Four

H E R

As the door shuts behind me, I'm snapped back into reality.

Those same strobe lights that kept me warm now feel distant—remnants of a world that fades the moment I step off stage.

A world where two versions of myself once coexisted—now separated, naturally.

A fine, laminar, and bleak line between day and night.

Like autumn leaves shedding from their branches, I begin to strip away what I wore as armor. My ego falls away, one layer at a time.

The bodysuit that once held me tight—shoulders tall, confidence plated with seduction—can no longer hold together the spine that tends to cower once the lights are gone.

And the further down my zipper goes, the heavier my shoulders feel.

I freshen up and cover Domino's vessel with a cotton white fitted cropped t shirt and bright washed blue jeans. Then made way for the mirror.

My fingers tremble a little as I wipe away the last streak of glitter from my cheek—eyeliner smudged, lips bare, cheeks still flushed from the heat of the lights and the pressure of performance.

I glance at my reflection in the mirror, then toss the makeup wipe into the trash.

Just like that, she's gone.No more Domino.Just Natalia.

And with her stage exit comes a familiar weight.

It clings to me like a thick coat, quiet but heavy.

A moment of lost confidence sneaks in—leaving me armorless in a room full of weapons.

The dressing room buzzes behind me.

Girls glide past—some half-dressed, others already in sweats and flats, peeling back their own disguises.

A few laughs. A few whispers. But my mind's already turning on me.Paranoia has a louder voice than facts.

She think she big shit, flaunting on that stage like that.

Another one of my bills cut short when that bitch hits the stage.

Don't worry—she'll be gone in an hour.

I couldn't help, but hear them..their voices, their thoughts. Tossing me into a deep isolation that was so knowing.

I can't emphasize how I hate this place.

Sadly can't act as if it's not getting me by.

"Girl, you know you can rip the floor up. You did your shit out there, chica," Yaris says, cutting through the noise as she hugs me from behind already dressed in street clothes.

Her arms anchor me—grounding. Familiar.

"Thanks, Ri," I murmur with a tired smile.

"You ready to go? Too many BV victims floating in the room," she giggles, handing me my bag.

I chuckle, just a little.

"Yeah. I was just finishing up." I shake off the fog and stand.

"Let's make it quick before Blow Job shows up," Yaris says with a roll of her eyes and a wicked smirk.

It clicks—BJ.

I laugh lightly, shaking my head as we make our way toward the double doors, ready to sink into beds and finally, an off day.

That was the plan.

"Just the person I was looking for..." BJ's voice slices through the air as she blocks our path, cutting an eye at Yaris.

"We already punched out. Don't even start," Yaris snaps, tugging at my arm.

"Not you, tired slut. I'm talking to Domi," BJ grins, eyes on me. "The boss wants to see you upstairs. Now."

I glance at Yaris, her face tightening.

"You know you don't have to go. He'll see you clocked out," she says plainly.

"Uhhh, check again," BJ chirps sarcastically.

We both follow her gaze to the balcony.

Mac.

Standing there, talking to a man I've never seen before. His gaze read mischief as he wiggled his ring covered fingers at me.

Yaris curses under her breath. "Shit." She sighs, squeezing my arm. "I'll be outside waiting. If you're not out in fifteen, I'm coming in."

"Alright. I won't be long." I nod, cutting through the crowd headed up the stairs.

I kept constantly finding myself nudging against the others with vulgarity flying across my head

And now I know why the dressing room was half-empty.

Most of the girls were already lined up—like hopefuls holding tickets to a lottery. One where freedom was bought with a lap dance and luck.

"Where you going, Miss Thang?" Maxine purrs from the side of the staircase, posed like she owns the place.

Just like the devil, wrapped in red with lipstick to match. He blonde hair brought it all together with her golden skin.

Of course.

Her little crew stands around her, smirking, feeding off her theatrics.

Maxine's been self-declared headmistress of the Playhouse, clawing her way into everyone's business and their pockets.

"All these hoes been waiting since 5:30, and you think you just gonna dance your ass up these steps ahead? I don't think so," she says smartly.

"Max, Mac asked for me. If it wasn't for that, I'd already be on my way home," I reply, mentally exhausted.

All I want is to be in my bed. My satin sheets, my own silence. But instead, I'm here—negotiating again.

"So you know who's up there?" Maxine tilts her head with a sly smile.

"Someone's up there?" I blink, caught off guard.

"What you think we standing here for? This the money train, boo," Lola pipes up beside her.

Maxine leans in closer, voice dropping.

"Let's make a deal."

My stomach turns into balls of knots.

I remember what a deal was like with her.

That "deal" turned into me being plastered across the dressing room walls—Maxine going down on me in a photo I never agreed to take. The billionaires. The fallout. The shame.

Yaris had to clean it all up while I stood there stunned and stupid.

"I'm good," I say flatly, brushing past her.

Before I can step, a red stiletto heel slams in front of me, blocking my way.

"Whatever, trick. When you come back down, tell me who he is," she says with a glint in her eyes with a smirk, moving her long legs just enough to let me pass.

I climb the stairs, heart thudding in my chest.

Each step heavier than the last.

I can't shake the feeling that something's about to shift.

With every step I felt like I was stepping into the Lion's den, trying my best to avoid eyes that burned the side of my head as I continue to climb the spiral staircase higher.

My thoat begins to dry as I step up.

At the top of the stairs,  I fall face to face with  one of Tucker's guards.

Without eye contact he just nods for me to go forward to the closed red door.

"Go on." Cash mutters while ignoring Diamond who was irritated yelling obscenities.

"Cash I've been standing here all damn night, you gone let this bitch cut me?" She says cutting her eyes at me. "That's some bullshit!"

"Not my orders, now move." Cash says shrugging her off without losing his stance. "Go on, girl." He says snapping me back to reality twisting the knob for me as Diamond continues to yell at him.

I open the door to a warm greeting cigar smoke rolling to the ceiling and the smell of a freshly opened bottle of whiskey, as Malcolm and his guest conversed with one another silently.

"Uhm, you asked to see me?" I ask lowly watching his guest sat far behind him.

"Oh yes! There's my rare bird. I have someone I'd like you to meet." He says, opened armed with a grin gesturing over to him.

I've seen his face before. I even already knew his name. I've heard of him, but who hasn't ? He's very well known for one reason than most.

He was known as one of the best business executives in the music business .., Michael Jackson. There's been a lot circulating in the press concerning his pending divorce with his late wife, Reneé Landford-Jackson lately.

The lady was definitely showing her tail. Practically celebrating the ending of their once joyous union.

I guess that's how marriage works.

As far as Michael was concerned, he seemed fairly unbothered hence our encounter. Either that or he didn't believe in giving off symptoms of shame, and would much rather bury his sorrows in a woman.

He is a man after all. At least that's what my mother would say.

His public persona came off strictly professional. Nothing about him exuded a man who wanted to be married, or a man ready to spend is silver dollar on a stripper.

He wore too wore an Armani all black suit and red button down that appeared custom made tailored to his stature.

He was just as handsome as he appeared on television or the latest magazine. Not a flaw in sight and not even a half smile shown.

Just a look on his face that said all I needed to know, he could get exactly what he wanted at any moment.

His cologne nestled all around me, imprinting himself into my brain. I couldn't help, but be wrapped in the rapture of his presence and cowardice under his eye.

Not a moment passed as Tucker continued to introduce us.

"Domi meet Michael."