“Repeat it back to me then, since you know it so well.”
Pablo was always quizzing me, like I didn’t stay up for hours studying this shit. But that’s just Pablo, paranoid and precise. He always wanted to make sure I was on my A game.
“My name is Royaal and I work at a few other clubs. Most are out of the city and I love doing stage shows”, I sighed annoyed.
“They don’t always ask for interviews, but sometimes they do. What’s the name of the clubs you worked at?” he asked unbothered.
“Cheetahs and Leopards, they’re in windsor. I like working out of town, but i’m looking to find something closer to home. It’s less of a commute, you know?” I said in the fakest tone I could muster up.
He gave me a look of approval, that made my inner thighs sweat. “And remember, don’t talk to nobody about our shit.”
I understood why he was so paranoid, considering pimping is illegal. But I couldn’t help feeling like he should know I wouldn’t do anything to fuck this up. I mean, he’s the one that helped me get here. I wouldn’t of even known about this world, if it wasn’t for him. And even though some would say maybe that would’ve been for the better, I don’t think that for one second.
Now I know how this looks, and I know what you’re thinking. Girl, why are you giving this man your money? And if you’re asking that, I also know you’re not apart of the game. I remember my first night stripping, I had on clear 6 inch pleasers heels, a black bikini from ardene with a matching little purse and I made $0. That man spoke the game into my ears, looked me dead in my face and asked me “how does living paycheck to paycheck feel? Remember that exact feeling everytime you’re paralyzed with fear. If the fear of talking to these tricks is bigger than the feeling of living paycheck to paycheck, go to your Zara shift tomorrow. If not, then we know where you’ll be.” The next day I made $400 in 5 hours, and Zara never seen their employee again.
Now i’m going to have to teach you the game, in order for you to understand my story. In this shit, you have to prove yourself. To your pimp, to your sisterwives, to your manager, to your customers, shit even to yourself. This a game of skill, strategy and finesse, and not in the way you’re thinking either.
I hopped up and reach to the backseat of the car to grab my work bag, hoping he’d notice my ass. “I gotchu when you come home.” He reaffirmed with my favourite smirk, while gripping my ass cheek.
Now don’t get me wrong, Pablo and I made love, but he was never very much into the PDA thing; most pimps aren’t. That’s how girls start to get confused, thinking their pimp is their boyfriend. Not me though I knew what it was, I loved Pablo but he was my pimp. We probably will end up being together when this done, but only because convenience. It’s hard to find love when you’re in the game, but even harder to find love once you’re out.
I popped open Pablo’s peanut interior bmw door and hopped out, putting on my best walk knowing he’s watching me. Right before he drives off, he rolls down the window and mouths “I blu you”. Something we came up with, that’s just our own, it’s different than love.
I open the heavy doors to the strip club and I’m immediately greeted with an array of aromas. The red strobe lights dance overtop the stripper on stage, as she slowly descends from the pole.
“Name?’ says the dj, interrupting my stare. “Royaal, with two a’s”, I respond back confidently. I had a whole speech prepared, but sometimes there’s so many girls that come and go. The dj’s usually can never keep up on whether you’re new or not.
“You worked here before?” he asked.
“Yup, like 4 and a half months ago or something like that. Honestly, I can barely keep up with time nowadays, it’s going so fast”, I flirted.
“You’re telling me! I came into work late today cause I set my alarm to am instead of pm. Today’s not my day man” he laughed, as he wrote my name and time I arrived down on a sheet. Strip club dj’s are the easiest men to influence, possibly more easier than the customers . Maybe it’s because majority of them are perverted cokeheads.
“Speaking of late, let me go get ready, cause i’m behind myself.”
“Yeah, no problem, go get ready and I’ll call you to come pick your songs. Apparently it’s been good since they opened and a party is suppose to come in tonight, so it should be a good night.”
“Baby, it’s always a good night for me”, I uttered as I walked away.
I walked towards the back of the club, where I figured the changerooms would be. I’ll be damned if I ask anyone that works here, and let them catch a clue it’s my first time at this club. Lucky for me, another stripper was walking in, so I just followed behind her. We walked behind the kitchen to a corner room, victoria secret perfume filled my nostrils. I scanned the shabby changeroom quickly for a vacant locker. I spotted one in the top left corner, “perfect”. I began to unpack my work bag and look for my outfit.
