Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Dance like nobody's watching. Love like you've never been hurt.
Ch.2: I'll refrain from hiding all of me from you.
1 reviewPray for rain, lose your name and watch all your dreams fall through.
1Original
Both girls were led through the back catwalk, which ended in three doors. There wasn’t any tag or piece of information on them, but Frank, the club’s head of security, walked resolutely to the left door and knocked briefly before opening it.
“Wait here, girls.” He said with a smirk and a wink. Anya looked at Angie.
“You look way nervous. Relax.” Angie said with a little laugh.
“Yeah, I bet flirting with that Frank guy was relaxing enough for you.” Anya said, fixing her hair and adjusting her tank top for the 100th time. Angie shrugged and smiled.
“Hey, he was cute. And stop it! You look fine.”
“Mr. Way is ready to see you.”The door opened again and Frank flashed them a sweet smile. “Who’s going first?”
“I thought… we were- could go together.” Anya said, raising an eyebrow and feeling ready to run away.
“Aw, sorry sweeties, but interviews, as in any other job, are individual.” Frank said and looked at Angie. “Since your friend here is a little nervous, wanna go first?”
“It doesn't matter to me…” Angie gave Frank a smile and then looked at Anya. “Do you want to get it over with? Or do you want to wait?”
“By all means, you go first.” Anya grumbled. Angie grinned.
“This way…” Frank reached out for Angie to take his hand and led her into the office, coming back out a couple of seconds later. “You’re not going to try and escape, right?” Frank said to Anya. She didn’t answer, instead stared at the door where her friend had disappeared not long ago wondering how the hell do they interview you in a strip club?
.-
Angie stepped into the gloomy room. There was a faint smell of men’s cologne mixed with tons of smoke, smoke that loomed above the desk in front of her. At one side there was a black leather couch, just below the only window, which was dirty enough to filter most of the light. There were some chairs around the room as well and a coffee machine on the back and a man sitting behind the desk, laptop aside, blowing up smoke to the cloud on his head.
“Angela Efron. Take a seat, please.” The dark brown haired man on the desk read a file out loud, motioning Angie near. “20 years old, Pediatric nurse student, huh…” He said taking a drag of his smoke. “So…” He said looking at her this time. “What brings you here… ‘Honeybee’?” He said reading out the stage name Angie had picked up for herself.
“Well, what would bring any young woman my age here Sir? I'm in school, and my friend and I are on our own and have bills. I refuse even try to make money selling cheeseburgers, and I have class during the day anyway…”
Mr. Way took another drag of his smoke. “Fair enough. And what makes you think you can handle this work? Have you ever tried anything… similar?”
“Me? No, never! I can dance, but I've never done... this... before.” Angie gulped. The smallest trace of a smile crept on the man’s lips.
“Well, give it a try then.” He said, smashing his smoke on an ash tray and getting up, walking around the desk and pointing Angie to something she hadn’t seen in her first inspection of the office.
A pole.
Angie’s eyes went wide.
“Like now? Um... okay.” She got up and walked to the pole, wrapping one hand around it, managing to put on her brave big girl pants and a sly smile. “Do I need to undress?”
The man’s smirk was evident now. “That’s optional. I just need to see you dance.” His slim figure rested on the desk now, while he watched Angie, waiting for her to start.
“Okay…” Taking his smirk as a bit of a challenge, Angie lifted her shirt over her head while staring at him and began to dance. The man stared at her through her little routine, though she couldn’t really read anything on his face. After a few minutes, he made her stop.
“That would be enough. You have potential, girl, and I’m going to give you the job. One thing though…” He said lighting another smoke while Angie got her shirt back on. “I know you haven’t started college yet, so during the day you’ll go to this place.” He handed her a business card. “It’s a dance school, they’ll help you get started.”
Angie looked at the card and shrugged. “So… when do I start?”
“Tomorrow. 6 pm. So you better go to the dance lessons in the morning, so you don’t get here too sore.” He added, blowing out smoke. “You’ll sign your contract tomorrow too.” He handed her a copy. “Read it tonight and any question you have will be answered tomorrow.”
Angie frowned at the cig smoke. “Thanks… Should I send Anya in?”
“Please…” He nodded curtly.
Angie left the room and as soon as she walked out, was attacked by Anya.
“How did it go?” Anya asked anxiously. Frank was gone, Angie noticed.
“He made me dance. AND he's sending me for pole dancing lessons!”
“Wait, is that a good thing?”
“I guess. He knows stripping.” Angie chuckled. “He has really intense eyes too… but you'll be fine.”
