“I can’t believe آپ have to work on New Year’s Eve.” Ponyboy mumbles.
آپ give him a quick kiss on the cheek as آپ head towards the door. “I know, but I’ll be paid extra for working tonight.”
“Waiting tables?” He snorts.
آپ roll your eyes. “Well it is a holiday.” Not knowing what else to say about your profession, آپ add, “Lots of people go out tonight.”
“Can I visit آپ to get a New Year’s kiss?” He asks as آپ turn the doorknob to the front door.
آپ stop. آپ didn’t want him coming to see where آپ worked. “No,” آپ say quietly.
“Why not?”
“Just… No.” آپ say, and leave.
******************
The باس, گھنگھور pounded, the colored lights flashed.
آپ 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. آپ were desperate for money, and آپ apparently had the sex appeal for it.
آپ take a look in the bathroom mirror, your hair all curly, and your wearing this black leather and fishnet ensemble.
“You look so slutty.” آپ think to yourself.
What would Ponyboy think?
He’d be so disappointed in you.
And آپ just want to break down and cry, knowing how upset he’d be.
آپ fight back tears, not wanting to ruin your eyeliner and mascara.
آپ quickly تحریر yourself, آپ were on in 5.
آپ 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 موسیقی starts, and the lights go up. آپ feel the beat, starting to slide down the pole.
As آپ turn around, kicking up your leg, آپ see him.
آپ see him, standing at the entrance, the look on his face killing you.
آپ 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 آپ ignore him, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.
آپ see him mouth something. At first آپ can’t make it out, but then آپ realize he’s saying: “I’m sorry.”
آپ shake your head, letting him know it’s not his fault.
He starts walking towards you, making his way through the crowd of men.
آپ hop off the stage, making your way towards him, as fast as your high heeled boots would carry you.
آپ run into his arms, which immediately لپیٹ, لفاف کریں around you, pulling آپ close. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
آپ 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 آپ a real job, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
All آپ 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 سال will be different.” آپ sniffle.
آپ give him a quick kiss on the cheek as آپ head towards the door. “I know, but I’ll be paid extra for working tonight.”
“Waiting tables?” He snorts.
آپ roll your eyes. “Well it is a holiday.” Not knowing what else to say about your profession, آپ add, “Lots of people go out tonight.”
“Can I visit آپ to get a New Year’s kiss?” He asks as آپ turn the doorknob to the front door.
آپ stop. آپ didn’t want him coming to see where آپ worked. “No,” آپ say quietly.
“Why not?”
“Just… No.” آپ say, and leave.
******************
The باس, گھنگھور pounded, the colored lights flashed.
آپ 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. آپ were desperate for money, and آپ apparently had the sex appeal for it.
آپ take a look in the bathroom mirror, your hair all curly, and your wearing this black leather and fishnet ensemble.
“You look so slutty.” آپ think to yourself.
What would Ponyboy think?
He’d be so disappointed in you.
And آپ just want to break down and cry, knowing how upset he’d be.
آپ fight back tears, not wanting to ruin your eyeliner and mascara.
آپ quickly تحریر yourself, آپ were on in 5.
آپ 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 موسیقی starts, and the lights go up. آپ feel the beat, starting to slide down the pole.
As آپ turn around, kicking up your leg, آپ see him.
آپ see him, standing at the entrance, the look on his face killing you.
آپ 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 آپ ignore him, biting your lip to keep from sobbing.
آپ see him mouth something. At first آپ can’t make it out, but then آپ realize he’s saying: “I’m sorry.”
آپ shake your head, letting him know it’s not his fault.
He starts walking towards you, making his way through the crowd of men.
آپ hop off the stage, making your way towards him, as fast as your high heeled boots would carry you.
آپ run into his arms, which immediately لپیٹ, لفاف کریں around you, pulling آپ close. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
آپ 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 آپ a real job, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
All آپ 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 سال will be different.” آپ sniffle.
“You alright, babe?” He asks. آپ were lying on your stomach on سب, سب سے اوپر of him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” آپ 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 یا something?” آپ say.
“Ok, well then every other night.” He grins.
“That might work.” آپ laugh.
“By the looks of it, we’ll have lots of little kids on our hands.” He winks.