“That drive felt extra long, I have to pee and not be in this car”, yawned French.
I stretched out my legs, swung open the door and hopped out onto the sidewalk. I walked toward the trunk, popped it open and grabbed the 2 suitcases that were stuffed in.
“Soo remember, Mike isn’t home yet he’s coming tomorrow. So that means we have this big, lovely loft to ourselves.” She threw her arms up in the air, gesturing toward the loft and then grabbed our bags from out of the backseat.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard this whole trip”, I said.
“Even better than when I surprised you with the oh henry bar?” She asked, fake confused and grinning.
We laughed and brought our stuff inside the grandiose loft. It had skinny black iron bars adorning the entrance, and brick trimming a large stoic door. The lobby had no concierge, but the exposed brick, ventilations and cement pillars were enough. The place was an interior designer’s dream, with all the different textures and angles. We strolled to the elevators, there were 4 floors including the PH which he lived on.
We walked to his door, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling.
“You still can’t remember the keypad code?” I asked, a bit shocked considering we’ve been here quite a bit now.
“Did you remember it?”, she turned her head and cracked a smile before typing in the numbers. The lock pad made a sound, flashed green and unlocked. French pushed open the door to one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen.
“I still can’t get use to this condo, it’s fucking beautiful”. I said as I walked into the entrance area.
It had two levels, 2 bedroom, 2 bathrooms, one office space and 20 foot ceilings. It was an immaculate corner unit and we had it all to ourselves tonight.
“It’s actually a loft condo”, French said sarcastically as she raced upstairs. “He said he was leaving us both an outfit, since he can’t take us out tonight. She was yelling from the ensuite bathroom.
I dropped my bag and left my suitcase on the gray woven mat at the front door. There was a large circular mirror hanging overtop a blood-coloured leather bench. Just beside it laid a door to the laundry room, and beside that was the living room. He filled it with eclectic pieces that all looked very expensive and somehow fit together. Winding elegant stairs overshadow the living room, exposing the wood flooring to the second level. Diagonal from the living room was the kitchen, its naked exhaust piping married the stainless steel appliances, white cabinets, and rustic aesthetic of the wood.
I walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge door, “there’s Moscato Myx’s! Like a whole bunch of them actually.” I laughed as I grabbed one and popped it open. They don’t make these in Canada and he knows they’re our favorite.
“Ahhhhhhhhhh”, sighed French as she released her pee. “Mike’s literally my favorite trick I ever had.”
“Mike is my favorite and he ain’t even my trick bro.” I chuckled, walking back over to grab my bag and suitcase. I brought them over to my room, I slept in the spare room when we’d come, it was on the main floor and had its own bathroom. It was nice but simple as fuck, it has a queen size bed that he decorated with a navy pinstripe duvet and small ikea looking nightstand. The 43′ tv was mounted on the wall, along with a black and white painting.
“Girlllll, you know you’re sleeping with me tonight right? So don’t get too comfortable down there”, French said as she walked down the stairs to grab her bags.
I didn’t mind sleeping with French in Mike’s bed, because he was truly never home. His bed was barely slept in, if it wasn’t for me and French he wouldn’t even be at this place really. “Bishhh, i’m sleeping with you right after I shower”, I said as I opened my bag and grabbed all my shower stuff.
She laughed, “and he bought us, a black onesie and red two piece”, she said, trying to bring her bags upstairs, thudding her suitcase against each step.
I grabbed my shower bag and walked over to the bathroom. I laid out my washroom materials and ran the hot water.
“What the fuck did I pack?”, she asked exhausted.
“How you’re a stripper, and have such weak upper body strength never ceases to amaze me”, I teased her.
“Shut up, not everyone can do the pole thing like you okay?” She sighed and pulled the suitcase up over the last step.
The view was even more insane than downstairs, because one side was all windows. It had a mini living room which held a small bar, which was located in front of the master bedroom and office. The view overlooked downtown Detroit. It didn’t look like the scary Detroit everybody has heard of and spoken about. It looked like nostalgia and had this eerie feeling of home.
She sat her bag and suitcase down and got ready for a shower of her own.
I finished in my shower, dried, oiled up and headed up to the second floor with my weed bag and phone. I went and jumped down on the king size bed, the fluffy duvet hugged me as I sunk down into the tempurpedic mattress. He bought a fluffy duvet just for French, cause that’s her favorite. He used to have this hotel style comforter on it before.
“Alright let’s take a nap for a few hours, grab something to eat and then go in for like 9pm?” French asked as she finally came out of the bathroom and started to put her stuff away. That was the taurus in her, she had to put everything where it belonged and everything belonged in a place.
“I’m down”, I said looking at the time on my phone, it was almost 1pm. “Ding Ding”, my text message alert went off, it was Bam. “I don’t know why I thought I could escape reality”, I said as I opened the message.
“What do you mean?”, French turned around and looked at me, “who is it?”
“Bam”, reading the message in my head. “He asked “Am. I. Good?”, I sighed. “Wellll, I was before I was thinking about all that shit.”
