Distractions

by JL Brooks

  The name rolled off my tongue like honey. I hadn’t said it in so long. I remember I picked it in a hurry because “Sparkle” or “Tina” sounded too crazy and too plain. Some girls picked names of cities or flowers. I was always curious why someone chose the moniker they did.

  “She says her name is Starla.” More static came back loudly.

  “Holy shit, send her in. I’m at the bar.” Frankie seemed ecstatic that I was there.

  The girl nodded towards the doors and another security guard. “I assume you know where you’re going?”

  With a few more smacks of her gum, she went back to playing on her phone. Not even bothering to focus anymore on how badly I wanted to slap this dumb girl, I turned on my heels and headed into the cavernous room. Lasers danced from the rigs hooked above the catwalk stage. Brilliant lights twisted and turned in vivid patterns across the space. Small tables sprinkled the bottom floor while the mezzanine was lined with more tables that sat opposite from VIP booths reserved for special dances. A long dimly lit bar lined the wall to my right. There were two flights of steps on each side of the stage, leading to the dressing room and DJ booth behind it, with other flights of curved steps going up to the top level.

  Everything looked the same. Girls wandered to the patrons in small pieces of fabric covering their breasts and bottoms. A few were in the middle of doing dances. I knew most of the crowd was here for the contest. There were unfortunate boys who suckered their girlfriends into signing up, hoping for a quick shot at some easy money. Others were slightly older women with raised libidos, looking for kicks. Some were drug addicts hoping to find a sugar daddy or at least fund their habits. Then there were those who happened to be too naive for their own good and girls pretty enough with low self-esteem and ears sensitive to the seduction of the demon whispers.

  I walked to the end of the bar where I could see Frankie unloading a few bottles of vodka from a cardboard box onto the illuminated stands against the wall. The other bartenders were scrambling to get the servers orders filled, as the crowd of people grew larger. I leaned against the bar until he turned around. He knew I was here so it was only a moment.

  Frankie Pallatzo was probably in his late fifties now. He still had a thick head of pepper gray hair and a mustache with a goatee. He spoke with a thick New York accent. Gold rings were on almost all of his fingers, and you never wanted to piss him off. He must have felt my eyes burning into the back of his black and red bowling shirt as he turned around. With a grin that lit up his whole face, he shouted to the girl next to him who was pouring shots.

  “Take over – I’ll be back.” With her nodding in understanding, Frankie looked back at me and grabbed a bottle of Hendricks off the top shelf and two glasses, which he filled with ice.

  Ducking under the bar, he motioned for me to follow him up behind the stage. With the two-way mirrors, you couldn’t tell, but his office looked down on the entire floor. At any given time, he could see every girl, every patron, and all activities backstage, too. Frankie ran a tight ship. With the exception of the girl at the reception desk, nothing appeared different. The room was noticeably quieter once he shut the door. The windows still shook, but enough insulation was in the walls that I did not have to shout. He placed the glasses on his desk and reached his arms out widely for a hug.

  “Greet all your old girls like this, Frankie?” I asked with a smirk.

  His laugh was deep and genuine. “No, doll only those who make an impression.”

  With a quick wink, he made me feel a bit better. Pouring the gin into the glasses, I couldn’t wait to taste the smooth liquid as it flowed over my tongue and down my throat.

  “I am surprised you remembered I liked this.” I grinned and truly was shocked. He must have had thousands of girls walk through those doors.

  Handing me my glass, he clinked them together.

  “You know I wasn’t twenty-one, yet, right?”

  A knowing expression grew over his face as he let out a deep laugh “Like I said, an impression. Here’s to old friends.”

  “Gratzie,” I replied and then closed my eyes to drink deeply.

  He coughed to catch my attention. “So what do I owe the honor of this visit?” he asked while sitting on the long modern leather sofa and tapped the seat next to him.

  “I know you’re not here for a job, but oh how I would love to see you dance. And my girls, they would be walking on eggshells for months afterwards.”

