Post by averiestardust on Jun 1, 2020 7:19:38 GMT -8
All the men come in these places
And the men are all the same
You don't look at their faces
And you don't ask their names
You don't think of them as human
You don't think of them at all
You keep your mind on the money
Keeping your eyes on the wall[/color]
Her steps felt heavy against the carpet, the same spots worn down to almost nothing more than the tacky backing that held it to the uneven and splintered floorboards underneath. Threadbare slippers wrapped around those tired feet as they shuffled against it, static almost crackling in the air about her. But Averie didn’t notice. There was a warm embrace of sheer exhaustion that hit her most mornings and it was like a distant lover, or an old friend. Always waiting for her, welcome or not. This morning was no different and as she tugged at the edges of her waffle cotton house coat, her head hung a little too far to the left, a yawn parting her plump pink lips as she huffed her way into a sigh.
The warm orange sun was just beginning to push her way through the nightly clouds and the bay window of the kitchen gave her a perfect view of the sunrise. A sight that is beautiful and invigorating maybe five times in your life, but when its now just than a daily occurence? A sun rise becomes nothing more than another reminder of the constant, unyielding battle to stay afloat. The sink was piled with dishes from the night before, grateful at least they had warmed up what she left them - as opposed to wasting the last few dollars in the ‘emergency’ jar atop the fridge on pizza again. Averie made her way to the sink and flicked on the faucet; it would be nice, she thought, if just once Kim took the initiative… But as was true of most teenagers, expecting her to think outside her own little world of melodramatics and boyfriends was just too much to ask.
Averie watched the sink slowly begin to fill. Watered down dish soap barely managing a few pathetic bubbles on the surface of the water before diapating entirely, right along with her hopes of getting anything achieved so early.. Or late, as it was for her. So instead, she padded back across the worn out grooves in the carpet, leaving behind yet another sunrise and made her way down the short, dark hallway. Their apartment wasn’t what you could call spacious. Kim, being the ‘eldest’ of her two siblings had staked claim to the only actual bedroom; her door adorned with threatening stickers to ‘keep out’ and other angst ridden messages. Averie’s lips quirked just a little at the corner, whilst others may lament in the emotionally driven world of teenage girls… the knowledge that Kim was getting a norma teen experience, that Kim was able to have the kind of childhood she had been denied, made Averie indescribably happy.
Just a little of the tired fog that hung heavy around her eyes lifted and Averie pressed her palm to the bedroom door, barely pushing it open and peeking inside. Sprawled on the small twin bed; pillows and blankets thrust to the floor, slept her baby sister. Small breathing sounds echoed around the room as Kim lay there, open mouthed and free to dream about her friends, her crushes and anything else that had happened the day before. As though she could sense her sanctuary being impeded upon; Kim let out a sleepy groan and flipped to her side, grasping for her phone that remained just out of reach on the beat up old dresser they had rescued from the curb a few months prior. Quickly, Averie shut the door once more and backed out into the hall, looking down towards the makeshift bedroom where Anderson was sleeping.
To call it a bedroom was laughable, it was no bigger than a closet and his stackle futon barely fit inside. But Anderson hadn’t complained, making the space his own he had done what Averie always did, he adapted. There was a pang of guilt that weighed heavy on her heart when she looked to that door. She had tried so hard not to lose the house. After things with their dad had gotten worse, she had picked up extra shifts and worked herself into the ground at that shitty little diner. After he died, she did what she had to do…
Billy was always coming into the diner trying to snake girls. Offering them prime hours and four times the tips they could make working at the diner. He made the Velvet Clam sound like a veritable paradise and, young and desperate as she was. Averie had finally agreed. His promises were true for the first few months; she made great tips and was left alone. The hours he gave her ensured prime ‘business man’ hours, since they were the big tippers and she didn’t even have to glance at the Champagne Room… But much like with anything too good to be true, so this was.
The gleam of her being the new toy wore off and her refusal for private dances and other services saw her begin to fall out of favour with the regulars. So, like she always had. She adapted. And that led her to be here now, even with the extra hours and the doubled tips, she couldn’t keep the house afloat and the neighbors were asking too many questions - they had begun to notice that she was gone all hours of the night and with Anderson being just nine; whispers of CPS had stung her ears in the local market, judging eyes piercing the back of her head as she dropped the few groceries she could afford into the mostly empty cart.
So, she adapted.
