Chapter Text
Fuckfuckfuck I thought to myself. The campus grounds were bigger than they appeared in the pictures on the Internet. Hunching over the steering wheel of the black Cavalcade, my eyes narrowed to focus harder on finding a parking spot. The downpour weeping from the gray sky overhead was of no help either. Just as I switched the windshield wipers to a higher setting, a thin blonde scurried from around the corner of a bricked building. Maybe she was a student who could alleviate some of the confusion causing tension in my neck and shoulders...
I rolled down the passenger window with a push of a button to my left and called out to the woman. "Hey!"
"I'm not a prostitute!" she shouted back. I gasped.
"Oh, no!" I rolled the window the rest of the way down so maybe she would see my smile against the weather. "I could use some directions and it looks like you could use a ride!"
The blonde paused, letting the rain relentlessly pelt down on her bare head. A crack of lightning made her leap inches into the air before she splashed over. She clamored into the refuge that was my vehicle, wringing water from the ends of her yellow hair with a frown. I couldn't be bothered to complain about my upholstery.
"So much for a twenty-percent chance of rain, huh?" I tried being friendly instead. The woman's nose scrunched up as she looked her savior up and then down before hunkering down into the passenger seat.
"You're not gonna chop me up into tiny pieces and, like, eat me, are you?"
"That ain't my plan. I'm lookin' for the administration buildin' so I can register for classes or somethin'," I explained, gesturing to the mass of brick walls and buildings surrounding us.
"That accent... You're not from around here," she noted, edging closer to the door. I put up both my hands.
"I'm from the county but trust me, I wouldn't ruin my good French manicure on the likes of murderin' or kidnappin'. Relax," I suggested, agitation growing. Here I was, out of my element and trying to do a favor for a stranger only to be looked at like some probing alien. I caught the damp woman curiously peeking over at my manicure.
"Why would anyone voluntarily attend ULSA?" she went on in an airy tone. My heart dropped.
"Is it a bad school?" I quickly questioned. I was tired of making mistakes. Like the commercials belted out daily on television - furthering your education was supposed to make a difference, but if this place wasn't what I thought it was supposed to be, I wasn't sure what I would do instead. The passenger shook her head, starting to relax in the cushion.
"It's not bad. There just isn't any... class, or decent parties for that matter," she replied. No class or parties? So one of those kinds of chicks had hopped into my passenger seat. I shifted the car into Drive and started along the narrow road aligned with parked cars.
"Here's the main hall," she pointed at a three-story, maroon building. "Administration is through the front double doors, second room on your right. Actually, could you drop me off at my car? I can show you the main student parking lot that way."
"Alright..." I complied. I was wary of strangers but this girl didn't look like she'd ever been in a fight. I knew she couldn't hurt me.
"Left up here, then an immediate right. You'll know it when you see it," she gestured. Sure enough, a square lot sat adjacent to the school grounds. A wave of nerves washed over me when I noticed more Sports cars than Sedans or SUVs. My Cavalcade and I would fit in here exactly how I felt when I thought of my Blaine County life compared to where I was now. Hopefully, I wouldn't have to throat-punch anyone who thought they were better than everyone else. Or me.
I cringed as my passenger pointed to a yellow convertible in the corner of the lot.
"Shit! I forgot to let the top up before class. Daddy's gonna kill me!" she whined as she leaped from my vehicle just before I could snap into a parking spot. I followed her lead and hurried out to help manually raise the top. The sky's fat raindrops immediately drew a shiver and a groan from me. Her interior was drenched in a few inches of rain.
"You need a ride home?" I volunteered.
"Oh my gosh. Thank you! I... I didn't even get your name!" she shouted over a rumble of thunder. I beckoned for her to come back to my vehicle. We reclaimed our seats, teeth chattering and hair dripping.
"Jacquelyn, but most call me Jackie," I finally let out, extending a hand over the center console. She shook it and nodded.
"Tracey."
I nodded back before shifting gears and pulling away from the convertible. Poor girl. It would take a pretty penny for her to repair her car's interior the right way. I cringed at the thought, mentally re-familiarizing myself with the memories of desert dust and thunderstorms that lasted for hours, sometimes even whole days. Before I departed the county, the roof of my trailer used to leak and ruin just about everything I owned.
"Daddy?"
Tracey's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked over to find her cell phone pressed to her ear.