  With a raised eyebrow, I took another sip. “Get me drunk enough and you might just get your wish.”

  A somber look came over his face. “What is it, baby doll?”

  You would think a man who ran this kind of business would not have a compassionate bone in his body, yet the two months I worked here, I managed to worm my way into his heart. Perhaps because I simply showed up, was sober, and made him a ton of money.

  “You know you told me that people come here because they are paying for an illusion? I’d like to buy a ticket, please.”

  He sat in contemplation, letting me have my moment. He understood, because I understood; there was nothing to say. He broke the silence with another chuckle. “So if I get you drunk enough, you would dance tonight?” The light returned in his eyes as they shifted over me.

  “Frankie, I don’t have anything to wear. And I’m certainly not showing off my tits!” I couldn’t help but grin in return.

  “Seriously, you know that isn’t an issue. I have enough booze to sedate an army, and a wardrobe full of clothes for you to pick something out. Please let this old man die happy.” I breathed out heavily, still laughing. “Starla, how about instead of watching the show, be the show tonight. Just one dance, for old time’s sake, and give these brats a run for their money.”

  I set my drink on the glass coffee table and stretched my arms above my head, looking at him as if he were crazy. His pupils dilated in anticipation of my answer. Maybe this is what I needed. I could forget, just for one night that everything was falling apart. I wouldn’t be completely naked. It would be just like at the beach, except with horny men screaming and throwing dollar bills at me. And there it was, the song of the siren playing in my ears, luring me into the dark waters.

  “Let’s do it!”

  The Madame was none too thrilled with Frankie’s hairball scheme, knowing she would be dealing with a house full of angry girls. She couldn’t contest his orders, so she gave me free reign over the costumes they sold. I had forgotten how comfortable a pair of four inch Lucite heels could be, and how damn sexy you feel walking in them. Since I wasn’t competing for the money, I chose a very simple black and white string bikini and a tight little sequined tube dress to cover up in. I had already flat ironed my long brown hair poker straight and had on enough makeup. A little gloss to catch the light and I was good to go.

  “You’re forgetting something”, the madam coughed while handing me a cheaply made garter belt.

  “Oh yes, the badge of whoredom, how silly of me,” I replied smartly.

  Ignoring my remark as if she didn’t hear me, I slipped the piece of lace up my leg.

  Feeling the ribbon crackle in my hand, a new thought surfaced in my mind. This was a modern day scarlet letter. This was why some women couldn’t ever move past this; they carry it as though it were really them and not just a bad choice. I knew how lucky I was. Even in this moment, the spark was still screaming at me.

  As I peered out from the stage entrance, I noticed a girl waiting for the contest, shaking in her boots. She was beautiful, but you could tell she was beyond freaked out. Her long blond hair was set into soft waves that tumbled down her back. She must have been around five foot two. Her eyes paced frantically around the room as she chewed on her nails, looking for direction.

  I gave Jimi the DJ a song I wanted to dance to, and since I was last, I had some time to kill. I decided to approach the girl who was now walking to sit up in the VIP area with a few other girls. She could not see me come up the stairs since her back was facing
me. I gently tapped her on the shoulder, which caused her to jump. I smiled brightly and reached out my hand.

  “Hey, I am Starla. I am doing a special dance tonight and I was hoping you could help me with it.”

  She looked around nervously while still holding onto my hand.

  “Me?” she whispered.

  I nodded approvingly and motioned for her to follow me. The other girls stared her down viciously at the special attention she was receiving.

  “What’s your name?” I yelled while walking down the steps, carefully holding onto the rail to prevent tumbling down.

  “Kinzey,” she shouted back.

  Leaning back slightly with a turned head, still making my way down, I yelled over my shoulder. “That’s your real name or your stage name?”

  She stopped and looked bewildered. “My real name, why?”

  I smiled and pulled her up to the DJ booth. “Jimi, cross Kinzey off the list.” They both instantly looked at me strangely.

