“I can’t believe you have to work on New Year’s Eve.” Ponyboy mumbles.
You give him a quick kiss on the cheek as you head towards the door. “I know, but I’ll be paid extra for working tonight.”
“Waiting tables?” He snorts.
You roll your eyes. “Well it is a holiday.” Not knowing what else to say about your profession, you add, “Lots of people go out tonight.”
“Can I visit you to get a New Year’s kiss?” He asks as you turn the doorknob to the front door.
You stop. You didn’t want him coming to see where you worked. “No,” you say quietly.
“Why not?”
“Just… No.” You say, and leave.
******************
The baixo pounded, the colored lights flashed.
You glance at the clock. Only 11:50. Another couple hours in this whore house.
Stripping wasn’t how you’d picture your future to be. It sorta just happened. You were desperate for money, and you apparently had the sex appeal for it.
You take a look in the bathroom mirror, your hair all curly, and your wearing this black leather and fishnet ensemble.
“You look so slutty.” You think to yourself.
What would Ponyboy think?
He’d be so disappointed in you.
And you just want to break down and cry, knowing how upset he’d be.
You fight back tears, not wanting to ruin your eyeliner and mascara.
You quickly compose yourself, you were on in 5.
You walk backstage in a daze, not really concentrating, ready just to be another pretty face and body for men to stare at.
The lights go dark on the stage, your cue to take your place at your pole, the one on the stage right.
The música starts, and the lights go up. You feel the beat, starting to slide down the pole.
As you turn around, kicking up your leg, you see him.
You see him, standing at the entrance, the look on his face killing you.
You instantly let go of the pole, stand up, and look at him, eyes starting to water.
“Bitch, get back to dancing!” Some drunk yells at you, but you ignore him, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.
You see him mouth something. At first you can’t make it out, but then you realize he’s saying: “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, letting him know it’s not his fault.
He starts walking towards you, making his way through the crowd of men.
You hop off the stage, making your way towards him, as fast as your high heeled boots would carry you.
You run into his arms, which immediately embrulho, envoltório around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
You can’t help it now, the tears start to flow.
He pulls away, holding your face in your hands, trying to hold back tears himself. “You’re going to quit, alright? I’ll support you, I swear. We’ll find you a real job, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
All you can do is cry and nod, make up running down your face.
“5, 4, 3, 2-” the crowd counts down to signal the new year.
And his lips crash into yours.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The club roars.
“This ano will be different.” You sniffle.
You give him a quick kiss on the cheek as you head towards the door. “I know, but I’ll be paid extra for working tonight.”
“Waiting tables?” He snorts.
You roll your eyes. “Well it is a holiday.” Not knowing what else to say about your profession, you add, “Lots of people go out tonight.”
“Can I visit you to get a New Year’s kiss?” He asks as you turn the doorknob to the front door.
You stop. You didn’t want him coming to see where you worked. “No,” you say quietly.
“Why not?”
“Just… No.” You say, and leave.
******************
The baixo pounded, the colored lights flashed.
You glance at the clock. Only 11:50. Another couple hours in this whore house.
Stripping wasn’t how you’d picture your future to be. It sorta just happened. You were desperate for money, and you apparently had the sex appeal for it.
You take a look in the bathroom mirror, your hair all curly, and your wearing this black leather and fishnet ensemble.
“You look so slutty.” You think to yourself.
What would Ponyboy think?
He’d be so disappointed in you.
And you just want to break down and cry, knowing how upset he’d be.
You fight back tears, not wanting to ruin your eyeliner and mascara.
You quickly compose yourself, you were on in 5.
You walk backstage in a daze, not really concentrating, ready just to be another pretty face and body for men to stare at.
The lights go dark on the stage, your cue to take your place at your pole, the one on the stage right.
The música starts, and the lights go up. You feel the beat, starting to slide down the pole.
As you turn around, kicking up your leg, you see him.
You see him, standing at the entrance, the look on his face killing you.
You instantly let go of the pole, stand up, and look at him, eyes starting to water.
“Bitch, get back to dancing!” Some drunk yells at you, but you ignore him, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.
You see him mouth something. At first you can’t make it out, but then you realize he’s saying: “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head, letting him know it’s not his fault.
He starts walking towards you, making his way through the crowd of men.
You hop off the stage, making your way towards him, as fast as your high heeled boots would carry you.
You run into his arms, which immediately embrulho, envoltório around you, pulling you close. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
You can’t help it now, the tears start to flow.
He pulls away, holding your face in your hands, trying to hold back tears himself. “You’re going to quit, alright? I’ll support you, I swear. We’ll find you a real job, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
All you can do is cry and nod, make up running down your face.
“5, 4, 3, 2-” the crowd counts down to signal the new year.
And his lips crash into yours.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The club roars.
“This ano will be different.” You sniffle.
“You alright, babe?” He asks. You were lying on your stomach on topo, início of him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You say.
He strokes his hair. “You know, this could be us every night.”
“Yeah but we’d have kids, so it would be weird and awkward to do this every night. What if they had bad dreams or something?” You say.
“Ok, well then every other night.” He grins.
“That might work.” You laugh.
“By the looks of it, we’ll have lots of little kids on our hands.” He winks.