by Kim Jones
“You’re fucked up. What are you taking, Red? Look at you!” Because I have nothing to say, I keep my mouth shut. “Is someone in there?”
“Yes, Luke. I have company and you came at a really bad time. I’ll call you tomorrow?” My attempts at keeping him out of the apartment don’t work, and I wonder why I even tried. He easily pushes past me until he finds my bedroom and the man lying naked in my bed.
“Who the fuck is this?” Really?
“That’s Chip,” I say, wishing like hell I hadn’t just snorted that line. If only I’d have waited a little bit longer.
“Red!” Luke’s voice booms through the room and it’s almost like it hits me in slow motion. Shitttttttttt. I just want to be high. This is a really good one.
“What?” I feel him grab my arms, and I watch him as he searches for track marks. Nope honey, won’t find any of those. I follow him back to my room where he throws what I think are Chip’s pants at him before telling him in an eerily calm voice to get the fuck out. Chip looks at me and I repeat Luke’s words, only they’re not quite as mean. “You need to leave.” He mumbles something, and I think he calls me a bitch, but I’m not sure. The next few minutes are a blur, but I do remember seeing blood and someone lying unconscious at my feet. When I can’t make out the face of the man, I realize that maybe I’ve taken just a little too much this time.
I wake up in a hotel room which isn’t uncommon after a night of partying. Not remembering how I got here isn’t uncommon either. Usually when this happens, I don’t pick my brain for memories because I’m afraid of what I might find. But, the voices I hear tell me that this is a memory worth digging for. I recognize Luke and Corey’s voice, and eavesdrop on the conversation.
“How the hell could you have let this happen?” Luke is pissed, but his tone is low. Almost a whisper.
“What the fuck was I supposed to do, Luke? She’s a grown woman. You know what happens when you try to intervene.” Corey’s voice is full of regret and I feel myself sink further in to the mattress as the guilt lays heavy on top of me. I hear Luke sigh and envision him running his hand through his hair.
“She is not going to listen to me. She’s gonna push me away like she’s always done.” What a lying asshole. I’ve never pushed him away. If anything, I’ve always pulled Luke in closer. I want to sit up so I can scream at them, but the next voice I hear freezes me.
“What? Are y’all scared of her? Hell, I’ll take her home with me. I can get her off that shit.” Regg. Motherfuckin’, charmin’, smilin’ Regg. And I’m sure I look like shit. I open my eyes and realize that I am alone in the room. Another room adjoins this one and the door is halfway closed. That must be where they are. Slowly, I crawl out of bed, feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. I look down to find myself in Luke’s shirt and nothing else. I smell good too. Like soap. Shit. I probably threw up on someone. No, I bathed when I got off last night. Maybe. Hell, I can’t remember.
I open the door silently and slip out, pressing the elevator button harder than necessary. Soon, I’m in the hotel lobby wearing nothing but a t-shirt. But, it’s New Orleans and nobody gives me a second look. Lucky for me, a taxi is outside when I step into the cool mid-spring air. I slip in to the back seat and give the driver my address. If they ran into the street looking for me, I didn’t know. I never looked back.
I promise the driver payment if he will wait for me, and he does considering it is his only shot at getting any money. I find my apartment empty, and only the blood spattered sheets left as a reminder of last night. I pack a bag, grab my cash, throw on some clothes and write a note to Prissy before running back downstairs to the waiting cabbie. This time, I do look back. And as I wave goodbye to The Big Easy, I make myself a promise that I will never go back.
Chapter Five
Fancy Meeting You Here…With her
Three Months Ago
I knew the day would come. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I knew that one day, Pete’s would find someone younger and prettier to take my place. And not only was she here to take my place, but I was supposed to train her too.
“It’s just temporary, Red. Until you can get your shit together,” they told me. ‘They’ being the management team. I smiled about it, blaming it on the fact that they were jealous of my success. This new ‘Brittany’ hadn’t been offered to go to New Orleans to work in an establishment as nice as Lover’s Cabaret. But, I guess for Pete’s, she was enough. Oh, well. Out with the old and in with the new.