"May I please pretty please please PLEASE borrow some money to get my car fixed? ...I left the top down. Okay? Well, it wasn't supposed to rain today... How was I supposed to know? Fine then, don't. I'll just get Franklin's help. He's the reason I'm even in school... You don't mean that..."
I quit listening as some sort of burden of emotion began to slip into her tone. When daddy's girls didn't get what they wanted, daddy always wound up paying - one way or another. At least, that's what I assumed and took away from television and movies. It's not like I would know anything about it. My dad disappeared long before I could even distinguish a want from a need. This one was lucky.
"Left here," she pointed through the windshield. "No, daddy. I'm getting a ride from someone. Of course I'm safe. No, SHE is nice. No, you don't need her name. That's it! I'm telling mom!"
I shook my head and popped open the compartment between the both of us while we were idling at a red light.
"I'm gonna..." I shook my half-empty box of cigarettes in her direction.
"Go ahead," she urged with a nod. As I flicked my lighter, she hung up her phone and retrieved cigarettes of her own from her purse. I had to stop myself from nagging. Poor girl's car was flooded and I'm sure she needed that cigarette. Go right ahead. No need to ask. Cracking her window, she closed her eyes and exhaled after taking an exceptionally long drag.
"So what're you enrolling in?" she asked.
"I dunno. Maybe Accounting," I answered. I had always been a girl of numbers and proper management. It was part of what had gotten me into trouble and caused my migration down to the bustling city.
"I wish I knew what I was interested in. I do a bunch of theater shit. I want to be an entertainer. Take a right turn here," she explained. "My mom was one, so why not, right? This house here, through the gate."
As we approached, a tall, iron-wrought fence inched itself back so I could pull up the driveway.
"Nice house," I noted, impressed by the wide, two-story home. "Your mom must be a decent actress."
She laughed, popping open her door.
"Not even. She was a stripper. Daddy bought this. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you on campus," she concluded before closing the door and scurrying toward the mansion. I looked up at her home again before shaking my head and reversing down the driveway. Whatever her dad did for a living, I needed to get in on. Laughing to myself, I shook my head. I was getting along fine on my own. Asking for too much was another reason why I was here.
The large homes in Rockford Hills seemed just as marvelous in the pouring rain as I'm sure they looked when the sun was shining. Maybe I would cruise through the neighborhood on a better day. My phone's alarm vibrated twice in the cup holder. Helping Tracey had taken up more time than I had anticipated. I had to be at work in an hour and I still had to get dressed. I peeked in the rear-view mirror. My makeup and hair had to be done again as well.
A car horn sounded from behind me, making me jump in the seat. The green traffic light beamed down against the steady darkening sky. School registration would have to wait until tomorrow. I couldn't afford to be late and piss off Leon. There was no way I would find another job lenient enough to work only night shifts and go to school during the day. I wasn't one to be recognized either and after a solid year at the Vanilla Unicorn, I was doing well at not having my stage name called out anywhere except at the gentlemen's club.
Without warning, a black car cut me off. I mashed on the brake pedal and leaned on the horn as I stopped mere centimeters from the aggressive driver. I could barely make out the driver thrust a middle finger over their shoulder through their tinted window, but the passenger slapped the hand down.
"Fuck you!" I declared, jerking the wheel and speeding around the vehicle. The driver accelerated alongside me and then cut me off again.
"These fuckin' Los Santos drivers," I muttered. I dropped my speed, settling with a calmer attitude before my shift. Lo and behold, eventually the black car took a left turn and pulled into a parking spot outside my place of work. The driver's door popped open. I started to roll down my window and give the irritated-looking man a piece of mind but decided against it when the passenger door opened. I didn't like being outnumbered, so I kept driving, deciding to park on the opposite side of the building. Great. I might be the lucky girl that would have to serve those two pricks later. Cutting the engine, I picked up my phone and scrolled through a few Bleeter posts. I needed Prick #1 and Prick #2 preoccupied before I walked in. I wasn't in the mood for any altercations.
After a few minutes, I reached into the backseat to retrieve my duffel bag. The rain had slowed down just enough, so I took advantage of the situation and scurried around the outside of the club.
"Evening, Miss Jackie," the bouncer greeted from his spot against the cement wall.
"How you likin' the rain, Matt?" I greeted him with a smile. He pointed at the burgundy awning over his head.
"Thank fuck for this thing."
We shared a small chuckle before I pushed inside.