“What’s your name? I dont think i’ve seen you here before.”
I looked up, a bit surprised to see the strippers eyes locked onto me.
“My names Royaal, with two a’s and I worked here before like 4 months ago. But I haven’t been back and I don’t think I seen you when I was here, what’s your name?”
“You’re pretty…I feel like I would’ve remembered you, my name’s Ari.”
“Thank you babe, you’re fine yourself.”
And I wasn’t lying, she was fine as hell. She was around 5’6, petite build but had voluptuous breast and a heavy ass. She had long black hair, I could just tell her caramel coloured skin was as soft as a baby’s. She had these full lips, that made you wonder what they could do. A tiny cute nose, with light brown eyes, that felt like they were staring into your soul. She was a money maker for sure, I didn’t even have to see her on the floor. She kinda of reminded me of an older, lighter, more put together me. I could tell she’s been in the game for awhile.
“Thanks babe”, she replied back.
I started to put on my make-up and prepare for the night.
“You drink? I got some henny if you want a shot. But gotta do it now, before the other girls come. They always drinking off my shit”, she offered kindly.
Pablo’s rule is to not get drunk at work and trust me you don’t want to go into the car with a pimp that’s mad at you. He thinks i’ll get sloppy and won’t be on my A game. But he also underestimates me, and for some reason I kinda wanted to be this Ari girl’s friend. And not accepting the shot is kind of seen as disrespectful. Cause strippers don’t share their valuables, especially to girls they don’t know.
“I’ll take a shot still, i’m not really a drinker like that though”, I said grabbing the bottle and taking a shot.
“Down the hatch, or whatever tricks say! And girl, in this place we’re never what were pretending to be.” She flashed me a quick smile, before she tossed back one.
The night started off kinda slow, I had two customers and was sitting at $180. It was 9:48pm, and I figured I might as well freshen up now before the rush comes in. There were more girls, than when I first got there. But so far no real competition, other than Ari so I decided to go back to the changeroom.
“Great minds must think alike, cause we meet again bitch.” Ari grabs the small bottle of henny from out of her bag, and throw back a couple shots, before pushing the bottle my way.
“Fuck it, why not, one for fun and one for good luck. But bitchhh, where’s the people at?”, I griminced and wiped my mouth. We both looked at each other and started laughing.
“Ima need that party to come through pronto, mama needs more money. But honestly, if it’s not popping by 11, i’m leaving. Cause i’ve been here since the day shift and i’m suppose to go out with my man tonight.”
“Wait no, don’t go you’re the only reason I’m even kinda enjoying myself. I hope it gets popping, cause I have to stay either way.”
“Girl you came at 7pm, you can leave at 11pm, you only have to stay 4 hours.”
“Nah, my man doesn’t like when I leave early, and I don’t want any problems tonight”, I said throwing my hands in the air.
“Babbbe, tell me about it my man gives me problems too. But that’s why I try to do the day shift, cause then he can’t say anything. It was his idea to take me out tonight anyways, so he knows i’m obviously not going to stay till the end.”
“I get it, my man’s a workaholic so he’s always on road. And to be honest, I don’t want to stress him, it’s not that serious. So I just hug it, cause he’s getting money for us too and doesn’t complain. But speaking of getting money, I need to change outfits and get back on the floor. It’s 10pm already, that crowd should be rolling in just now.”
“Alright babe, well give me your snap just in case I do leave and don’t see you ever again. You know how this shit goes”, she chuckled.
“No for sure, club bathrooms ain’t got shit on strip club changerooms.”
She passed me her phone, with snapchat already open. I quickly put my username in, and accidentally slid up to the home screen. “Wait, who’s this?”
“Huh”, she turned and looks at me with a confused face, “who’s who?”
“This guy in your wallpaper holding the money? Who ‘s hand is this?” I asked kinda agitatedly.
“What the fuck, that’s my man. Why? Wait… How do you know his hand?”
Her eyes were telling a story, she didn’t intend to. Anger, confusion, disappointment, she couldn’t conceal it. I watched as she pieced together the puzzle in her head. “How do you know him?” she repeated stiffly. But I was too lost in my own thoughts to answer her…
Traffick’d 