Page 5 of Defying Love

"Beauty is pain, sweetheart. And tonight, you're going to be the most beautiful girl in the room."

My posture was a battle between the constricting embrace of the corset and the desire to slump under its weight. I slipped my feet into heels that arched my soles like bows, their straps hugging my ankles with an unforgiving grip. Each step was a calculated effort, a balance between grace I didn't feel and the role I had to play.

"Listen up, Alexa." Her gaze was piercing as it held my reflection in the mirror. "Tonight, you're a waitress. You keep those drinks full, and you keep those smiles coming. Our customers are kings, and you're there to serve them. Understand?"

I met Willow's stare in the glass, the intimidation in her eyes softened by a glimmer of something akin to empathy. "Yes, I understand.”

"Good." She stepped back, her appraisal frank. "Prove yourself tonight, and we can talk about making this a regular gig for you. This could be your new beginning. Don't let it slip through your fingers."

The air hung heavy with opportunity and desperation as I took in Willow's words. I straightened my back, feeling the constraints of the corset like an armor forged from necessity. The discomfort was a small price—I would endure it; I would thrive in it.

"I won't let you down." I stepped into the abyss, but I wouldn't fall—not when every step, every smile, every filled glass was a rung on the ladder leading out of the darkness.

The beat of the music pulsed through my veins like an electric current, urging me forward as I navigated the eager patrons. Each step was a precarious dance in heels too high and a corset too restrictive, yet I moved with a fluid grace I hadn't known I possessed. The tray in my hands became an extension of my will, the clinking glasses a chorus to the cacophony that surrounded me.

"Two whiskeys, straight up!"

I nodded, committing the order to memory. I weaved through the sea of bodies, each sway and twist an artful dodge of wandering hands and spilling drinks.

I was still in shock that I was in this place. If my mother saw me now, she would be so disappointed. I wouldn’t even tell her I lost my job, and it wouldn’t raise any questions. That was if I even got the gig.

The bartender handed me the drinks and I walked them back.

"Here you are.” I set down the tumblers with practiced care. The man's eyes lingered on me for a heartbeat too long. This was something I would have to get used to if working here. Men came here for pleasure without reprimand. So, it was in the job description to let them look and flirt with them a bit. Judging by the wad of cash in my bra right now, it paid better too.

"Thank you, miss," he grumbled, tossing a couple of bills onto my tray.

"Of course.”

Hour after relentless hour, I poured myself into the role, my good girl disposition bending but never breaking beneath the guise of the perfect server. Compliments on my efficiency were laced with leers, yet I accepted them all the same, storing them away as tokens of my unwavering commitment to not have to go back home. Vegas was where I belonged, and right now I’d do anything to stay.

After looking around to see if anyone else needed anything, I escaped to the sanctuary of the restroom and locked myself in a stall. Slipping off one painful heel, then the other, I allowed myself a moment's respite, my feet sighing in relief against the cool tile floor.

My hats off to the strippers. Their heels were much higher than mine and they walked around and danced in them all night. How the fuck do they do it? Kudos.

With trembling fingers, I reached into the folds of my bra, withdrawing the wad of cash I earned. One by one, I counted the bills, eyes widening in quiet astonishment at the sum. It was more money than I had seen in weeks, perhaps even months—the tangible proof of my dedication and ability to adapt to a new work environment.

I could pay my rent three times from what I’d made so far. Willow saw something in me that night. My friends from work brought me in here, and she commented about my small-town innocent girl facade. I remember her trying to recruit me then.

The bills crinkled between my fingers, each one a promise, a possibility, a tiny beacon of hope in the enveloping darkness of my new reality. With care, I tucked the money back into its hiding place and slipped my feet into the torturous heels once more.

I was going to go out there and be the best damn waitress Willow had ever had. This job was mine. I emerged from the stall and squared my shoulders, my gaze hardened by the trials of the night, yet softened by the prospect of what these hard-earned tips signified.

The chaos awaited, but so did my future, and I would seize it with both hands, no matter the cost.

The pulse of music reverberated against my ribs, a relentless reminder of the world I plunged into. Sweat trailed down my spine, yet I moved with a grace born of necessity, dodging gyrating hips and flailing limbs. My corset felt like a vise, sculpting my breaths into shallow intakes, but I pushed on, my smile never faltering as I delivered another round of neon-colored drinks to a raucous table filled with guys from a bachelor party.

Then I felt it—a prickling sensation at the nape of my neck, an invisible gaze that seemed to stroke my skin with intangible fingers. I scanned the club, seeking out the source, but found nothing amiss. Shadows clung to the corners, harboring whispered secrets and fleeting glances. Someone was watching me, I was certain. Focus. I turned back to the task at hand. But the feeling lingered, unsettling in its persistence.

Hours ebbed away, and as the last song faded, Willow appeared from the depths of the club. She moved with deliberate steps, her eyes soft but carrying the weight of mountains.

"You've done well tonight—better than well. You've got a knack for this, a way of making the patrons feel… seen. Valued."

My heart did a clumsy pirouette. It wasn't praise I sought, but in that moment, Willow's words were an anchor in the storm.

"Thank you.”

She offered a small, knowing smile, one that seemed to acknowledge the trials of the evening. "I've been doing this a long time," she continued. "I can tell when someone's got what it takes. And you, Alexa… you have it. I want you on board, full-time."