“Don’t even reply right now, you’re in a whole other country girl. These are roaming charges, let’s just forget about all type of charges right now. Let’s roll a spliff”, she said, walking over to me and joining me on the bed in fresh clothes.
I laughed, “you know what you’re right, not everyday stress myself out over dick. Here you go”, I grabbed my weed stuff and put it in her lap. “Roll it pleaseee”, I said, making that face that she loved.
“By us, I meant you, but fineee”, she rolled us a spliff. We threw on a netflix series and watched it until we knocked out.
“BUZZZ BUUZZ BUZZZ BUZZZ BUZZZ”, her alarm screamed at us to wake up.
I jumped out of my sleep, drool straddling my face “IM UP, im up, im uppp.” I murmured as I rubbed my eyes and tried to figure out what the fuck was happening.
“It’s timeee to shake some asss bishhhh”, French jumped up and headed towards her bags. She was dancing and looking for her favorite song to blast.
Rich Homie Quan’s voice filled the room, “did a lot of shit just to live this here lifestyleeeeee!”.
“Bitchhh, you gonna have to update your fave song someday soon!” I yelled.
We got ready and then headed on our way to work, The Pantheion Club was right off of Michigan ave by Oakman. It was one of the hottest clubs in Detroit, it was like a palace. It had 6 huge pillars leading to the big front door. And valet parking for the patrons to make sure no one could go outside and pop the trunk.
We pulled into the back of the parking lot, and parked in the designated staff area. We grabbed our bags and headed to the entrance. The parking lot already had a good amount of cars in it.
We walked into the club, signed in and headed to the changerooms. Inside was even more gorgeous, it had a huge center stage with two poles on either end. Vip booths lined the wall and an upscale bar stood in front of them.
We snuck downstairs to the changerooms. As soon as French opened the door, you could hear the voices of all the strippers downstairs yelling. French eyed an open spot on the counter and went and put her things down.
“I’ma say this one last time, if a bitch touches my fucking things again i’ll kill you. We clear?” She asked, waving around a pocket knife. She was a big mean looking chick that nobody was trying to fuck with.
“Okay, okay Peaches, we get it. Put that shit away now. Alright everyone, shows over go finish getting ready”, the house mom motioned everyone.
I was silent, but I knew French could feel me, the girls here do the most sometimes. You’re better off just not engaging and minding your business.
We finished getting ready and headed upstairs, I was wearing the red crystal fishnet two piece and French was wearing the black one. We walked onto the floor and threw a head nod to the Dj to let him know we were there. Out here, the DJ’s are the ones that you want to know cause they’re like the party promoters for the club. And they control who’s going on stage and to the best songs, cause it’s live.
“Those guys”, French leaned in and said to me in my ear. She pointed at three nigga’s bobbing their heads, sipping their drinks and talking.
“Let’s go”, I said as I walked over to them. Work is different with French, it’s different out here.
“Who comes to the strip club to have a deep conversation?” I teased and smiled at all of them.
“I mean it has to be someone’s birthday or something, right?” French assisted.
The one with the mouth full of gold laughed, “where y’all from, you got an accent?”
“Toronto, but you’re the one with an accent”, I flirted back.
“Turn around, lemme see something real quick”, his friend said, as he pulled out a spread of ones.
We bent over and grabbed our ankles and started putting on a show for lil’ homie and his friends. We were making a good little money pile till he tapped my thigh and said they were gonna head to the bar and to catch them later when more of their niggas came.
“Changeroom?”, French asked.
“Changeroom”, I agreed and started helping her put the money in our bag. I followed behind her toward the stairs.
We went back downstairs, quickly sorted the ones, freshened up and were back on the floor. It was around 1 am now and the club was packed. French and I made a bag and were dancing for this crew in the corner until the DJ called my name to the stage.
“Go and come back, I’ll sweep up what’s thrown”, she said as she nudged me towards the stage.
“Aight.”
I pushed my way through to the stage, with a lot of ‘excuse mes’ and ‘pardon mes’. There were 4 steps on the right side of the stage, I waited until the girl on the main pole got off.
“We got our Toronto baddie Royaal in the house, all the way from the 6 coming on the main pole. You know we have to show her some Detroit love now. And we got our in house fine ass, Peaches moving to the back stage”, the DJ announced over the mic.
I walked on the large oval stage and grabbed the pole. The black flooring was being lit up by all the red LED lights, lining the stage. I spun and rested the middle of my back against the pole and faced the crowd. I couldn’t see faces, just a small reflection of myself on stage in the mirror overtop the booths. I looked good, the lights overtop hit the crystals on my red fishnet outfit and created rainbows everywhere.
I snapped out of my trance and the music faded back in. Rich homie Quan tantalized my ears and I chuckled to myself. I twirled and twisted with the pole, bent my body and shook with the music. I was on the pole spinning and spinning and then money started to fall, like snowflakes out the sky. My head whipped around to try and see who was throwing it, and there he was standing at the front of the stage. Mouth full of white gold and diamonds, Cartier’s barely hiding the trouble in his eyes, smiling and looking like someone’s best sin. He threw a few more hands of ones down on the stage and motioned to come forward to him.
Traffick’d 