar table and went into booth seven. As usual, it was some of those well-off men showcasing their little wealth with finely tailored suits. Like every other night, I did my job: display my dancing skills. Over the months Abby's efforts to teach me dancing have finally started to pay off. But that was just it, the deal is to give you a lap dance and that's all I ever allow myself to do, leaving the men satisfied. There's no kissing, no groping, and no sex. I'd made it clear enough that I wasn't a prostitute but a lap dancer and thankfully, they pretty much understood that thanks to Donovan though.
Unlike many other girls who would kiss their customers just to steam up their seducing skills, I never really cared. I never actually wanted that. That was a great violation of myself to me. Most of the time after getting the job done, I leave with a tip which I give to Donovan like we're all expected to do but tonight, like many other nights, he asked me to keep the tip.
I showered quickly, getting the man's cologne off my body before jumping into my faded blue jeans and black flats, pulling on my red hoody. Then I made my way out of the stripper house premises.
It was past midnight when I got to the apartment I shared with my father. I passed the security who quickly let me through.
My father had some liver problems. He was an alcoholic and was mostly violent so I always made sure not to wake him up whenever I decided to crash in in the middle of the night or late morning.
I slowly pushed the door open, as gently as I could but the sound of an empty bottle rumbling over, away from the door as I pushed made me shut my eyes tightly. I open my eyes again, pushing the door a little bit wider only to see my Dad's rocking chair backing me and facing the window. The room is still pitch black, thank God.
I gulped hard as I crouched down to get a hold of the bottle with my hand on the floor. After getting ahold of it, I set it aside and pushed the door wider to let myself in.
I reached for the light switch just beside the door and switched the light on, positive that my dad was probably sleeping in his bedroom but, boy was I wrong.
I saw his rocking chair turn around and his wrinkled eyes blinked at me. The apartment reeked of strong alcohol. It smelled like puke and it was slowly churning at my stomach.
He was drunk and his eyes looked bloodshot- also judging from the number of empty alcohol bottles littering every nook and corner of the room and on the center table.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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