Page 5 of Scattered Glitter

To my right, the main floor is alive with movement. Girls twirl and slide around the poles while men lean in with bills clutched in their eager hands.

Annabelle is up there, mid-routine, twisting effortlessly around the pole, her face set in a focused smile. As I walk by, our eyes meet, and she throws me a quick wink, her blue hair catching the light.

The adrenaline starts to fade, and that familiar hollow feeling creeps in like it always does. On stage, I’m all sparkle and shine. When I step off it, I’m just waiting, always waiting—for what, I’m not quite sure.

The hallway beyond the stages is quieter and a little cooler, the lights here softer and more subdued. My feet glide across the plush carpet, the sound of my heels muffled as I follow Carl toward the back.

Finally there, I thank Carl and slip into the luxurious dressing room, with its vanity mirrors lined with soft lights and personal lockers. I remove my pink wig, placing it inside my locker of six years, then I place the Rolex in my purse. The lounge area is filled with laughter and the scent of designer perfumes, but I’m not in the mood to chitchat with the other girls.

Grabbing a towel, I push my long brown hair behind my shoulders to wipe the sweat and glitter from my skin, my thoughts already drifting to the next song, next dance, and distraction.

Because that’s all this is—one big, glittery distraction from the things I don’t want to think about and the ghosts that still haunt me. That’s the life I’ve chosen. Or maybe it’s the life that chose me.

I barely have time to somewhat towel off the glitter on my chest before Annabelle bursts through the back door, a bundle of energy and excitement as usual. Her eyes are practically sparkling, even brighter than the sequins on her outfit.

“Oh my God, Nova! It’s finally over!” she squeals, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “My last shift! Can you believe it? We’re so going out tonight. We have to celebrate!”

“You’re done already?” I ask, feigning surprise as I toss the towel aside.

“Yup! No more shaking it for tips. Starting Monday, I’ll be a boring secretary, typing away at a desk all day. But tonight?” She toys with her blue wig. “Tonight, we party!”

“Hell yes, we do,” I agree, grinning with happiness for her.

Annabelle has been counting down to this day for weeks, ever since she landed a secretary job with a law firm. It’s not her dream job but more of a step toward the life she wants—the kind that doesn’t involve late nights on a pole. In a way, I envy her, not just for leaving but for believing she can.

She skips over to me, grabs my hand, and pulls me back toward the lockers. “Come on, let’s get changed and hit Vortex. I need to dance for fun, not for money.”

I laugh, letting her drag me along. Annabelle might bemoving on from our life at the strip club, but I’m glad she found something better. She’s pure and sweet, too good for the guys who usually haunt these places.

Her new guy is this nice, stable guy, and he’s good for her. Not like the losers she used to date, the ones I had to chase off more than once.

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” I say, slipping into a short black skirt and a bralette that shows off just enough skin to keep things interesting, then grab my purse. I catch a short glimpse of my body in the mirror, spying the glitter still clinging to my décolletage and shoulders. I don’t bother trying to wipe off any more.

It’s part of me.

Annabelle is already changed into something equally tiny and sparkly, but she keeps on her blue wig, which is the reason she’s calledIcearound here. She twirls in front of the mirror, the fake locks that match the color of her eyes bouncing with her movements. “I’m gonna give her one last ride,” she explains through a smile. “Let’s make this a night to remember.” I smile, watching her glow, free in a way I can’t imagine for myself.

When Annabelle leaves the club for good, it will be another reminder of the life I didn’t choose.

I used to think this place would swallow me whole. The first time I stepped through the doors, I was eighteen, still too angry to cry about what I’d lost. Glitter wasn’t born here, but she was perfected under these lights with every smirk, stolen glance, and flick of my wrist.

Euphoria isn’t just where I work, it’s where I learned to survive, to take control when the world tried to rip it from me.

CHAPTER TWO

Novalee

Vortex isn’t just where I come to blow off steam. It’s where the lines blur—the good, the bad, the glitter-coated lies I tell myself. This is my playground, hunting ground, and escape rolled into one. I come here to forget, lose myself in the bassline, and find something,someone, who makes me feel anything other than hollow.

It’s worked before. It’ll work again tonight.

Inside, the air is thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol, the flashing lights casting everyone in shades of red, blue, and purple. It’s loud and chaotic, just the way we like it. Annabelle’s already bouncing to the beat as she pulls me toward the bar.

We don’t even make it there before a couple of guys offer to buy us drinks, but I wave them off. “Not tonight,” I shout over the music, and Annabelle grins gratefully at me. Tonight isn’t about hooking up.

Tonight is about celebrating her.

When we finally make it to the bar, I spot another reason I love coming here so much. The hot-as-hell bartender who has been working here since January is on duty, andas usual, his mop of black hair falls into his face just the way I like it when he grins at me, his silver nose ring so damn sexy, like the rest of him.

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