  “What do you want your stage name to be? Don’t ever use your real name; you will have a life after this.”

  “Um, um, um.” Her eyes danced around hoping for inspiration to strike quickly.

  “Oh I know, Reese!”

  I pursed my lips together at the boring name then turned back to Jimi. “Put down Reese, please.”

  After he saluted us both, we walked back to another area of the floor closer to the ladies room where it was a little less packed, smiling and flirting with the boys along the way. I stopped to watch the girl who was currently on stage. I understood what Frankie meant now. There was no performance in how they moved. It was ass jiggle, strut, strut, squat for a dollar, shake your tits and the same routine again. Most of them also had personalities as dry as the Sahara desert. True, men were not looking for a rocket scientist, but if you couldn’t make them buy into the show, you were just wasting their money and losing out on making yours. My focus turned back to Reese.

  “How old are you?”

  Her fidgeting started again. “Eighteen, ma’am”.

  Blowing out a deep breath, I muttered, “Lord, help me!”

  “Look, I am going to have you do something very simple that will win you this contest. You are far prettier than any of the others tonight, and they have no idea what the hell they are doing. I just want one favor in return.”

  She was soaking in all the information I was giving her, eager to get her hands on some cash. “Yeah, what do I need to do?”

  “I am going to do my dance and at the end, I am going to give you a signal to walk towards the stage. I am going to lie down on my back and lift my head all the way so I can see behind me. You are going to have a dollar bill folded in your mouth, which you will pass to me like a kiss. We won’t actually touch lips. You need to hold your mouth there for a moment and take your hand and run it from my stomach up to my neck very slowly. It will drive the entire crowd wild. Smile and wave shyly at the men as you turn around to find your seat again. I will blow you a kiss, and that is it. Are you okay with that?”

  A huge smile covered her face, than dropped suddenly. “What if I don’t win?”

  Looking at her seriously, my heart broke. “I will personally give you the five hundred dollars. Either way, you must promise me to leave here tonight and never return. Whatever you are going through is temporary. Don’t add this to your list of issues.”

  I could see the tears well up in her eyes as my gaze held them steady. I knew Frankie would kill me if he knew I betrayed him like this, much less had girls bawling their eyes out in his club. I cracked the biggest smile I could muster and chirped.

  “Come on, let’s go. It’s show time!”

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs to cross on the mezzanine, which made it easier to get around. The place was getting packed wall to wall with people. I decided to be useful and stood at the bottom of the stage, assisting the girls up and down the stairs for their turns. Frankie was behind the bar, smiling like an idiot at me. I had only had one drink, the atmosphere being a different form of intoxication.

  Reese’s turn was up next. She chose an upbeat country song for her rotation. It was appropriate. I could see her confidence as she walked around the stage, doing small twirls. Nothing sexy, but the crowd was still eating her up. One more girl was on the roster before my turn. The adrenaline started to course through my veins. I needed a shot to calm my nerves, or maybe two. I was able to manage my footing quite well, despite the length of time it had been since I wore them last.

  Frankie came right over to me, asking what I needed.

  “Make it strong and make it quick. Your dreams are about to come true.”

  He grabbed his chest dramatically as if he were having a heart attack. I snapped my fingers together several times to emphasize my point. His staff was watching me warily as I treated their boss with such indifference. I am sure he would have questions to answer later, but right now, we were both enjoying the moment.

  He placed two large shot glasses in front of me. I scooted one towards him that he promptly pushed back. His finger wagged back and forth refusing the drink. Looking back into his eyes, he took a dramatic bow and went back to the guests. Knowing the end of the song was near, I quickly pounded both of them. The distinct taste of bourbon and oranges burned my throat as they went down.

  I gave myself fifteen minutes before they hit, which was good. My song was four minutes long and afterwards, I might be useless. Before I could walk away, Frankie had returned, placing a bottle of 151 and a lighter down in front of me.

