by Xavier Neal
Her rules are not to be broken. Tried to warn you. See why I keep my mouth shut even to Syd? And I can see you scratching your head wondering how it’s okay to have sex during work hours, but not outside of them, and the simplest answer is, one of those Queen can keep contained and controlled. Sleeping with a client outside of the confines of The Castle threatens business and security on multiple levels.
“I have rules for a reason, Prince C.”
To protect the clients. To protect their anonymity. To protect us and ours.
“You have also been contracted for a private party on Friday night.”
Joy jumps onto my face.
Love private parties as much as bachelorette ones. Both always pay well and end early meaning I get to climb into Syd’s bed sooner rather than much later.
“The Sato twins are hosting a get together for their sorority sisters they haven’t seen in a couple years.”
Dismay quickly replaces the previous happiness.
No. No. No….
“They requested you by name.” Her eyebrows lower in displeasure. “Which is interesting to me since none of our clients are to ever know your real name.”
Dread drapes across my shoulders as my chi battles to stay centered. “Those are my girlfriend’s sisters, Queen.”
“I’m aware.”
Yeah, she knows like everything. Like maybe the government should hire her to help them find some of the criminals they’re looking for.
“We met for dinner last week and-”
“I’m aware.”
I nervously swallow.
“I’m also aware that Daniella has been skirting the edges of appropriate behavior for clients, and that you made the executive fucking decision to not tell me.”
My mouth bobs.
“Who. The. Fuck. Do you think you are to even try to keep that shit from me?”
“I-”
“I’m aware of her boundary issues where my business is concerned, and the company she works for that is considering firing her for sexual harassment. What I am not aware of is why you didn’t think I needed to know how she made it past security to leave panties on your windshield last week.”
Didn’t tell anyone to be fair. Not even Syd. And in my defense I didn’t know they were hers. I just…suspected. Don’t worry, I trashed them. Damn sure didn’t need that bad ju-ju.
Queen continues without response from me. “The Sato sisters are on wafer thin ice, and this is their absolute last opportunity to stay in my above the ground graces. I expect them to behave as trustworthy clients at this event. As punishment for not only attempting to keep information from me but putting me in a situation where it was my ruling versus Brock’s, I’m allowing this fucking request to go through.”
Vomit filters through my vocal chords.
“However, you are my primary concern. You are my fucking bread and butter. One of my Princes. Do you have a problem fulfilling the request because if so I am without a doubt certain I can find another way to get my point across.”
Yes! A thousand times across The Cosmos, yes! Major problem! You saw how they were drooling over me like a stoner in front of a bag of Cheetos. Can you imagine how many lines they’ll try to cross when they’re not under the watchful stare of The Castle?! When it’s just their word against mine?
Queen tilts her head up higher. “Do we have a problem, Prince C?”
I can’t tell her yes. I mean, I know I should, but I can’t. I don’t wanna see the disappointment on her face nor do I wanna feel like my job is in jeopardy, which I’m honestly feeling now with the hateful lecture I just received. No, I don’t love stripping nearly as much as I used to, but it’s still fun. It’s still easy. More importantly, it still allows for me to help provide for my girl, which she can’t always do.
“My patience is non fucking existent, Prince C.”
“No, Queen,” I rush to say. “There is no problem. I can handle the situation.”
Her face remains stoic, but there’s the tiniest flicker of something in her eyes.
“But, I am requesting permission to inform my girlfriend. She was upset when she found out I wouldn’t have been able to tell her, her sisters were members, even if I had known prior to the moment we met who they were.”
They don’t look anything like her. From face to frame they resemble their mother. Their features are similar in numerous ways and the only thing they share in common with Syd is the shade of brown skin.
“Permission granted.”
I stomp down the nagging need to object to the pending situation and curtly nod. “Thank you, Queen.”
She disregards the words of gratitude and sighs, “The address will be sent to your phone Friday morning. They’re expecting your gentleman routine. Be prepared.”
“Yes, Queen.”
“Dismissed.”
Without another word, I exit the room, mental agitation causing my soul to ache.
Dear Universe, I beg that Syd takes this better than she did when she found out they get to see me dance every weekend. I hate to admit it, but there’s unmistakable trepidation tearing through my system. Why do I feel like this job that has brought me so much joy is about to bring me so much pain?
14
Sydney
Today has been a fucking day. I don’t know why the Goddesses of Fate have condemned me for peeing in their Fruit Loops, but it wasn’t me! I wished they’d take their bad day out on someone else. You think I’m exaggerating? Oh, let me start at the top. My alarm didn’t go off to wake me up. I spent the night at Chance’s who has a tendency not to do laundry unless he has gone through all of his basketball shorts, meaning the clothes I do keep over there for work were indeed not clean. I also didn’t have time to shower, so I smelt like stale sweat and left over Chinese food for hours. Short on cash, so I had no money for lunch, and both sets of my grandparents were in foul moods. I also managed to misplace my car keys, drop my cell phone in the sink, and almost get hit by a car trying to cross back to my own. See what I mean?