There was talk that I was struggling with my addiction. I’d fainted on stage and they blamed it on the drugs. In all reality, it was my blood sugar. I’m sure if they were to research my family history, they would find it was common. I’d also accused a few people of stealing my stuff. It was true, I just knew it. There was no way I snorted all that blow in one night. I’d trashed the dressing room and that earned me a week without pay.
But, just like they always did, they turned to their ‘go to’ girl when shit got busy. And that girl was none other than me, Red. As I dance, the saying ‘There’s no place like home’ has no greater meaning than right now. My fans, my stage, my home. This is where I belong. Not in some fancy strip joint in New Orleans, but here back at Pete’s with Lucy, Corey and the rest of the gang. The only thing I got out of New Orleans was a few extra bucks, a shitty lay and a lot of nights I don’t remember. Oh, and Heroin. That little jewel I couldn’t leave behind.
After rocking the entire room, earning double in one set what the other girls did all night, I figured I would be getting my job back. Brittany, being the sweetheart that she is, congratulates me on an awesome performance. I want to tell her to eat shit and die, but I refrain. To celebrate, the girls decide that I deserve a night on the town.
The Sunday following my kick-ass performance we decide to do something out of the norm for us. We didn’t want to go to another club, we wanted something a little more subtle and normal. So, dinner and a movie it is. Carmella, a veteran stripper just like me, and Lucy chose the restaurant, a bar and grill. Brittany-evil little bitch-chose the movie. A romantic comedy. I have a feeling I am gonna need an extra bump just to get me through without choking the shit outta her.
The girls pick me up from my house around six-thirty. Dressed in white jeans, rope wedge sandals and a sheer, neon pink sleeveless top, I am ready for my night on the town. Flipping my long, red hair over my shoulder, I take a minute to model for the girls when they tell me how amazing I look. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take extra care in getting dressed just to outshine Brittany. She still looks amazing in her black jean shorts and white blouse, but she doesn’t hold a candle to me.
I am three vodkas in when I notice the beautiful redhead walking hand in hand with none other than Devil’s Renegades Regg. I take a moment to take her in, noticing that she is about my height, my size and has long, red hair that she wears in waves down her back. Just like me. Is it a coincidence? Regg is dressed in a black Henley and jeans that are ripped from wear, not because he bought them like that. Something about this makes them even more sexy. His blonde hair sticks out of the sides of his plain, black cap, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in a few days. I watch the muscles in his forearms flex as he pulls a chair out for the girl before taking the seat across from her, putting his back to me.
“Red,” Lucy says, elbowing me to get my attention. “What the fuck? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Maybe in some way I have. Was this God’s way of telling me that the girl could have been me in a different life? I order another drink, forcing myself back into the conversation at the table. But, strip club gossip and talk of Justin, the new bartender, isn’t enough to keep me focused. My eyes wander back over to the table where Regg and that damn girl are sitting. I’m not jealous. Not even a little bit. For some reason, I’m just sad.
I duck my head under our table, pull out the small baggy and stuff a little powder under my long acrylic pinky nail. I inhale it, and then run my finger along the inside of the bag, g
athering a little residue before rubbing it over my gums. By the time I come back up, I feel the sadness leave. Now, I’m happy for Regg. I look over at the girl one more time, watching how her eyes light up when Regg talks to her. She seems nice enough, and I’m glad he found someone worthy of him.
To show off a little, I pick up the check, slapping down a hundred before anyone has time to object. It’s a fool move considering it’s my light bill money, but I don’t want Brittany to have any inkling of my struggles. Her gracious thank-you almost makes me want to puke, but I smile and wave it off like it’s no big deal.
We exit out the side door to smoke before the movie. Doing this allows me to avoid Regg and the feeling is bittersweet. I want him to see me, but because I don’t know what I would say, it is probably for the best that I steer clear of him.
