Vivid Lies Read Online Free
Author: Alyne Robers
the good girl, ending up with the charming boy next door.
"He's our best friend, Brooklyn. And I don't know if I need a relationship right now."
Brooklyn sighs and sets her empty bowl on the beat-up coffee table we found at a flea market. I sit back and wait for the speech.
"No, no one really needs a relationship. Doesn't mean you don't get to have one. Doesn't mean Miles can't be more to you than a mid-morning cuddle buddy."
"It would ruin our friendship."
"Doesn't have to. He obviously isn't planning on going anywhere. He moved down here too, London. He did that for you. He has nothing to run from."
"He did that for both of us."
"Maybe." She shrugs. "He isn't crawling into my bed in the middle of the night when his gigs end."
After the move, Miles joined a local band as a guitarist and found his own apartment. He could have gone home, but he insisted he didn't want to leave us. As much as he does love us both, he treats me a little differently than he does Brooklyn.
I sigh and lean my head back. When did it all get so complicated?
"I feel like I should concentrate on getting us back on our feet and getting Through the Lens going."
"London, you don't need to take care of both of us all the damn time. We raised ourselves and have been through it all together. Together. Now, we came down here to start over . . . so start over."
I bite my lip and look at her. She's so full of confidence, never afraid to just take what she wants. I am terrified, thinking of all the ways it could go wrong or ruin our friendship. Ruin everything.
"I think it's time we take control of our lives."
She's right. For too long we bended, molded, and melted for each other and everyone else. We left to have a life. I just don't know what that life looks like yet.
I have something I never had before. A chance to be just London. Not London and Brooklyn. Not one half of something, but just me.
For the first time in my life I can have something to myself. I can be myself.
F OUR
Brooklyn
Some might think that stripping is degrading. People might think that it's the last resort to keep afloat when you're being pulled under too deep. It's embarrassing, disgusting, and shameful.
If find it empowering, enlightening, and exciting. It's my way of controlling my life and the audience.
In this club, I never feel ashamed or dirty. I feel sexy and powerful. I am still the rebel and I'm okay with that. I feel alive.
Sometimes you just need to own who you really are.
I watch another girl work the pole. Money carpets the shiny stage.
I'm envious of her but not because of the dollar bills that she will earn. It's her moves and the way she gracefully floats across the stage. Her body swings around the silver pole as though she is weightless. She bends and twirls, contorting her body so that you can't tear your eyes away from her.
Tonight, I will take the pole for the first time during business hours. I've been watching the girls and practicing before and after my shift when no one is around. I'm ready to feel the rush of performing for the crowd. Performing in the VIP rooms is very different from being on the stage.
I wear a red leather bra with a matching thong. Covering it all, I have on an oversized leather jacket. I found it at a thrift shop. Even though I'm swimming in it, it's what's underneath that they want to see. My black boots come to my knees and my makeup is dark. I look like a badass.
Curiously, I scan the tables for Kane. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved that he's not here.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my bare thighs. I will be up soon and I run the routine over in my head.
The men who drool over the dancers have no idea what goes into a performance. They see skin and fantasy. They have no idea the strength and preparation, not only physically but mentally, that goes into the three minutes they see.
The rush is what we are all chasing in this dim and loud room.
When I
"He's our best friend, Brooklyn. And I don't know if I need a relationship right now."
Brooklyn sighs and sets her empty bowl on the beat-up coffee table we found at a flea market. I sit back and wait for the speech.
"No, no one really needs a relationship. Doesn't mean you don't get to have one. Doesn't mean Miles can't be more to you than a mid-morning cuddle buddy."
"It would ruin our friendship."
"Doesn't have to. He obviously isn't planning on going anywhere. He moved down here too, London. He did that for you. He has nothing to run from."
"He did that for both of us."
"Maybe." She shrugs. "He isn't crawling into my bed in the middle of the night when his gigs end."
After the move, Miles joined a local band as a guitarist and found his own apartment. He could have gone home, but he insisted he didn't want to leave us. As much as he does love us both, he treats me a little differently than he does Brooklyn.
I sigh and lean my head back. When did it all get so complicated?
"I feel like I should concentrate on getting us back on our feet and getting Through the Lens going."
"London, you don't need to take care of both of us all the damn time. We raised ourselves and have been through it all together. Together. Now, we came down here to start over . . . so start over."
I bite my lip and look at her. She's so full of confidence, never afraid to just take what she wants. I am terrified, thinking of all the ways it could go wrong or ruin our friendship. Ruin everything.
"I think it's time we take control of our lives."
She's right. For too long we bended, molded, and melted for each other and everyone else. We left to have a life. I just don't know what that life looks like yet.
I have something I never had before. A chance to be just London. Not London and Brooklyn. Not one half of something, but just me.
For the first time in my life I can have something to myself. I can be myself.
F OUR
Brooklyn
Some might think that stripping is degrading. People might think that it's the last resort to keep afloat when you're being pulled under too deep. It's embarrassing, disgusting, and shameful.
If find it empowering, enlightening, and exciting. It's my way of controlling my life and the audience.
In this club, I never feel ashamed or dirty. I feel sexy and powerful. I am still the rebel and I'm okay with that. I feel alive.
Sometimes you just need to own who you really are.
I watch another girl work the pole. Money carpets the shiny stage.
I'm envious of her but not because of the dollar bills that she will earn. It's her moves and the way she gracefully floats across the stage. Her body swings around the silver pole as though she is weightless. She bends and twirls, contorting her body so that you can't tear your eyes away from her.
Tonight, I will take the pole for the first time during business hours. I've been watching the girls and practicing before and after my shift when no one is around. I'm ready to feel the rush of performing for the crowd. Performing in the VIP rooms is very different from being on the stage.
I wear a red leather bra with a matching thong. Covering it all, I have on an oversized leather jacket. I found it at a thrift shop. Even though I'm swimming in it, it's what's underneath that they want to see. My black boots come to my knees and my makeup is dark. I look like a badass.
Curiously, I scan the tables for Kane. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved that he's not here.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my bare thighs. I will be up soon and I run the routine over in my head.
The men who drool over the dancers have no idea what goes into a performance. They see skin and fantasy. They have no idea the strength and preparation, not only physically but mentally, that goes into the three minutes they see.
The rush is what we are all chasing in this dim and loud room.
When I
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