After taking the stairs because the elevator is out of service, again, I arrive to see a pair of firefighters outside of Birdie’s door along with the building manager.
My feet can’t carry me over to the situation fast enough. “Buddy, is everything okay?! Is Birdie hurt?”
His dark, bushy eyebrows furrow. “Um….”
The lack of direct response has my heart racing. “Buddy….”
“There was smoke coming out of Birdie’s place, so someone called the fire department. When they got here, the oven was on with something burning in it.”
“And Birdie? Was she home?”
He slowly nods his plump face.
My hands fly to my mouth to catch the gasp.
“She had fallen asleep with the oven on, but according to the body people, you know the ones that can tell how long a corpse has been dead, she died in her sleep, not from smoke suffocation or whatever that shit is called.”
Sobs instantly spring free, barely being muffled by my hand.
She’s…she’s…she’s….
Buddy sucks his teeth. “You uh…you need a hug or something?”
I shake my head as more tears fall from my eyes.
He smacks his gums a second time and asks, “You uh…you sure?”
Ignoring his half-assed attempt at comforting, I continue to cry until my body is uncontrollably trembling. I melt against the wall near Birdie’s door and try to catch my breath.
One of the firefighters takes notice and makes his way over to me. “Miss, are you alright?”
Unable to say anything, I simply shake my head again.
“She’ll be fine,” Buddy brushes off. “What I need to know is how much damage this has done to that apartment. Dollars wise. And how long do you think it’ll be before I can put someone else in it?”
Such disregard for viewing Birdie like a person rather than just a rent check blurs my vision with additional tears.
He’s a monster. He�
��s always been a monster. James died on the first of the month, and he was threatening to throw Birdie out on the third for not having her check yet. A grieving fucking widow and he’s worried about cash?! Why is he so heartless? Why are people so cold sometimes?
“Sir, those are not questions I can answer.” Buddy mumbles something under his breath at the same time the firefighter lowers himself to a squat in front of me. “I’m sorry for your loss, miss.”
Sniffles accompany my meek agreement, “Me, too.”
“I lost a grandparent last year to an unexpected stroke. Came out of nowhere.”
I don’t correct his assumption about Birdie.
In ways she was like having an extra grandparent, but more importantly, she was a best friend.
“I understand what you’re going through.” He gives my arm a comforting squeeze. “Now is the time to be with other loved ones.”
Nodding at his point, I wipe away the tears on my cheek, and whisper, “Thank you.”
He winks, stands, and shakes his head at whatever question Buddy is bullying him to answer.
That…that was The Universe communicating to me just now. It wants me to go somewhere it knows I will find peace, somewhere it knows I will find comfort, somewhere that’s come to feel like a sanctuary in its own right.
Once I’ve managed to dry my eyes enough to drive, I rush back down to my car. The second I turn the key in the ignition a familiar unpleasant sound occurs.
Are you fucking kidding?!
I let out a huge huff and try it again only to receive the same result.
Knowing the dead battery sound like my least favorite pop song, I let out a sharp, frustrated squeal and beat the steering wheel. My hands pound to the same rhythm my heart is thrumming. I mercilessly wail on the round object, rage and sadness doing their best to be worked out of my system.
Two emotions I can’t handle, alongside jealousy. They’re the big three. Like if my emotions were versions of James Bond, they’d be Sean Connery, Pierce Bronson, and Daniel Craig. Everyone’s familiar with them whether they want to be or not.
After two more unnecessary tries to get my car to start, I take an Uber, promising myself it’s worth sparing the gas money.
Being with Chance is worth all the money in the world, you know this. I’d rather be broke and happy with him than rich and without.
I use my key to let myself in. Just having the object and the ability to use it eases the tiniest weight off my shoulder. However, as soon as I’ve crossed the threshold I can feel a tension in the air I’m not sure I can handle right now.
My eyes land on Chance who is coming around the corner. His body appears tense. He’s fidgeting with the bracelet I bought him. There are wrinkles on his forehead. A drabness to his usually blindingly, bright spirit.
“Hey, babe….”
Rather than spew my own heartache at him, I inquire about his. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Chance gives the side of his neck a squeeze.
The subtle sign is my least favorite.
It means he’s going to tell me something he doesn’t think I’m going to enjoy hearing.
He heads into the open kitchen. “You hungry?”
“No.”
“You sure?” He avoids eye contact, which only sends more worry down my spine. “I stopped by the market to grab stuff for zucchini boats, but it took longer than expected. The guy in front of me was telling me about this being his first time going grocery shopping in years because his wife always did it for him, but she left him, and he was tired of living off of beer and corn chips.”
Rambling to further distract from what it is he doesn’t wanna discuss….
“I ended up helping him out. You know, a healthy body is as important as a healthy mind.”
“Right.”
“Whole thing cut into what was going to be my cooking time. I’d be okay with us just going to grab something-”
“Not. Hungry.”