“So, Red.” I roll my eyes before painting a smile on my face to see what the fuck it is Brittany has to say to me. “LLC. Reckon you could hook me up?” It takes everything I have in me not to smack the shit outta her. I feel the tension around us grow thick as Lucy focuses her attention on anything that isn’t us. Carmella, on the other hand, loves drama. She throws her hand on her hip, her dark hair swinging around her shoulder, as she waits to see if I need her to handle this shit for me. I shake my head and her full, red lips poke out on a pout. She loves going ‘hood’ on bitches. Or at least that’s what she always tells me. She also took a week without pay when she helped me destroy the dressing room, looking for my ‘stolen’ goods. She was a ride or die and I owed her one for it.
“Luke isn’t really the type to ‘hook up,’” I say, using my fingers to quote her words. It was a lie, of course. Luke is definitely the fuck em’ and leave em’ type, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Renee, a friend of mine, told me that his cock is huge. And he has this thing called a punishment fuck that leaves you walking funny for days. She says he’ll ruin you for any other guy.” She’s way too excited. I have to end this now. No way am I letting Luke fuck the girl who has taken my place on the billboard next to the “Welcome to Biloxi” sign. Or the girl who has replaced my sexy voice on the radio. Or the one who is slowly but surely taking all of my customers.
“First off, Renee is a slut. She’ll fuck anything. Second, Luke doesn’t hook-up with my co-workers and third, you’re really not his type.” Lies, lies, lies. Well, one of them is. Renee is a slut and Luke doesn’t hook up with my co-workers. But, Brittany is definitely his type. Long legs, long hair and a big mouth were the only credentials you need to fall in to bed with Devil’s Renegades LLC.
“Well, tell him I asked about him anyway. And let him know, that if he ain’t the hook-up type, I’m totally open to settling down with someone like him.” Brittany is a heartbreaker. It is written all over her. Even if I didn’t hate her, I would do everything in my power to keep her away from Luke. She is the kind of girl he could fall in love with. And then I’d have to kill her-which isn’t entirely a bad idea.
“I’ll let him know,” I lie, flicking the butt of my cigarette dangerously close to her pretty little feet.
“I say we go get our tickets,” Lucy, my lovely peacekeeping friend suggests. It’s the best idea I’ve heard all night.
Walking through the thick glass doors of the mall, I’m too invested in my conversation with Carmella to notice who is also standing in line to get tickets. But, like always, he makes his presence known whenever he’s around.
“Red?” Regg asks, pulling my attention to him and the girl wrapped around his arm. Damn, she’s pretty. His eyes move up and down my body, silently appreciating what he sees. When he reaches my face, I can’t help but beam at him.
“Hey Regg!” I say, my enthusiasm not the least bit forced. He pulls away from the girl to give me a tight hug.
“You look good. You ain’t tryin’ to get skinny on me, are ya?” I laugh at his words. I’ve lost a little weight, but hardly anyone has noticed. Considering I haven’t seen Regg in a couple of months, it figures that he would.
“Never!” I let him hold me at arm’s length, enjoying the way he looks at me, and the bubbles of excitement in my belly. He seems to remember where we are and releases me, turning to introduce me to his date.
“Red, this is my friend Taylor. Taylor, this is my friend Red.” I don’t like the way he said ‘friend’ about me or her. There was an underlying meaning to the term on both our parts. I flash a smile, taking her fragile hand that I could easily break. Judging by her handshake, this girl doesn’t have a backbone. I am sure that if she thought she could disappear, she would. She looks intimated. Good.
“Nice to meet you, Taylor. Watch out for this charmer. If you ain’t careful, you’ll be falling in love.” I wonder if Regg used that line on her like he did on me. Judging by his nervous laughter, he didn’t.
“It’s really nice to meet you too.” Her niceness is genuine and should have me feeling like shit for hating her. But, I don’t. For some reason, I can’t get the thought that it should be me with Regg out of my head.
“Red! Come the hell on before all the good seats are gone,” Carmella calls, pulling me back to the real world where I am a stripper out for a normal evening and Regg is a normal guy out doing normal shit with a normal girl who could probably offer him a hell of a lot more than I could.
“See ya around, Regg.” I give him a wink and he rewards me with that sexy ass smile of his.
