𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀 ||𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘||

"No mom, please don't let them take me!" I cry out, my voice cracking with desperation. The men in suits tightened their grip, pulling me towards the door. I struggle against them, but my parents just stood there, cold and distant, like I was nothing to them. How could they just watch? How could they let this happen? 

My mom waves casually, like she was saying goodbye to a neighbor instead of her own child. Tears stream down my face, blurring my vision. I can't believe it. They don't care. They don't care that I am being torn away from everything I know, from them. The betrayal cuts deeper than anything I've ever felt. 

"Say another fucking word and you'll die," An unfamiliar voice growls, each word laced with menace. The harshness in his tone sends a chill down my spine, freezing me in place. I bite my lower lip, trying desperately to stop the tears that threaten to spill over. As they shove me into a big black car, my heart pounds in my chest, fear wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket. 

I bite my lower lip even harder as they shove a bag over my head. This is a fucking kidnapping. I'm being kidnapped, and my parents don't care. Not that I expected them to - they've never given a shit about me. But still, the reality of it hits me like a punch to the gut. My own parents, standing by while strangers drag me away. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall, even as my world dissolves into darkness and fear. 

"Boss is going to love her body," another unfamiliar voice sneered. I kept quiet, swallowing my fear and trying not to tremble. I didn't want to die today. The weight of their words settles heavily on me, but I knew I had to stay silent, stay invisible if I had any hope of surviving this nightmare.

I let out a shaky breath as the car came to an abrupt stop. The men grab my arms roughly again, their grips so tight I am sure that they are going to leave bruises. We walk into a building, and I immediately feel the chill of the air conditioner blowing throughout the room. The pungent smell of alcohol hit me, making my stomach churn. The whole place reeks of danger and despair. 

"Rose, this is the new girl, make sure she's ready for the boss to see her later," The man ordered before finally letting go of me. I hear a girl sigh and then feel her pull the bag off my head. My eyes struggle to adjust to the dim light, and when they finally do, I see a girl a few years older than me. She is wearing a deep red jacket that hands loosely off her shoulders, the scent of alcohol and roses clung to her. Her expression is a mix of boredom and pity, making my heart sink even further. 

"Hi, I'm Alexia but everyone around here calls me Rose." She says softly.

"Why am I here?" I ask, my voice trembling. I can see the pity in her eyes, and it makes my fear even more palpable. She looks at me with sadness that told me she knew exactly why I am here, but the words seem to catch in her throat. 

"Your parents probably couldn't pay back the boss, so they took you instead..." She explains, her voice tinged with resignation. "Anyway, let's get you ready. I don't feel like being on the boss's bad side, and you'd do best to stay on his good side too." She pulls me towards a back room, where a few other girls are gathered. They all look to be around my age or a little older, their eyes fill with the same fear and uncertainty I feel. 

"That's B, short for Beatrix," Rose informs me. "She's the Queen Bee of this place. The boss loves her, which means no one else gets to touch her. Don't get in her way; she could ruin your life with just a few words." 

I send Beatrix a quick, nervous smile, hoping for some semblance of kindness. She only scoffs, rolling her eyes at me with disdain. Her cold reaction makes my heart sink even further, adding another layer to the already overwhelming fear and uncertainty consuming me. 

"You need a stage name," Rose states while rummaging through some very showy clothing. I stay silent, biting my lip to keep from saying anything that might get me in trouble. "What's your middle name?" She asks, turning towards me with a warm smile, a small glimmer of kindness in this nightmare. 

"Crystal," I spoke quietly, keeping my head down, feeling a sense of vulnerability wash over me.

"Okay, Crystal sounds perfect," Rose affirms, her voice carrying a mix of encouragement and resignation. "One of the things you're going to learn from me is that confidence is everything. The more tips you get the happier the Boss will be. Men love a woman who knows how to move her body."

