Worth Saving(10)

I let out a sarcastic chuckle as if that’s definitely not it, but then I have a second thought.

“I’m not really sure, Marlene. I mean, what about you? Have you thought about what it’d be like to have a husband and some little kiddos running around in a nice house, with a two-car garage and a little miniature pinscher barking at everything for no reason?”

“Well, obviously you have,” she replies over a giggle. “Personally, I don’t get too excited by the thought of having a husband, but I sure as hell wouldn’t mind having a wife to go home to every night. We can get to kids and all that other stuff later.”

I laugh again.

“You know what I meant. The thought of having a normal life is what makes me excited. I like the idea of settling down and getting away from all this bullshit and drama. It’s not so much the husband part, but the part where I don’t have to do this anymore. I wouldn’t mind being normal for a change.” I reach down and gently run my hand over the tender area on my leg where the cigarette burned me a few days ago.

“From what I hear, settling down isn’t as easy you might think, Layla. From what some of my straight friends tell me, finding a good guy is like finding a f*cking dinosaur fossil in Vegas. Like, that shit doesn’t happen. They say all the good guys are either gay or married.”

“Yeah, I hear the same thing,” I agree, but even as the words come out of my mouth, that light in the back of my mind is still there.

I think about all the douchebags I’ve come across in my life, including my own father, and it almost makes me sad. Even having this conversation makes me feel stupid. I’ve never met a guy who didn’t get on my nerves at some point. They all do it. They have this other side that always comes out eventually, and the next thing you know, they’re cheating on you, or they’re hitting you, or both. Guys suck. So, even mentioning the idea of having some sort of a normal life, where I’m settled down with a family seems out of this world. I should know better by now . . . but it really would be nice to have. It’d be great to not have to sleep with men for money. Yeah, I definitely think I’d like that. But, who am I kidding?

“Listen, I can see where this is going, Layla,” Marlene chimes in, interrupting my train of thought. “I can see you’re starting to want something different, something better than this club and all the *s who come here. But, you need to be careful, okay. While it’s great to be ambitious, you know who you work for, and you know what he’s capable of.”

I rub the circle on my leg again.

“Yeah, I know,” I reply.

“I’ve got your back in whatever you want to do, but just be careful, hon. I don’t like seeing bad things happen to you.”

“I know,” I repeat. “Thanks, Marlene. It’s just a thought anyway. Just a little light in the back of my mind.”

“Well, no matter what happens, don’t ever let that light go out.”

I smile at Marlene and she smiles back just as I feel a tap on the shoulder. I swing around to find a man with a thick beard wearing a black suit with thin white pinstripes. He’s got mafia written all over him, and he looks at me like he owns me.

“You ready?” the man asks, holding out his burly hand for me to take. He smiles, but it doesn’t make me feel at ease. It does the opposite.

“Absolutely,” I lie with a fake smile that I‘ve perfected over the years.

I take the man’s hand and he helps me off the barstool. Just as we start to walk towards the night that he has paid to have with me, I turn back to Marlene.

“Holding on to that light is a lot easier said than done.” I smile at her, but again, it’s forced. “I’ll see you later,” I say, just as the man whose name I don’t know leads me out into the darkness.





Layla

I smell his cologne all over me and it makes me want to gag. Even though I took a shower before I left, I can still smell him on me. Even though we make sure everyone wears a condom, I still feel disgusting and ashamed.

I walk out of the Marriot Hotel with my bag draped over my shoulder and a feeling of disgust resting in my stomach. My skin feels like it’s crawling with tiny spiders whose venom makes me feel sadder with every nibble of my flesh. Maybe that’s a little extreme, but that’s how gross I feel.

As I walk past the sliding glass doors, I try to forget everything I did last night to make sure the man’s two thousand dollars was well spent. After the incident I had with Damien, I know better than to back out when someone pays for me, but even though I know I’m only doing it for my own safety, it doesn’t make it any easier, and it doesn’t make me feel any better about it.

I remember the first time I had to spend the night with someone. I’d just turned eighteen, and Damien told me it was time to “break me in,” because I’d already been working at Red Pony for three months, and I hadn’t made him any money. The guy that night was eighteen too, and his friends bought me for him. He was a scrawny blonde with thin lips and a five o’clock shadow, but I could tell he and his friends came from wealthy families. He was just as terrified as I was in that hotel room. I remember how he was so nervous that he came in his underwear the second I went to reach for them. He was totally embarrassed, thinking he’d displeased me in some way by not being able to perform, but the truth was that I was beyond relieved. He ended up letting me sleep in the bed that night, while he slept on the floor. All he wanted was for his friends to think he’d had sex with me so they’d leave him alone about being a virgin. That was the first time I ever met a guy that nice. It was also the last.