“Be good, darlin’.” Darlin’. I wonder if he calls her darlin’. Probably not. He probably just calls her Taylor or ‘hey girl.’ This thought has me happy and leaving him with the comfort of knowing that the special word, is reserved only for me.
“You want some popcorn, darlin’?” You’ve got to be shittin’ me. Only five minutes have passed since I’ve seen them and now, here they stand, behind me in the food line. And he’s calling her darlin’. I want to throw this big ass, gut-busting coke that is sure to give me a kidney infection in his face. I want to order all the popcorn so him and ‘darlin’’ are forced to eat snowcaps and M&M’s. Chances are though; those are her two favorite things. I force a smile on my face and turn to look at the picture perfect couple.
Her arm is looped through his and his hands are shoved down in the pockets of his jeans. Damn, he looks good.
“You following me, Regg?” I ask, flirting like the psycho slut bitch I am.
“Always, babe.” Babe. We’re back to the formalities. Calling me babe is like calling me by my given name. Nothing special about that shit. I don’t respond, I just fake a laugh and saunter away, swinging my hips so hard I’m surprised I don’t knock one outta socket.
“Who is that guy?” Brittany asks, and really, she shouldn’t have. It’s enough that’s she’s taken the spotlight. Then, she wants to hang out with my friends. Then, she asks about Luke. Now, she wants to take the only thing that’s rightfully mine, but yet I don’t have. And if I can’t have him, nobody else will either. Except for maybe Taylor. I can’t do shit about her. Well, I could, but I’d probably go to jail.
“That guy is none of your fucking business,” I snap, earning me a look from both Lucy and Carmella. I stomp into the theatre, trudging my ass all the way to the back center seat. Lucy sits on my right, and Carmella takes the seat on my left, separating me from Brittany, or Top Cunt as I now plan to call her. When Regg and Taylor walk in, it’s too much for me to handle. Because I was on the last row, any seat they take is below me, forcing me to look at them. When he puts his arm around her shoulders, it’s my undoing. Without another word, I get up and leave.
I can’t make it to the bathroom fast enough and nearly rip a girl’s throat out when she tries to step into a stall before me. Luckily, I only have to shoot her a murderous glare and she throws her hands up and steps back in surrender. Once inside, I dig through my purse, pulling out my compact mirror and spilling the remaining cocaine out onto it. I need something stronger, but I won’t be getting my weekly supply until tomorrow, so this will have to do. I grab th
e pen from my purse, gutting it until I have nothing left but the plastic cylinder. I don’t measure out a line because there is no need. Even though there is plenty, it is never enough.
I flush the toilet, taking advantage of the loud noise to snort the powder from the mirror. By the time I leave the bathroom, I don’t care about Brittany, or Taylor. And I damn sure don’t give a shit about Devil’s Renegades Regg.
Chapter Six
Goodbye Angel, Hello Demons
Last week
“Red!” Shit.
“You’re up in five.”
“K.” One more dance. Just one more dance and then I can get the hell outta here. I tear through the endless supply of makeup, fake lashes and cosmetic jewelry covering my dressing table. It has to be here somewhere. I am still searching when Corey yells at me from the other room, notifying me of my two minute warning. Fuck it. I pull open my money drawer, sort through the bills until I find the straightest one with the least amount of ass sweat on it. I roll it tight, creating the perfect cylinder shaped straw, then lower my head to snort the line of powder that calls to me from the glass table top. Ahh… My guilty pleasure.
I stand, dab the corners of my eyes and grab my helmet. Before I step on stage, the numbness in my face starts to take effect. I can almost feel those tiny little endorphins dancing around in my brain. I picture them wearing Oompa Loompa costumes, their little legs working overtime to make sure they do their damndest to make me happy. I can’t help but smile at the thought. I love those little fuckers.
“It’s firefighter appreciation night, y’all. And we’ve saved the best for last. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the lovely Red.” The emcee’s announcement booms through the speakers, and the applause is deafening. They came here for a good show, and I’m a sure thing.