He lets out a heavy huff. “Are you really not hungry, or are you trying to pull that bullshit where you say you’re not hungry because you don’t wanna feel like you’re a leech? Because I’ve fucking told you time and time again, babe. It’s our food. I buy it for both of us.”
The ranting leaves an even more bitter taste in my mouth.
“What’d you have for lunch?”
I cautiously move towards the area he’s pacing in. “Chance, what is it you need to tell me?”
He gives his neck the squeeze again, but doesn’t answer.
“Chance.”
“It’d be better over dinner,” he pleads.
“Chance.”
“Bad news is best on a full stomach, babe. Not an empty one.”
“Look at me.”
His crystal blues meet mine to reveal a gray cloud I don’t recognize.
“What’s. Wrong?”
His entire face seems to quiver. “I have a private party on Friday night.”
The statement doesn’t seem reason to cause alarm. “You like those. Hell, I like those. You come home to me earlier.”
He leans against the counter. “Right.”
“You usually make us dessert protein shakes and curl up against me while I quote every line to Mission Impossible or Skyfall.”
“Right….”
“Do you not…like that routine anymore?”
“I do!”
“Should we switch movies? Wanting to change movies, Chance, is something I can handle. That’s easy! That’s-“
“It’s for your sisters!”
Those words knock the air out of my lungs.
“They requested me for some sorority shindig.”
Sweet God of Mercy, why are you gut checking me today?!
It takes several deep breaths before I can conjure up the courage to counter. “Are you allowed to say no? To decline? To pass? To throw someone else in the middle of this suck fest?!”
Chance hesitates to reply, “Technically, yes, but-”
“Then do it!” I shriek. “Say no! Tag team in one of the other dancers! Pass on this one, Chance!”
“Babe, telling my boss no isn’t easy nor something I want to do. It was fucking hard enough asking her to let me tell you, so I didn’t have to keep it a secret.”
“What? You want a fucking gold star for that?” My snap is more vicious than intended. I let out a slow deep exhale, in a desperate attempt to stop myself from spiraling. “Chance, please pass on this job. I have never asked you not to strip. I’m not even asking you to not strip now. I’m simply begging you not to do it for them.”
The turmoil in his eyes continues, yet it’s obvious this is a battle I’m going to lose. “I already agreed.”
“Without…even considering talking to me first?”
He confidently nods. “And Queen is not one who takes changes well. Her energy is borderline hostile when she’s happy. It becomes purely toxic when she’s pissed. Which she is already livid at me for mistakes that I’ve been making lately. For the sake of my job and my balls, I’d rather stay in her good graces.”
“What about staying in mine?”
“Babe-”
“No! Don’t babe me!” All the emotional stability I have shatters. “I’m absolutely fucking serious. You can’t do this. You cannot strip for them. Never for them!”
“I don’t get to pick the clients, Syd.”
“Yeah, well, as your girlfriend I’m forbidding you to do it!”
His eyebrows pinch together in anger. “Forbid me?”
The poor word choice leaves a foul taste on my tongue.
“You don’t get to tell me how to live my life!”
“I’m not telling you how to live your life; I’m telling you how to not live it!”
“Is this what fucking happens when you’re in a monogamous relationship? You think you can just fucking control the other person? That they have to do what you say and change who the fuck they are to please you?” He folds his arms firmly across his chest. “No
t happening. Not now. Not ever. I’ve never forbidden you from working all the time and taking little extra jobs even though I’m fucking terrified you’re gonna push yourself too hard and end up like your father!”
Chance’s words crush more than a boundary. They smash my spirit, wounding my animal guide in the process.
His body sulks, clearly aware of the consequence to his words, yet rather than attempt to undo them, he states, “Look, I love my job, Syd. And I’m gonna do it. Whatever day I’m told for whoever I’m told.”
My mouth moves to argue, but I stop myself.
What’s the point? It’s clear as day we’re not on the same path, that we don’t equally value each other’s opinions. I’d walk away from work in an instant if he asked, not because I don’t love what I do, because I love him more. And that’s the type of happily ever after I wanted, not this. This was happily temporary and now, like Birdie and my father’s life, it’s run its course.
I swallow the tears clinging to my throat and cross the short distance between us. With a pained smile, I place the silver object down on the counter beside him, rise to my toes, and place a small kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye, Chance.”
His voice trembles as it stumbles around to find the right words to stop me.
Knowing there’s nothing he can say at this point to change my mind, I simply turn on my heels and exit the apartment for the final time.
Like I told you. In my life, when it rains, there’s always a hurricane.
15
Chance
Another wave of nausea rolls around the pit of my stomach.
Never have I felt like this before a performance. I mean never. Not even my first one. Believe it or not Queen was really supportive of that first show. She never once looked at me with doubt or feared disappointment. Her confidence in me kicked my own up a notch. You think that’s what is happening here? Syd cursed my energy so now I’m sick to my stomach?
I exit the company car we’re assigned to use for private shows.
Safety precaution. Some women get a little obsessed and stalky as you know.
With one final adjustment to my loose black tie, I head for the front door of the mansion.