In the middle of the night she had dragged them both to the shitty apartment building, with neighbors too strung out or immersed in their own woes to care about who was (or wasn’t) watching the kids. It was what was best, but all the same as she hesitated by Anderson’s room she couldn’t help but wonder if she was being fair to them. She wanted them to know the happy childhood she had, until not quite ten years ago, that was. But instead, all they had known was fear and poverty and sickness. The kind of sickness that climbs into a loving fathers brain and turns him into a monster. Maybe she was being selfish; there was more to that thought but she didn’t have time to explore it when suddenly a loud THUD from behind the makeshift bedroom door swung her back into the present.
“Anderson?” Averie made her way to the door with surprising speed, swinging it open with a breath that hitched in her throat. She went from absolute nausea to stifled laughter in mere seconds. Anderson lay crumpled on the floor beside his futon, the less than five inch tumble hadn’t woken him, but the thud of his impact had been enough to terrify her in all of the fifteen seconds it took her to discover his fate. She thought about moving him back to bed, but thought better of it. They would have to get up for school soon and she decided he could use all the sleep he could get.
Closing the door softly behind her, she made her way down to the tiny family room that led off the kitchen; the pokey few feet by few feet space served as their dining room, living room and her bedroom. A Murphy bed hooked up to the wall meant she could squeeze a small two seater couch in there. The couch had seen better days and was another curbside rescue. The mustard yellow color was far from her favorite and loose threads pulled into small holes that anxious little fingers had picked and picked at until they became more like gaping holes than pin-prick ones. But, free was free and they had to learn to be grateful for what they could get.
Dropping down onto the couch, what little buoyancy that was left in the old couch caused her purse to tumble from the edge and hit the floor, spilling out her phone. She wasn’t allowed to check it at work and with the kids tucked up in bed, it wasn’t like anyone else would be contacting her anyway. Which is why the little blinking notifications caught her eye, scooping up her phone and bringing it into view she settled back against the couch, Tucking one aching leg under her, she frowned as she counted seven missed calls and voicemail; all from an unknown number.
A small sigh of relief that it wasn’t the bank, or some other debt collector looking for cash she just didn’t have; Averie unlocked her phone and thumbed the voicemail icon, lifting the handset to her ear. She recognised the old voice immediately. The rasp of a man who had smoked for forty or his fifty years on earth and was pleasantly plump from rich indulgence filled her ears. His usual slight accent sounded thick on the phone, but she made out his words just fine. The gentleman, if you were to call him that? Was a regular at the club and Averie or ’Stardust’ as he knew her, was his absolute favorite girl. Something he had no qualms in uttering against her ear when he had her all to himself.
Just how I like it. he would chuckle.
The words he spoke were in English, but it took her a good three or four times listening to the message to truly understand what he said. He had seen some tape of her, buried somewhere on the web he claimed and; in light of this discovery he had a proposition for her… All she had to do was want to make some fast cash.
And know how to take a hit.
I want to make a million dollars
I want to live out by the sea
Have a husband and some children
Yeah, I guess I want a family
All the men come in these places
And the men are all the same
You don't look at their faces
And you don't ask their names[/color]
The cold night air was a stark contrast to the heaving, muggy atmosphere of the club. Stardust, as she was known around here; tottered out onto the broken paving slabs and pushed her back up against the wall. A little black coat tied neatly at the waist was all the defense she had against the brisk night air; and all there was between prying eyes and what little that covered her dignity beneath it. Sultry tan stockings that held themselves up seemingly by magic hugged milky white thighs that disappeared beneath her jacket. Black stiletto heels designed to add eight or so inches to her height, balanced precariously on the uneven path as she dark red painted nails fished in her pocket for a cigarette.
Hanging the cancer stick between dark coated lips, she resumed her searching for a lighter when a spark in the darkness drew her attention; the flame danced back in her somehow still bright and youthful eyes as she drew a soothing drag of smoke into her lungs. She bobbed her head in thanks and took another drag as he watched her. The expelled smoke curled about her head and drifted up into the night air. There was something oddly alluring to the young girl who was the fancy of many a man at the club. At first, when he had been sent the footage, he wondered if she had a doppelganger or some other explanation for what he had seen.
But after her frantic call and press for information, he knew he had the right woman. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think about the money there was to be made; all he needed to do was put her in touch with a promoter and claim his cut. After all, there were plenty of sick fucks in the world who would pay good money to see a pretty little face like hers get fucked up.