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this…” Anya muttered, but before Angie could say anything, she decided it was better to get over with this now.
.-
Michael Way smashed the cigarette after one last drag, scribbling on Angie’s file and signing it at the bottom. Angie was okay, he thought, she wasn’t a professional, but with a little practice she’d be shining in no time. He wondered if big brother Gerard would approve of this move. Gerard was very apprehensive of the girls they hired for the club. But he wasn’t around, having business to attend, so he’d have to trust his own judgment.
The door creaked open again, and Michael knew it was Angie’s friend. In the semi darkness of the room, he could make out her figure, long, thin and extremely pale. Michael took a look at her file and nearly smiled at her stage name.
“Anya McCarthy, please take a seat.” He said in a polite voice. Anya obeyed without a word. “21 years old, Creative writing student. Interesting…” Michael leaned back on his chair and looked at her. “So... ‘Icicle’. Tell me. Why are you here?”
“Well, we need the money and we thought it was a good idea to work at night, since we have classes during the day.” Anya said somewhat nervously.
Michael cocked his head to the side while he listened, vaguely intrigued by her. “That makes sense… Are you nervous or something? Don't be. I won't bite.” He said, still staring. That didn’t make Anya any more comfortable. “Have you ever danced before?”
Anya shook her head. “Not on a pole…”
“Well then. Mind giving it a try?” Michael said, motioning to the pole. Anya took a deep breath and stood up.
“Um, do I have to strip too? Or just dance?” Anya looked straight at him for the first time since she had entered the office.
Michael nearly choked, but managed to remain cool. “Whatever you’d prefer.”
Anya nodded and lost the shoes, gripping the pole with one hand and closing her eyes, dancing around. Michael gazed her intensely, not only because she was a great dancer, but also because she looked so much like… someone he used to know. Michael shook his head clear of old ghosts and made Anya stop.
“Thanks, Anya. We're done here. You've got the job.” He said.
“Really?” Anya looked at him surprised.
“Yeah, join your friend Angela in dance lessons and you both can come back tomorrow at 6pm to sign your contracts and start working.” He added, sitting on his desk and handing Anya the contract.
“Thanks!” Anya said, visibly more relaxed and kind of smiling. Michael avoided looking at her. “I- I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She added, picking up her shoes and leaving the room.
Michael slumped on the chair and lit another smoke, rubbing his temple. He knew Gerard would have nothing good to say about hiring this particular girl and the worst was that part of him agreed.
“Wait here, girls.” He said with a smirk and a wink. Anya looked at Angie.
“You look way nervous. Relax.” Angie said with a little laugh.
“Yeah, I bet flirting with that Frank guy was relaxing enough for you.” Anya said, fixing her hair and adjusting her tank top for the 100th time. Angie shrugged and smiled.
“Hey, he was cute. And stop it! You look fine.”
“Mr. Way is ready to see you.”The door opened again and Frank flashed them a sweet smile. “Who’s going first?”
“I thought… we were- could go together.” Anya said, raising an eyebrow and feeling ready to run away.
“Aw, sorry sweeties, but interviews, as in any other job, are individual.” Frank said and looked at Angie. “Since your friend here is a little nervous, wanna go first?”
“It doesn't matter to me…” Angie gave Frank a smile and then looked at Anya. “Do you want to get it over with? Or do you want to wait?”
“By all means, you go first.” Anya grumbled. Angie grinned.
“This way…” Frank reached out for Angie to take his hand and led her into the office, coming back out a couple of seconds later. “You’re not going to try and escape, right?” Frank said to Anya. She didn’t answer, instead stared at the door where her friend had disappeared not long ago wondering how the hell do they interview you in a strip club?
.-
Angie stepped into the gloomy room. There was a faint smell of men’s cologne mixed with tons of smoke, smoke that loomed above the desk in front of her. At one side there was a black leather couch, just below the only window, which was dirty enough to filter most of the light. There were some chairs around the room as well and a coffee machine on the back and a man sitting behind the desk, laptop aside, blowing up smoke to the cloud on his head.
“Angela Efron. Take a seat, please.” The dark brown haired man on the desk read a file out loud, motioning Angie near. “20 years old, Pediatric nurse student, huh…” He said taking a drag of his smoke. “So…” He said looking at her this time. “What brings you here… ‘Honeybee’?” He said reading out the stage name Angie had picked up for herself.
