Page 54 of When Hearts Ignite

Cold sweat breaks out on my skin as the burning sensation in my eyes doesn’t appear to abate. My mind drifts back to all the men in the past who leered at my curves and made disgusting comments, and I know life is about to get much, much worse.

Blinking rapidly, I breathe in long inhales, followed by longer exhales. I can do this. This is just a costume. This is not who you are, Grace. This is an act. Just pretend you’re an actress. I keep repeating the affirmations in my mind as I focus on my breathing, and I see a faint flush returning to my otherwise pale face.

Squaring my shoulders, I stride out, faking the confidence I don’t really have.

If I’m going to do this, I’ll be the best dancer they’ll ever have.

Sofia’s eyes widen, no doubt from my change in demeanor, and a small smile appears on her lips. “Good. Very good. I thought perhaps you changed your mind.”

She plays a soft jazz piece and instructs, “Pretend you’re on a stage in front of our clientele and dance.”

The beats are slow. Sultry. My heart races inside me as I attempt to turn off all the noise in my head. This is a task. A job. Focus on that.

Closing my eyes, I gyrate my hips to the music, letting my hands skim the sides of my breasts as I roll my body in a series of moves I’ve seen Mom do from the backstage when I was younger. Dipping my body low, I flip back up, making sure to stick out my bottom and arch my back, my hands trailing back up my body. My eyes flutter open and I stare at a spot above Sofia and execute a pirouette, letting my body become one with the music.

“Good. That’s enough.” The music stops and my heavy breathing fills the air as I stand still, waiting for the verdict.

Sofia steps away from her desk and stands in front of me.

“The moves were rudimentary but well done, and we have teachers and choreographers here who will work with you.” She smiles warmly at me. “You know, I have a feeling you’ll do very well here. And your eyes…that beautiful shade of violet, they’ll draw them in.”

Them as in men.

The nausea, which disappeared for a few moments when I slipped on the dancer role, resurges and I fight to remain still.

She extends her hand again. “Welcome to The Orchid, Grace.”

Later that night, after Taylor is fast asleep on her twin bed and Mom retired to her bedroom after work, none the wiser to the events that transpired a few hours ago, I sit at my desk facing the windows. The moonlight casts a faint glow through the half-opened blinds.

After my audition, Sofia took out a checkbook and wrote me a hefty sum, big enough to pay off the loan with leftover to move us into employee housing closer to The Orchid.

When I returned home with the check in my hand, my heart felt like it was razed by a bulldozer, and my eyes were on the verge of tears again. Taylor pulled me aside, and I told her about the offer and that I’d be dancing. I didn’t tell her about the stripping. I knew she wouldn’t let me if she knew.

Mom fussed over us at dinner, her forehead crinkling when she asked us why both of our eyes were red and swollen. We made up some excuse about allergies and I tried my best to fake a smile even though my soul felt battered. Splintered into tiny pieces.

But now, in the stillness of the late hours, with the wispy moonlight as my companion, the sorrow I’ve been holding inside me threatens to unleash, the final quake of the earth breaking the dam wide open. My nose burns and tears gather in my eyes as I stare at the starry skies, my mind mourning the future I thought I had, but was cruelly wrenched away from me at the last second.

I’m young. I could start over.

It’s only dancing. After two years, we’d be free.

It’s not a big deal.

My mind whispers lies to my heart, trying to soothe its shudders and calm its cries.

Growing up, watching Mom depend on men, one after the other, using her beauty, her charms, but failing to keep any of them, I vowed to myself I’d never be in her shoes. I’d never resort to using my body or my face to eke out a living. I’d use my intelligence and my brain to carve a path for myself and my family.

But life is ironic, and Lady Luck is not on our side yet again. Now, I’m relegated to using the same features I never thought I’d use, to learn to stomach men gawking at me with lust in their eyes. I’m going to have to get used to my body not truly being my own.

Somehow, amid all this aching sadness, I think of him. The man from a different walk of life, his shiny dress shoes to my scuffed leather ones, his luxury car to my subway rides, his penthouse apartment to my hole in the wall with barred windows. Now, the distance between us will be even wider, even more insurmountable. I don’t want him to see me as a dancer in skimpy clothing. I want him to remember me as the brilliant intern who could make him laugh.

Perhaps it’s for the best. Men will always disappoint you and Steven has never made any promises to me. I know what happened with the job offer wasn’t his fault—it was clear as day from the conversation in his office. But still, he wasn’t able to protect me this time.

But you didn’t tell him why you needed the job, Grace.

Does it matter? The results would still be the same and I don’t want a job out of pity.

I stare at the moon, shining so brightly in the inky skies, even though the light within me has snuffed out.

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