She eyed him with well earned suspicion. Her lips pressed tight to the end of her cigarette to keep the bubbling array of questions from spilling from her lips. He wasn’t much to note in appearances, he looked almost like every other man who would frequent a club like this one; she had only remembered him for the way he smiled when they were alone. Almost commiting her schedule to memory in the beginning, he would never once leave the club without a private dance. In the early days when she was still nervous and tentative, the way he whispered those words against her cheek would haunt her well into her morning routine at home.
But now, he barely registered to her. Until tonight; until he had appeared as promised, with a way out. With a chance to make enough money to move them out of the shithole she called home. To offer a future to her siblings, a light at the end of the tunnel - even if the light was tinged with potential blood spill. It had to be better than this… Still she didn’t say anything, puffing on her cigarette as eager eyes tried to read anything but lust and greed in his own tired ones.
“Averie.” his voice was gravelled and repulsive as he used her real name. She could feel her skin recoil at the touch of his breath on her face. Leaning in close to inspect her as she tossed her cigarette to the ground. His boot heel extinguished it before she could and she suddenly found the unforgiving wall to feel somewhat like a cage, keeping her there, pressed close between him and it.
“I don’t know her…” Stardust’s own tone purred from her lips as they curved into a sultry smile. Her fingers dancing up the lapel of his designer suit jacket. His raspy chuckle pulled him closer as she inclined her head just a little too heavily to the left. Her eyes scanned the alleyway for a potential means of escape should she need it, but her hand never faltered; running over his chest and popping one of the buttons without so much of a glance.
Whatever words he had for her were silenced on his tongue; the visage of a young girl in too deep was quickly rushed from his mind as she played into his hunger. A game she had played a hundred times just this past week, he had no doubt. But an aging business man with a rounded gut and a spiteful wife at home could only find himself flattered by the playful yet coy attention she now lavished upon him.
He disgusted her, in every possible way there was to be physically disgusted by another human being, bile in her throat coated her words as she purred little things he would all but beg to hear her say again; this wasn’t what she had wanted, or how she had hoped things would go. But like always, Averie Stardust, adapted.
You don't think of them as human
You don't think of them at all
You keep your mind on the money
Keeping your eyes on the wall
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money
I'll do what you want me to do
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money
And any old music will do[/color]
And the men are all the same
You don't look at their faces
And you don't ask their names
You don't think of them as human
You don't think of them at all
You keep your mind on the money
Keeping your eyes on the wall[/color]
Her steps felt heavy against the carpet, the same spots worn down to almost nothing more than the tacky backing that held it to the uneven and splintered floorboards underneath. Threadbare slippers wrapped around those tired feet as they shuffled against it, static almost crackling in the air about her. But Averie didn’t notice. There was a warm embrace of sheer exhaustion that hit her most mornings and it was like a distant lover, or an old friend. Always waiting for her, welcome or not. This morning was no different and as she tugged at the edges of her waffle cotton house coat, her head hung a little too far to the left, a yawn parting her plump pink lips as she huffed her way into a sigh.
The warm orange sun was just beginning to push her way through the nightly clouds and the bay window of the kitchen gave her a perfect view of the sunrise. A sight that is beautiful and invigorating maybe five times in your life, but when its now just than a daily occurence? A sun rise becomes nothing more than another reminder of the constant, unyielding battle to stay afloat. The sink was piled with dishes from the night before, grateful at least they had warmed up what she left them - as opposed to wasting the last few dollars in the ‘emergency’ jar atop the fridge on pizza again. Averie made her way to the sink and flicked on the faucet; it would be nice, she thought, if just once Kim took the initiative… But as was true of most teenagers, expecting her to think outside her own little world of melodramatics and boyfriends was just too much to ask.
Averie watched the sink slowly begin to fill. Watered down dish soap barely managing a few pathetic bubbles on the surface of the water before diapating entirely, right along with her hopes of getting anything achieved so early.. Or late, as it was for her. So instead, she padded back across the worn out grooves in the carpet, leaving behind yet another sunrise and made her way down the short, dark hallway. Their apartment wasn’t what you could call spacious. Kim, being the ‘eldest’ of her two siblings had staked claim to the only actual bedroom; her door adorned with threatening stickers to ‘keep out’ and other angst ridden messages. Averie’s lips quirked just a little at the corner, whilst others may lament in the emotionally driven world of teenage girls… the knowledge that Kim was getting a norma teen experience, that Kim was able to have the kind of childhood she had been denied, made Averie indescribably happy.