As she holds up the dress, adorned with rhinestones that glimmer under the harsh lights, my heart sinks. It barely covers anything, leaving little to the imagination. Layers of rhinestones cascade down towards the waist, and it is so short that even the slightest movements threaten to expose too much. The thought of wearing it makes my skin crawl, but I know I have no voice. 

"Perfect," Rose says, her tone final as she pushes the dress into my hands. "Go put that on, and then we'll work on your hair and makeup, and see what you can do with a pole," She instructs, pointing towards a door at the far end of the room. 

With a heavy sigh, I trudge towards the door, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on me. It sends a shiver down my spine, knowing that so many pairs of eyes were watching my every move, judging me. The sense of being scrutinized only adds to the suffocating fear that envelopes me. 

After reluctantly putting on the revealing dress, I can't help but gasp at the reflection staring back at me. I'd never been one to embrace my body, always finding flaws in every curve and contour. But somehow, in this dress, I feel different. It hugs my figure in all the right places, accentuating curves I didn't even know I had. For the first time in a long while, I feel a flicker of confidence, a sense of power coursing through me. Maybe this is what it was supposed to do. 

Stepping out of the cramped dressing room, I brace myself as all eyes turn towards me once again. I still feel incredibly uncomfortable, but beneath the layers of apprehension, there is a tiny spark of newfound confidence flickering within me. 

"You look so hot!" Rose exclaims, her applause ringing through the room. She was now wearing a light red dress that leaves little to the imagination, each curve highlighted by the fabric. While it isn't as sparkly as mine, it still had a few rhinestones strategically placed, adding to the allure. 

"I think it's a little too blingy," An unfamiliar voice remarks, breaking the moment of admiration. Both Rose and I turn towards the voice, and there she is, the Queen Bee of the place, Beatrix. Her gaze sweeps over me, her expression already set in disapproval. It is clear that she dislikes me already. 

"I don't think so; you wear shit like that," Another voice piped up from the corner of the room. The comment laced with sarcasm, hangs in the air, a subtle jab at Beatrix's own fashion choices. 

"Yeah, because the Boss likes it," Beatrix shot back, rolling her eyes. Her dismissive tone made it clear that her approval wasn't something I could expect to earn easily. 

"Don't I want to please 'The Boss'? Isn't that what I want to do?" I retort, raising an eyebrow challengingly. The question hangs in the air, a subtle reminder of the power dynamics at play in this twisted world. 

"Yes, she's right B. Now go back and finish caking your face with makeup," Rose says, her tone firm as she walks toward her own makeup state. She motions for me to come and sit next to her, a small gesture of solidarity amidst the tension. I follow her, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. 

"Have you ever pole danced?" Rose asks as she starts doing my makeup. I send her a pointed look, making it clear just how absurd the question is. She only chuckles in response, her laughter lightening the heavy atmosphere just a bit. 

"Okay, well, I'll talk to the boss about letting you serve the customers until you're ready to be a pole dancer like B and me," She says with a warm smile. I nod slightly, trying not to move too much while she works on my makeup. Her kindness is a small comfort in this terrifying new world. 

"How did you get here?" I inquire, my curiosity getting the better of me. She sighs at my words, a shadow passing over her face. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your personal life-" I began to apologize, feeling the weight of my question. 

"No, it's okay," She says, her voice tinged with sadness. "I pissed off a few people, and when you piss off the wrong people, you get sold. They don't care how old you are." Her eyes reflect a deep sorrow, a painful reminder of the harsh reality we are both trapped in. 

"I'm sorry," I murmur quietly, my heart heavy with sympathy for her plight. 

"It's fine- I'll be fine." She says, straightening her posture and putting on a brave face. "Work starts at 7. Make sure to be nice to the customers. Most of them are important people who will kill you if you cross them. But if one of them touches you without consent, tell our bounce and he'll throw them out." 

Her words hang in the air, a stark reminder of the perilous world I am now a part of. I can't help but think about how all my dreams of the future had gone down the drain, all because my parents wanted drugs or something. Great.