"I wish a fool would run up on me for wearing a hoodie!" a man proclaimed to his friend as I brushed past. Someone blew cigarette smoke over my head. Kelly Rowland's "Work" blasted through the loudspeakers. The bass line shook the walls. A group of men loudly laughed over their drinks at a table. I caught sight of one of the other dancers, Fufu, come sauntering down the stage just before I slipped through the silk curtains leading to the back of the club.
"About time. I thought we were gonna miss you tonight," Sapphire claimed, emerging from the hall that led to the stage and our manager's office.
"There is money to be made!" I announced, dropping my duffel on the cluttered counter and shimmying from my damp jacket.
"Hurry out. They're generous tonight," she explained.
"It's Friday! Someone's gotta start the weekend off right!" I called after her. Her faint laugh responded as she pushed through the door that led up front to the private dancing section.
Sighing, I plopped down on a stool in front of the wide mirror. Goodbye, Jacquelyn. It was time to be Cinnamon for the next six hours. I met my big brown eyes in the mirror and put a pout on my mouth. Once you got over the wandering eyes, the amount of skin on display, and handing over twenty-five percent of what you made for the night over to Leon, working here wasn't bad. Drinks were expensive, private dances were even more expensive, and I wouldn't eat the food they served here if my life depended on it, but it was all a part of something bigger that no one could understand unless they were part of the staff themselves.
I stood and peeled off my jeans and cotton underwear. I smeared white tea body oil all over my legs before stepping into a G-string and a pair of strappy, black stilettos with a heel thin enough to make any fashion model wince. I lifted my shirt over my head and then slipped into a fire engine red, lace bralette. It hugged my breasts and tied in the back with a faux bow similar to the kinds parents pressed against Christmas gifts. I tossed my clothes into the duffel and pulled out my makeup kit. The door behind me burst open and Infernus came rushing to the dressing rack.
"Don't say shit," she panted, dropping her bookbag and hurriedly pulling at her clothes.
"I won't," I smirked. I sat back on the stool and began to apply eyeliner.
"My boyfriend and my sugar daddy finally found out about each other, today of all days, and got into a fucking fistfight right there in my condo," she explained. "LSPD are shit at handling domestic violence."
"Look at us. I don't see how you manage relationships, period," I replied, leaning back from the mirror and toying with my cleavage as one of my nipples tried slipping loose.
"It's not hard and it's got nothing to do with being a stripper. Your crazy ass just needs some schooling," she remarked.
"Schoolin'?" I scoffed. She nodded, sitting on the floor to wriggle into a pair of knee-high leather heels.
"You know what I'm talking about," she shot me a knowing look. "Someone needs to grab you by the horns and ride that bull till it taps out."
"Bullshit, shut up," I shot back, cheeks burning. I had been good since I relocated to Los Santos. I needed the change. There was too much I was trying to leave behind in the county for me to start that cycle up all over again in the city. She wasn't wrong, but I was trying to be on my best behavior. Even if that meant shaking my scantily clad ass to keep the lights on.
"Help me up?" she requested, wringing her hands over her shoulders. I pushed away from the counter and hoisted her from the dingy floor just as the music faltered slightly.
"Up next, we got a club favorite..." the DJ started up. Fufu pushed through the curtains and quietly sauntered through the dressing room toward the front of the club.
"...Give it up for Infernus!" the DJ announced. My coworker scurried down the hall and up the few stairs leading to the stage, pausing just behind the thick curtain for a moment to compose herself. I felt the atmosphere swell as Amerie's "1 Thing" started playing and she disappeared beyond the curtain. A club favorite was an understatement. Infernus was employee of the month...for the past three months. I wasn't sure if it had anything to do with the fact she took clients home or because she could do a split on the ceiling, but she was what I think I aspired to be as an "exotic dancer".
After zipping my duffel and tossing it in the corner, I made my way back into the open floor of the sweltering club.
"Hello, gorgeous."
I looked over my shoulder to find the irritated-looking man who had shot me the bird leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket and a stiff drink in the other. Unable to tell if he recognized me, I played nice.
"Hey, handsome. How you doin' tonight?" I approached him, gently pushing my chest against his arm. He smiled and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. I had never met a man who wore a full suit to the Vanilla Unicorn unless he was talking business with Leon or looking to take someone home. Hopefully, he was looking for Leon because I was a tough cookie to crack.