Just a little of the tired fog that hung heavy around her eyes lifted and Averie pressed her palm to the bedroom door, barely pushing it open and peeking inside. Sprawled on the small twin bed; pillows and blankets thrust to the floor, slept her baby sister. Small breathing sounds echoed around the room as Kim lay there, open mouthed and free to dream about her friends, her crushes and anything else that had happened the day before. As though she could sense her sanctuary being impeded upon; Kim let out a sleepy groan and flipped to her side, grasping for her phone that remained just out of reach on the beat up old dresser they had rescued from the curb a few months prior. Quickly, Averie shut the door once more and backed out into the hall, looking down towards the makeshift bedroom where Anderson was sleeping.
To call it a bedroom was laughable, it was no bigger than a closet and his stackle futon barely fit inside. But Anderson hadn’t complained, making the space his own he had done what Averie always did, he adapted. There was a pang of guilt that weighed heavy on her heart when she looked to that door. She had tried so hard not to lose the house. After things with their dad had gotten worse, she had picked up extra shifts and worked herself into the ground at that shitty little diner. After he died, she did what she had to do…
Billy was always coming into the diner trying to snake girls. Offering them prime hours and four times the tips they could make working at the diner. He made the Velvet Clam sound like a veritable paradise and, young and desperate as she was. Averie had finally agreed. His promises were true for the first few months; she made great tips and was left alone. The hours he gave her ensured prime ‘business man’ hours, since they were the big tippers and she didn’t even have to glance at the Champagne Room… But much like with anything too good to be true, so this was.
The gleam of her being the new toy wore off and her refusal for private dances and other services saw her begin to fall out of favour with the regulars. So, like she always had. She adapted. And that led her to be here now, even with the extra hours and the doubled tips, she couldn’t keep the house afloat and the neighbors were asking too many questions - they had begun to notice that she was gone all hours of the night and with Anderson being just nine; whispers of CPS had stung her ears in the local market, judging eyes piercing the back of her head as she dropped the few groceries she could afford into the mostly empty cart.
So, she adapted.
In the middle of the night she had dragged them both to the shitty apartment building, with neighbors too strung out or immersed in their own woes to care about who was (or wasn’t) watching the kids. It was what was best, but all the same as she hesitated by Anderson’s room she couldn’t help but wonder if she was being fair to them. She wanted them to know the happy childhood she had, until not quite ten years ago, that was. But instead, all they had known was fear and poverty and sickness. The kind of sickness that climbs into a loving fathers brain and turns him into a monster. Maybe she was being selfish; there was more to that thought but she didn’t have time to explore it when suddenly a loud THUD from behind the makeshift bedroom door swung her back into the present.
“Anderson?” Averie made her way to the door with surprising speed, swinging it open with a breath that hitched in her throat. She went from absolute nausea to stifled laughter in mere seconds. Anderson lay crumpled on the floor beside his futon, the less than five inch tumble hadn’t woken him, but the thud of his impact had been enough to terrify her in all of the fifteen seconds it took her to discover his fate. She thought about moving him back to bed, but thought better of it. They would have to get up for school soon and she decided he could use all the sleep he could get.
Closing the door softly behind her, she made her way down to the tiny family room that led off the kitchen; the pokey few feet by few feet space served as their dining room, living room and her bedroom. A Murphy bed hooked up to the wall meant she could squeeze a small two seater couch in there. The couch had seen better days and was another curbside rescue. The mustard yellow color was far from her favorite and loose threads pulled into small holes that anxious little fingers had picked and picked at until they became more like gaping holes than pin-prick ones. But, free was free and they had to learn to be grateful for what they could get.
Dropping down onto the couch, what little buoyancy that was left in the old couch caused her purse to tumble from the edge and hit the floor, spilling out her phone. She wasn’t allowed to check it at work and with the kids tucked up in bed, it wasn’t like anyone else would be contacting her anyway. Which is why the little blinking notifications caught her eye, scooping up her phone and bringing it into view she settled back against the couch, Tucking one aching leg under her, she frowned as she counted seven missed calls and voicemail; all from an unknown number.
