FicWad

"C'mon out, Showtime Virgin!" the DJ proclaimed, announcing the waiting girl's cue. It was her time to shine. Her first performance. This was a real milestone for the young lady.

"That's us,"Miriallia spoke. Her voice was raised enough to be heard over the background noise of the club, but intimate enough that Lacus knew to whom the statement was directed. It was as though they had been called in from the waiting room of a clinic to see the doctor.

Lacus swallowed a mouthful of air that seemed to slip down her throat like thick mucus. The girl felt her earlier nervousness well up inside her. Pre-show jitters, or something similar. Could she really go through with this?

She felt the other girl's hand touch her own, fingers interlaced. Lacus felt her own eyes widen as they turned their attention to the brunette.

"It'll be fine,"Miriallia assured her. "It's not so bad, trust me. You can do it... we can do it. It'll be fine."

Once again, Lacus swallowed. Her salivary glands seemed to be working in excess this night.

"It'll be easy."Taking a breath, Lacus finally nodded, a look of determination upon her face."Just follow my lead, okay?" Releasing her breath, Lacus nodded.

"I'm ready," she spoke. She had to do this. There was no other choice. If there were, she would not even be here, in this seedy nightclub in a rundown corner of the city's entertainment district. She would be far from here, in the safety of her apartment. She would be safe and warm, asleep, in dreams of a much more pleasant nature. Instead, she was here. Dressed in... she couldn't describe it. Her current costume, Lacus wore more than this to bed at night.

The girl shook the objecting thoughts from her head. She couldn't think about this now. She hadn't the time. She couldn't go through all of this in her mind. Not now. Not again. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. When they at last opened, the girl's features were graced with a smile.

A smile. The look of a girl who was about to have the time of her life. A girl about to dance. She enjoyed it, she was good at it. It had always been a natural talent of hers.

It was time to get this sordid ordeal over with. Then she could leave. Only then could she take her much needed money and get as far away from these people and this horrible place as she possibly could. "Let's go," the pinkette said. Her voice appeared soft. Higher in pitch than it had before, and that guiltless grin.

So this was the girl's pseudonym? This was her mask, her costume. It was an excellent choice. The vulnerability and innocence of a young girl. The happy, carefree optimism of a ditzy airhead. The charisma, charm, and attraction of a confident, beautiful young woman. This pink-haired girl appeared to have it all.

Miriallia knew why the pinkette had chosen such a fa