"Not too bad. How are you?" he answered without removing the cigarette from between his thin lips.
"She's fine, I'll tell ya," came a voice from right behind me. I turned around to the newcomer. Despite our dim surroundings, his eyes shone as he caught me in his sights.
"My my my. Two for one?" I suggested with a small laugh. The one in the suit opened his mouth to say something, but the one with the crazy eyes spoke first.
"Just one. You don't want him, sugar. He's married," he remarked. I looked down at the man's hand and found the gold band around his finger. I shot them both a soft smile.
"You his husband?" I joked. The suited one laughed from somewhere in his gut.
"Hardy har. Is that how you get your clients?" wild eyes asked, visibly taken back by my remark.
"Is this how you get your women?" I shot back, sauntering away. I had a floor to work. I never understood men who came in here to hold hands with their best friends. Didn't they understand this was a business and I was a working employee?
The one with the eyes meandered alongside me as I slowly waltzed around the floor, making sure I was seen.
"How 'bout a dance? Just you and me? We can leave Michael out here," he suggested. His backwoods drawl made me remember home.
"Where are you from?" I immediately asked, ignoring his request.
"...where are you from?" he responded, leaning back slightly. I looked him up and down.
"Maybe I'll tell you later," I answered, sending a wink his way. Clad in a wrinkled white V-neck and stained sweatpants over snakeskin boots, he stood out about as much as his friend did, but he had an air about him that made me want to ask what he did for fun or why he felt it was acceptable to leave the house looking like that.
"Are you flirtin' with me?" he asked, an incredulous look spreading over his face. I smirked, biting my bottom lip.
"Who knows?"
"What kind of daddy issues you got the reason you're workin' here, cuttin' out pieces of Uncle T to savor for later, hm?"
The low blows that he thought were high never quit from this one. It would be a long night if I couldn't shake him off or break my normal routine and take him home. I hummed.
"I don't know who my daddy is if that's a valid enough issue for you."
"Sometimes it's best to not know than to know. Trust me," he grumbled.
"Oh, you're a prophet?" I mocked. His eyes narrowed at me and I felt significantly small under his wild, amber gaze.
"I don't know if I like your mouth," he grumbled.
"It's not yours to like," I fired back then flashed a coy grin. "What are you gonna do? Punish me?"
"I don't know if it counts as punishment if you wind up likin' it," he taunted. A low rumble mused its way out of his chest and into his throat, milking a shiver out of me. I looked him up and down again then continued making my rounds around the club. I could feel his eyes on me from his spot at the top of the stairs, but I was used to such solicitation. Walking around the club with little to no clothes on and feeling empowered around lust-filled men had become second nature to me and my coworkers.
This one was different, however. Beneath his gaze, I felt calculated and anticipated. It felt like those documentaries with a lion watching a gazelle, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
"You got everything you need, honey?" I asked a new man as I leaned over close so he could hear me over the thumping music. He shook his head and beckoned me closer with a wave of his hand. As I leaned over his table, he wrapped an arm around my lower back and pulled me down into his lap.
"Oh ho! Now I'm good!" he cheerily claimed. I squirmed in his lap, struggling to break from his embrace. He groped my breasts and I grimaced.
"You gotta pay extra for that, bud," I warned with a roll of my eyes.
"I got all the money you need, baby. Just let me see what you got going on first and we can go from there..." One of his hands slipped between my legs and I instinctively elbowed him in the throat. The man gagged and then stumbled to his feet, throwing my body onto the carpet. Before I could recover, I took a swift kick to the ribs. Groaning and biting back the urge to retch, I curled into a ball.
"Hey! Ain't your mother ever told you to play nice? You don't go puttin' yer hands on a lady!" Wild Eye's voice declared before I heard glass breaking. The man who had thrown me down, and I assumed kicked me as well, landed on the carpet beside me. He was wailing into his hands, blood seeping through his fingers. Fufu scampered over and helped me to my feet.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Uh-huh," I held on to my side and grit my teeth together.
"Aye! We need security over here!" the DJ ordered over the speakers, only pausing the music for a second to make his announcement. Two of our guards trotted over. One grabbed Wild Eyes and started tugging him away from the altercation. His friend in the suit wasted no time following. The other guard grabbed my assaulter up from the floor and started dragging him away.
Leon came storming through the purple curtains that separated the club from the private dancers and our dressing room.
"What's up? What's happened?" he impatiently questioned with a snap of his thick fingers.