  “I haven’t done this in forever, Frankie! You really want me blowing flames without practice? I am going to burn my fucking eyebrows off!”

  He leaned across the bar and motioned for me to come closer to him. “You also haven’t stepped foot in my club in over ten years and look how easy it all comes back. It’s still in you.”

  I didn’t know if I should feel confident or afraid of that statement…

  A small shiver slid down my back as I waited for Jimi to call my name. He pumped up the crowd, promising a special guest. The bass in the song I chose rippled through the building as it started. That was my cue. One of the guards held my hand as I walked up the steps to the stage. I sucked in a deep breath as bright lights focused down on me almost blindingly. The rest of the room was pitch-black, except for the back of the bar and the small candles flickering on the tables.

  The colored lights started to spin around the room as the beat grew more intense. My body tingled with electricity as I deliberately made my way down the catwalk with the bottle in hand. Walking slowly and seductively, raising my hands above my head and gyrating ever so slightly, I took a few sips. My hips rolled deeply to each side, my rear rising and lowering with the music.

  Halfway down the stage, I took a large mouthful of the scorching liquor and held it for the right moment. The room grew loud as the tempo quieted for a few seconds in preparation to enter into the next part of the track. The brief absence of sound was my indication to roll my thumb across the round wheel igniting the lighter. I counted the seconds in my head, inhaling deeply through my nose. 1.2.3… Blow!!!

  The blue flame cloud glided effortlessly into the air. I rolled my neck around slowly, pleased with my performance. A bouncer kept close watch and was waiting at my side to retrieve the bottle. Piercing whistles and shouts were nearly deafening as I continued down towards the bottom of the stage. My hands skimmed my stomach and rolled up over my breast, gently tugging on the straps to reveal the sides or the tops of them.

  It was amazing how easy it was to be Starla again. Frankie was right; she was merely sleeping inside of me. My eyes devoured the men they focused on and I licked my lips as if they were the only ones. I looked at Frankie and winked as a line of men walked up to place money in my garter. I dropped to my knees and painstakingly crawled towards them erotically. I imagined ropes of drool hanging from their mouths as they stood motionless.

  They quickly took notice that I
only paid attention to those who had larger denominations in their hands and reached into their wallets the closer I got. Knowing there was only a minute left, I gave the signal to Reese who squeezed in past the men for a spot at the foot of the stage. I leaned up on my toes and did a quick little dance for her, smiling the whole time in assurance this would work. She placed the dollar in her mouth as I was rolling over. Her execution was perfect and the crowd went nuts as I predicted. I blew Reese the promised kiss; she looked as if she too knew this was in the bag.

  I stood off to the side of the stage as the girls did another quick walk down and back. Eruptions of whistles and cat calls came when Reese took her place. I watched her blush and her eyes get big as she passed, and then I went back to counting the tips that I made during my dance. Two hundred and forty dollars for less than five minutes of work, damn...

  I headed into the dressing room to change back into my clothes during the judging. I came out just in time for Reese to be crowned winner and handed a check for five hundred dollars. Her garter was bursting now with bills from her winner’s walk. It was a fat chance she would take my advice now; I just really hoped she would. If someone had done that to me, I might have listened. My brain was growing fuzzy as I made my way towards the bar. I took advantage of an open seat near the foot of the stage. My feet were thankful to be in flat shoes and my ass happy to have the thong removed. As I waited for Frankie to come back and get me even more tanked, I felt a warm breath on my ear.

  “What’s a classy broad like you doing in a place like this?”

  I snapped around at the stranger’s voice, ready to give a shitty remark. My jaw dropped the moment I saw his face. The shots were kicking in and I was forced to squint my eyes and look closer just to be sure. “Fuck!” I looked at Frankie and gave him the middle finger; I knew this was his fault. There was no way Connor knew I was here tonight unless someone told him, and here he stood. Frankie placed two more shots in front of us, avoiding my glare at his deception.

  “He was only watching out for you; don’t be mad at him.”