“Well, what would bring any young woman my age here Sir? I'm in school, and my friend and I are on our own and have bills. I refuse even try to make money selling cheeseburgers, and I have class during the day anyway…”
Mr. Way took another drag of his smoke. “Fair enough. And what makes you think you can handle this work? Have you ever tried anything… similar?”
“Me? No, never! I can dance, but I've never done... this... before.” Angie gulped. The smallest trace of a smile crept on the man’s lips.
“Well, give it a try then.” He said, smashing his smoke on an ash tray and getting up, walking around the desk and pointing Angie to something she hadn’t seen in her first inspection of the office.
A pole.
Angie’s eyes went wide.
“Like now? Um... okay.” She got up and walked to the pole, wrapping one hand around it, managing to put on her brave big girl pants and a sly smile. “Do I need to undress?”
The man’s smirk was evident now. “That’s optional. I just need to see you dance.” His slim figure rested on the desk now, while he watched Angie, waiting for her to start.
“Okay…” Taking his smirk as a bit of a challenge, Angie lifted her shirt over her head while staring at him and began to dance. The man stared at her through her little routine, though she couldn’t really read anything on his face. After a few minutes, he made her stop.
“That would be enough. You have potential, girl, and I’m going to give you the job. One thing though…” He said lighting another smoke while Angie got her shirt back on. “I know you haven’t started college yet, so during the day you’ll go to this place.” He handed her a business card. “It’s a dance school, they’ll help you get started.”
Angie looked at the card and shrugged. “So… when do I start?”
“Tomorrow. 6 pm. So you better go to the dance lessons in the morning, so you don’t get here too sore.” He added, blowing out smoke. “You’ll sign your contract tomorrow too.” He handed her a copy. “Read it tonight and any question you have will be answered tomorrow.”
Angie frowned at the cig smoke. “Thanks… Should I send Anya in?”
“Please…” He nodded curtly.
Angie left the room and as soon as she walked out, was attacked by Anya.
“How did it go?” Anya asked anxiously. Frank was gone, Angie noticed.
“He made me dance. AND he's sending me for pole dancing lessons!”
“Wait, is that a good thing?”
“I guess. He knows stripping.” Angie chuckled. “He has really intense eyes too… but you'll be fine.”
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this…” Anya muttered, but before Angie could say anything, she decided it was better to get over with this now.
.-
Michael Way smashed the cigarette after one last drag, scribbling on Angie’s file and signing it at the bottom. Angie was okay, he thought, she wasn’t a professional, but with a little practice she’d be shining in no time. He wondered if big brother Gerard would approve of this move. Gerard was very apprehensive of the girls they hired for the club. But he wasn’t around, having business to attend, so he’d have to trust his own judgment.
The door creaked open again, and Michael knew it was Angie’s friend. In the semi darkness of the room, he could make out her figure, long, thin and extremely pale. Michael took a look at her file and nearly smiled at her stage name.
“Anya McCarthy, please take a seat.” He said in a polite voice. Anya obeyed without a word. “21 years old, Creative writing student. Interesting…” Michael leaned back on his chair and looked at her. “So... ‘Icicle’. Tell me. Why are you here?”
“Well, we need the money and we thought it was a good idea to work at night, since we have classes during the day.” Anya said somewhat nervously.
Michael cocked his head to the side while he listened, vaguely intrigued by her. “That makes sense… Are you nervous or something? Don't be. I won't bite.” He said, still staring. That didn’t make Anya any more comfortable. “Have you ever danced before?”
Anya shook her head. “Not on a pole…”
“Well then. Mind giving it a try?” Michael said, motioning to the pole. Anya took a deep breath and stood up.
“Um, do I have to strip too? Or just dance?” Anya looked straight at him for the first time since she had entered the office.
Michael nearly choked, but managed to remain cool. “Whatever you’d prefer.”
Anya nodded and lost the shoes, gripping the pole with one hand and closing her eyes, dancing around. Michael gazed her intensely, not only because she was a great dancer, but also because she looked so much like… someone he used to know. Michael shook his head clear of old ghosts and made Anya stop.
“Thanks, Anya. We're done here. You've got the job.” He said.
“Really?” Anya looked at him surprised.
“Yeah, join your friend Angela in dance lessons and you both can come back tomorrow at 6pm to sign your contracts and start working.” He added, sitting on his desk and handing Anya the contract.
“Thanks!” Anya said, visibly more relaxed and kind of smiling. Michael avoided looking at her. “I- I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She added, picking up her shoes and leaving the room.
Michael slumped on the chair and lit another smoke, rubbing his temple. He knew Gerard would have nothing good to say about hiring this particular girl and the worst was that part of him agreed.
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