"Some chump just got a little too friendly. It's alright," I explained. I couldn't hide a wince as I pulled away from Fufu.
"You sure you're okay?" she pried.
"I'm fine," I reassured her, wincing again as I barely staggered in the stilettos. Leon noisily chewed his gum and rubbed at the stubble on his face.
"You and I both know I can't have you limping and making rounds. What kinda establishment am I running here, hm?" he asked. My heart dropped.
"No, Leon. I'm fine. I promise. I'm on stage next. I've got it."
"Bullshit," he took my arm and shook his head. We both peered down at the bruise quickly making its presence known on my left side. I groaned.
"You're not working anything till that bad boy is gone, Cinnamon. Phone up Cheetah," he ordered. I stomped a stiletto and whined.
"Give it two days then send me a picture. If it ain't faded, you're taking a week. I don't need any social workers in here inspecting the conditions like I'm working some sorta sweatshop. You like your job, don't you?"
I sighed as he started his speech. "Yes, I like my job."
"If you wanna keep it, do as I said. There are plenty of desperate girls out there who would kill to be in your spot right now, not because they enjoy it but because they need it. Get dressed and go home, Jacquelyn. I ain't arguing with you tonight."
"Yes, Leon," I answered sweetly, forcing a smile. When he turned away, I scowled.
"This club isn't going anywhere," Sapphire told me as she stepped up. "So long as men and women are looking for love in the wrong places, we'll be fine. Call me if you need anything. Go rest, sweetie."
"Ugh. Not you too," I turned and slowly started toward the back. Sapphire approached the DJ booth to tell him about our schedule change.
Once in the back, I lowered myself onto the stool and sighed. Not a dime earned. I hadn't had a night like tonight since I first started working the Vanilla Unicorn last year. Not a single fucking dime. I propped my elbows on the counter before me and held my face in my hands, purposefully smearing my eyeliner. Not only would I probably come up short on money for registration, but who knew how expensive books were? ...maybe that Tracey girl I picked up would have the same textbooks? I groaned out loud. No. She was in theater and she didn't seem like the Business or Calculus type.
Slowly drawing in a deep breath that made my sore ribs ache, I pulled it all together and changed back into my regular clothes. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and stepped into my tennis shoes. My jacket was still damp from the rain against my shirt. Could this night get even worse? I stopped in my tracks just before I left the dressing room. Yeah. It could get a lot worse. I still had a place to stay and food in my refrigerator. I wasn't going to bed hungry anymore. I wasn't working that sandy, stale bar anymore. I wasn't being hunted anymore.
"You're bruised and your pockets are empty tonight, but you're fine," I reassured myself then pushed my way back through the club. I had been inside barely an hour, but the sun was already set and the night's cool air rose goosebumps on my skin.
"Hey."
I tore my eyes away from the full moon overhead and found Wild Eyes standing by the black car. I trotted over, cautiously keeping a few conscious feet between us then asked,
"Where's your friend?"
He pointed over his shoulder.
"In the car, on the phone with his wife. She's got a sixth sense for when he's near trouble."
"Ha. Of course. So... Did you perhaps bust that guy in the face with a glass?"
"When a man puts his hands on a woman, I go... poof," he mimicked an explosion over his head with his hands. I nodded.
"Well, thanks?"
"Yer welcome."
"You from Blaine County?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity any longer.
"Why?" he took a few steps closer, a queer look on his rough face.
"Ain't too many of us down this far and your tan is pretty impressive," I had to lift my chin to look him in the face as his sturdy frame grew nearer. There was a small scar in his eyebrow and a CUT HERE tattoo around his neck that made me wonder what pit he had crawled out of...and why or how.
"I'm talkin'. You listenin' to me?" he whistled, waving a hand in front of my face. I blinked several times.
"What?"
"I said, what's your name?"
"Cinnamon," I beamed.
"Your real name," he clarified, hands on his hips.
"No can do. How do I know you ain't gonna look me up on LifeInvader, break into my house, and kidnap me?" I asked, backing away with a grin on my face.
"Oh," he hid an odd smile. "Now I know for certain someone's flirtin' with Uncle T."
"Just doin' my job!" I called back. I whirled around on the heel of my shoe so I didn't have to see the reaction on his face to what I had just said. I was curious, but he would probably turn into just another dim face in a crowded room. It must not have mattered too much. He didn't even give me his name.