A small sigh of relief that it wasn’t the bank, or some other debt collector looking for cash she just didn’t have; Averie unlocked her phone and thumbed the voicemail icon, lifting the handset to her ear. She recognised the old voice immediately. The rasp of a man who had smoked for forty or his fifty years on earth and was pleasantly plump from rich indulgence filled her ears. His usual slight accent sounded thick on the phone, but she made out his words just fine. The gentleman, if you were to call him that? Was a regular at the club and Averie or ’Stardust’ as he knew her, was his absolute favorite girl. Something he had no qualms in uttering against her ear when he had her all to himself.
Just how I like it. he would chuckle.
The words he spoke were in English, but it took her a good three or four times listening to the message to truly understand what he said. He had seen some tape of her, buried somewhere on the web he claimed and; in light of this discovery he had a proposition for her… All she had to do was want to make some fast cash.
And know how to take a hit.
I want to make a million dollars
I want to live out by the sea
Have a husband and some children
Yeah, I guess I want a family
All the men come in these places
And the men are all the same
You don't look at their faces
And you don't ask their names[/color]
The cold night air was a stark contrast to the heaving, muggy atmosphere of the club. Stardust, as she was known around here; tottered out onto the broken paving slabs and pushed her back up against the wall. A little black coat tied neatly at the waist was all the defense she had against the brisk night air; and all there was between prying eyes and what little that covered her dignity beneath it. Sultry tan stockings that held themselves up seemingly by magic hugged milky white thighs that disappeared beneath her jacket. Black stiletto heels designed to add eight or so inches to her height, balanced precariously on the uneven path as she dark red painted nails fished in her pocket for a cigarette.
Hanging the cancer stick between dark coated lips, she resumed her searching for a lighter when a spark in the darkness drew her attention; the flame danced back in her somehow still bright and youthful eyes as she drew a soothing drag of smoke into her lungs. She bobbed her head in thanks and took another drag as he watched her. The expelled smoke curled about her head and drifted up into the night air. There was something oddly alluring to the young girl who was the fancy of many a man at the club. At first, when he had been sent the footage, he wondered if she had a doppelganger or some other explanation for what he had seen.
But after her frantic call and press for information, he knew he had the right woman. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but think about the money there was to be made; all he needed to do was put her in touch with a promoter and claim his cut. After all, there were plenty of sick fucks in the world who would pay good money to see a pretty little face like hers get fucked up.
She eyed him with well earned suspicion. Her lips pressed tight to the end of her cigarette to keep the bubbling array of questions from spilling from her lips. He wasn’t much to note in appearances, he looked almost like every other man who would frequent a club like this one; she had only remembered him for the way he smiled when they were alone. Almost commiting her schedule to memory in the beginning, he would never once leave the club without a private dance. In the early days when she was still nervous and tentative, the way he whispered those words against her cheek would haunt her well into her morning routine at home.
But now, he barely registered to her. Until tonight; until he had appeared as promised, with a way out. With a chance to make enough money to move them out of the shithole she called home. To offer a future to her siblings, a light at the end of the tunnel - even if the light was tinged with potential blood spill. It had to be better than this… Still she didn’t say anything, puffing on her cigarette as eager eyes tried to read anything but lust and greed in his own tired ones.
“Averie.” his voice was gravelled and repulsive as he used her real name. She could feel her skin recoil at the touch of his breath on her face. Leaning in close to inspect her as she tossed her cigarette to the ground. His boot heel extinguished it before she could and she suddenly found the unforgiving wall to feel somewhat like a cage, keeping her there, pressed close between him and it.
“I don’t know her…” Stardust’s own tone purred from her lips as they curved into a sultry smile. Her fingers dancing up the lapel of his designer suit jacket. His raspy chuckle pulled him closer as she inclined her head just a little too heavily to the left. Her eyes scanned the alleyway for a potential means of escape should she need it, but her hand never faltered; running over his chest and popping one of the buttons without so much of a glance.
Whatever words he had for her were silenced on his tongue; the visage of a young girl in too deep was quickly rushed from his mind as she played into his hunger. A game she had played a hundred times just this past week, he had no doubt. But an aging business man with a rounded gut and a spiteful wife at home could only find himself flattered by the playful yet coy attention she now lavished upon him.
He disgusted her, in every possible way there was to be physically disgusted by another human being, bile in her throat coated her words as she purred little things he would all but beg to hear her say again; this wasn’t what she had wanted, or how she had hoped things would go. But like always, Averie Stardust, adapted.
You don't think of them as human
You don't think of them at all
You keep your mind on the money
Keeping your eyes on the wall
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money
I'll do what you want me to do
I'm your private dancer, a dancer for money
And any old music will do[/color]
