Prologue

                                    

                                          
- Hailey -
"Holy fuck, wait, let me see!" I screamed, pushing through the hoard of half-dressed women. Tassels and lace and sequins rubbed against my own frays of an outfit, tickling and prickling my skin.
"Oh my god, it's so bad!" Lola grimaced, eyes wide in both fear and fascination.
"What the hell is wrong with it?"
"Who thought that was a good idea?"
The wave of other women's voices had my interest heightening as I tried to crane my neck, finally spotting the screen of Macy's phone. Front and center was a dick. Awkwardly angled and definitely unsolicited from Macy, the photo was the first and only message from a number not even saved in the poor girl's phone. My hand flew to my mouth and an ungodly sound that could barely be constituted as a laugh barreled from the confines of my throat.
"Why the fuck is it so curved? Honestly, your pussy would have to have scoliosis to take that bitch," I cried in laughter, and the wave of echoes behind me spurred my howling even further.
Macy stumbled over towards me when the laughter finally died down in the room. The bags under her eyes were worse than ever before, her cheeks had already visibly hollowed, and she'd only been here a few weeks. She was too nice, too soft, and I knew she wouldn't last in this place. The rubbing-alcohol-scent of shitty vodka was strong on her breath. The spiral was coming faster than I realized.
"What the fuck is all the noise in here for, and why are my fucking stages still empty?!"
Hollis barged into the room, throwing the door open with enough force to send the knob sailing into the crater in the wall the countless other times he'd done that had caused. Girls began to scurry, tails trailed with lavender and honey, vanilla and sage, and other sweet smelling aromas we all wore.
The sweeter the smell, the fatter the tip.
Hollis stomped over to me, those clompy boots of his striking the floor like grievous thunder. I tried to hide my flinch when he came steel-toe to platform heeled-toe with me, but if I was being honest with myself, the asshole scared me. I'd been in California longer than planned to see Rachel, and Hollis was...protective of his girls.
"Where the fuck have you been? I said you could take a day. Not a month."
"I wasn't gone a month, Hol. It was a week and a half."
I was already over his dramatics when he'd just gotten shitty over us not being out in the lounge, because here he was, keeping me here longer. I moved to step away from his overbearing frame when one hand lashed out and snatched my upper arm, the other had its fingers curling around my jaw.
"You might want to drop the attitude, sweet cheeks. You're lucky I don't fire you over that little fucking stunt you pulled before you left."
Trying to jerk away, I struggled and shifted in discomfort, but nothing came of it.
"I told you I'm not sucking anyone off for better tips, Hollis. That's prostitution, and I won't do it."
"You're forgetting the part," he clutched me tighter, and I winced, knowing my arm was going to bruise, "where you don't have a fucking choice. Do your fucking job, and everyone gets what they want. You don't want to be homeless again, do you?"
He let me go with a force and a shove, spitting at my feet when I fell to the ground. I cracked my ribs on the bench when I swayed on the landing. My hand flew to my side and I took shallow breaths, the sharp pains in my rib cage not the first I'd felt by his hand. Nor would they be the last, I knew.
"Get your useless ass up, and get the fuck out there, Luna. You have two minutes before I drag you out by your hair."
With that, he was gone. For now, at least, because I knew he wasn't bluffing. He'd done it before, and it had only spurred the customers in the lounge on, assuming I just wanted it that rough.
Luna. God, I loathed that name. Whenever I heard it, it meant I was either in this shithole or just within ear range of Hollis. I'd hated the night I'd gotten the name even more, because it had started my life on these stages.
"Your eyes are silver. Bright as the moon. It'll draw customers in, and we need that around here, pretty girl. Luna it is," Hollis had said before my audition on the stage.
But I'd needed the money then, and I still needed it now. So if I had to be Luna a little while longer, I could do it.
Just a little while longer.
I was already as empty as the cloudless city night sky anyway.
I was thankful for the fairly easygoing shift that followed the less-than-ideal start. By the time I left and made my way out the door without being spotted by Hollis, my side was killing me and my head was even worse off.
Rounding the corner for my apartment, I pulled my long coat tighter around myself at the cold chill that whipped down the row of buildings acting like a tunnel. Movement at my door had my head snapping up. No one good was ever at my door at such an hour. I clutched tighter to the key I'd already had digging into my palm on the walk home and readied myself for the worst.
But it was a woman.
A familiar, brunette woman.
"Rach?" I let my hand ease from its death grip at the sight of my best friend. "What are you doing here? Much less alone out here at three in the morning?"
"I texted you," she waved her phone about. "I wanted to see you, plus I missed this place."
As if on cue of the sarcastic retort I'd yet to say, a wave of horns blasting sounded.
I raised a brow. "You sure?"
Rachel started to laugh and I did too, pushing away the sharp pains it splintered through my ribs to keep her from questioning anything. I stepped around her and slid my key into its slot, pushing the door open to head up to my floor.
"I'm sorry, I never saw your text. It's been a long night."
She laughed again behind me. "Yeah, I see that. Hot date, huh?"
Before I could ask what she meant, she flipped the back of my coat up behind my knees. I wanted to smack my pounding head against a wall, realizing I hadn't cared to change out of my last outfit of the night just to give myself a better chance of walking out unnoticed. It had worked for Hollis but not Rachel.
With ease, I shuffled through another giggle and glanced at her over my shoulder with an easygoing wink, then continued the ascent up the stairs. When my gaze cast down towards my feet, I was grateful I'd at least had the sense to change into more comfortable shoes for the walk home. As my thoughts wandered back through the events of the night and my breathing grew harsh from the trip up the staircases with a rude reminder of the pain in my side, I was more needy than ever for the numbing promise alcohol offered.
And as I drank deeply from the foul, vodka-spiked wine I'd poured for faster numbing, as I smiled and laughed and listened to Rachel, truly happy she was there, I told myself the same mantra again and again.
Just a little while longer.