Satisfy

Lilly

It takes eight hours to get here on the bus, and by the time I arrive, it’s early morning. My back aches from sitting in the same cramped seat all night, and I’m exhausted, but there’s no point stopping yet. I rush to the club Stacy transferred me to, Satisfy, to fill out paperwork and get on their roster.

Thankfully, Stacy’s brother has told the manager, Kevin, that I won’t be going on the payroll. Instead, I’ll be getting paid in cash, just like Stacy had been doing for me. It’s a relief, really; I don’t need a paper trail, and I don’t want people asking questions about why.

Kevin has me on the roster for that same evening, so I have plenty of time to find the hotel I looked up, shower, and eat something before my shift starts.

“Okay, well, welcome to Satisfy! I’m thankful Luciano had you transferred here. We just lost three of our best girls, so we’re extremely short-staffed now,” he says.

He seems nice enough. Short, dirty-blond hair, a medium build, and a smile that somehow tells me his mother must love him really well.

“Hmm,” I hum in response. I want to be polite, but I also don’t like divulging unnecessary information. It’s safer that way, really.

“Okay, great. All the paperwork is done, so if you want to meet back here at seven, we can get you sorted out with a wardrobe, have a walkthrough, and get you on stage by eight.”

“A wardrobe? I have a few pieces of my own…”

“Oh no, just come in your normal clothes. Luciano likes to give each girl their own wardrobe with everything they need.”

“Oh. Okay, sure then. I’ll see you at seven… Thanks.”

Luciano is Stacy’s brother, and I’ve learned he owns over twenty clubs across the country, most of which he manages through family. But this one, this one is his. Stacy told me, when she called him, that he was more than happy to have me transferred and needed me at the club he personally managed.

I thought it was odd at first. Why not send me to any of the others? If Kevin says they’re short-staffed, that makes sense. It’s convenient for him.

I manage to make my way to the hotel. It’s nothing special, tucked between a takeaway shop and an old laundromat, but the room has a lock on the door and somewhere for me to sleep. That’s enough.

I have just enough money for a week’s stay, that is, if I don’t spend any of it anywhere else. Which means that the complimentary tea, coffee, and biscuits in my room are going to be the only thing I’ll be eating for a while.

That doesn’t bother me too much; my body is used to running on less than what’s considered a normal amount of food. I take a sugar packet and sit down on the musty brown comforter atop the hard bed. I’ll have to go slow with what little I have, so for now, I figure a sugar packet will suffice until I finish my shift tonight. Maybe then I’ll treat myself to one of the four biscuit packets.

I tear off the top of the packet, not caring that the rubbish falls to the floor. The place doesn’t look very clean to begin with, so I don’t think it really matters.

Letting the sugar fall onto my tongue, I let it dissolve, a trick I learned when I was younger, locked in my room for days on end by my father with no food or water.

Occasionally, one of the staff members who worked in the house would slide something under the door. It always had to be small enough to fit through the sliver of space, usually a squashed piece of bread or candy. I quickly learned to eat small amounts over a long period and let it sit on my tongue to trick my brain into thinking I had more food than I actually did.

Shaking off the memory, I make my way into the dimly lit bathroom connected to my room. It isn’t much, but it does come with some soap and shampoo that I know I desperately need. I turn on the water and let it steam up before stepping in, hissing as it hits the tender spots on my feet from running barefoot.

I use all the tiny shampoo, which does little except make my hair feel dry and tangled. The soap is even worse, making my skin feel like rubber, but it does take off the stench I’ve acquired, and I can at least be thankful for that.

Hopping out of the shower and using the slightly stained towel to dry off, I use my fingers to comb through the mess of my hair and make my way over to the bag of things I managed to grab from Thrive before I left.

I couldn’t go back and get anything from my motel room there, so I’ll have to make do with a pair of my stripper bottoms and the clothes I’m already wearing. I guess it’s a good thing Kevin mentioned I’ll be getting a wardrobe at the club. Maybe there’ll be some stuff I can use until I have a bit of cash to buy some second-hand clothes.

It’s just after six when I decide to have another sugar packet before grabbing my purse and leaving for the club. I’ll need a little bit of energy to walk there and get through the shift.

The streets are busier now than they were this morning, and I keep my head down as I walk, watching the pavement and trying to ignore the ache in my feet. Every step rubs against the tender skin, but at least Satisfy isn’t too far from the hotel.

“Lilly! You’re early,” Kevin says as I enter the club’s main doors.

The place is still quiet, with just a few staff members setting up for the night. Music plays softly through the speakers now, and coloured lights move lazily across the empty stage.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I didn’t know how long it would take me to get here, so I figured it’d be best to be early rather than late.”

“No, that’s fine! We can get started with your wardrobe, meet the other girls, and get you ready for tonight if you’d like.”