*A/N: Hey everybody! This is my new story. This is notlike a diary entry thing, I just think its an awesome title! I hope you like this story as much I already enjoying writing it. I am going to finish Crush earlier than I thought, or I might just end it and work on this one. Well enjoy! Remember to comment and stuff. I love y'all!**
"Annabelle, go to table three, it's a bachelor party!" my boss, Vinnie yelled to me. I smiled and walked over to the table and looked at the group of men. They are not really good looking, not even the lucky bachelor is not even hot. I don't care, I just love to watch their cocks get hard and wanting to touch me. I stood on the table and looked at the lucky man. "Well, well, well, what do I have here? A bachelor! When is your wedding day sweetheart?" I said in my seductive voice.
"Tomorrow, my fiancé doesn't know I am here," the man said. He has red hair, brown eyes and some freckles. His nose looks like its been punched several times and he has very thin lips. Who would fuck him? I wouldn't! "Well, I bet she is having fun herself baby doll, what do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Bend over so I can see your pussy," the guy said.
"Honey, you cannot see it, it's covered by my bottoms!"
"Okay, then dance for me and shake those huge tits in my face!" I winked at him and I wrapped my legs around the pole and slid down it then danced and wiggled my tits in his face. I knew he liked it because he tried to reach for them, and I popped his hand and clicked my tongue at him. I danced for him for another fifteen minutes and the bachelor and his friends gave me a total of two hundred dollars in tips and I stuffed it down my bra. I looked up at the clock and it's the end of my shift. I actually hated the end of my shift because the fun is over. I walked to the dressing room and Rebeckah Upton, my best friend since middle school, smiled at me.
"Peter is taking me out tomorrow since its my day off," Becky said and I smiled.
"I wish I had a man that would take me out to dinner," I said taking my stripper bra off and putting my casual one on.
"Anna, you don't want a relationship and every man you been with gets freaked out that you are an exotic dancer."
"I thought being a stripper would be a major turn on, but if you don't have a reason why you are one, maybe it turns them off." Yes, I don't have a reason why I am an exotic dancer, or stripper, whatever you want to call it. I am a stripper because I want to be one. I was raised in a small California town, a major religious community. My father, the deacon to the church I attended my whole life, raised me and wanted me to be this Christen girl that will grow up and be a loving wife and mother. Hell no, I want to be free! So, when I turned eighteen, I high tailed my ass out of town, came down to LA, and began to be a stripper. Becky was close behind me, she married her husband, Peter Upton, and they moved to LA. Peter is a male model and quite successful for being only twenty-one years old. He doesn't care that she is a stripper, he just don't want her to go as far as sleeping with her clients. I sat down in front of the mirror and brushed out the glitter in my blonde hair and wiped the excessive make up around my dark brown eyes. I put on my tight blue jeans and my tee shirt and Rebeckah and I walked out of the club. On my way out, my other friend, which I met at the strip club, Lila, smiled at me and gave me a hug. Her beautiful brunette hair is fixed to look seductive and her blue eyes shine the room. "Well, you have a fun night, Lila!" I said and she laughed. Rebeckah's fiery red hair is already in her car, waiting on me.
"I will and you know it!" Lila said winking at me. All of us strippers are actually nineteen years old. Don't ask why Vinnie hires very young girls, but he does. The oldest woman here is twenty-two years old and she is fixing to graduate from UCLA, so she is leaving us. I got in Becky's car and she drove me to my apartment which is just downstairs from her own place. It's a pretty nice place, a loft really. It looks out onto the Los Angeles skyline. It's what I always wanted. Being a stripper is not a money maker, it's the tips that is the money maker. I get paid minimum wage full time. I bring home thousands of dollars in tips sometimes. I tossed my bag onto my couch and I went to the kitchen and grabbed a soda. It's seven o'clock at night and I have nothing to do. I really do want a relationship, but I still want to be free. I been closed in my whole fucking life. I had to dress a certain way, act a certain way, hell, even TALK a certain way. I recently starting cursing when I moved to LA a year ago! I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and grabbed one. I lit on up and let the trail of smoke leave my lips slowly. I love my life. I live by myself, living by my own rules, it's perfect. "FUCKING COUCH!" a man said down the hall. I walked out to the hallway and I seen a very sexy man, probably twenty-five, trying to put a couch into the apartment next door. "Hey mister, need some help?" I asked. He looked at me and his blue eyes looked straight at me and my heart skipped a beat. His dark hair is messy and I can tell that he doesn't care that it is. "Can you? This couch is being a pain in the ass," he said and I smiled. I climbed over the couch and got inside the empty apartment and tilted the couch and helped him get it inside. We carried it to the living room and sat it down. "Thanks…"
"Oh sorry, Annabelle Lee," I said giving him my hand.
"Jason Robbins, I just moved in as you can tell," Jason said and I smiled.
"I moved in here about a year ago from Susanville." Yes, that is the name of my town. It is VERY far away from Los Angeles, it was a nine hour drive!
"I moved from Eureka, a good size town, but I want more opportunities in life."
"Yeah, same here. Well, I am next door if you need anything." I waved at him and went to my apartment. I sat around for another few hours and around ten, my cell phone rang. I looked at it and its UCLA medical center. Why would a hospital call me? I answered and I heard a lot of commotion in the background. "Anna, its Becky, it's Lila…
I never rushed to the hospital that fast. I ran to the emergency room and Becky and a few strippers is standing outside a room. I looked at Becky and she motioned me to the vending area. "Lila went out for a smoking break and a man attacked her. He was a client of hers tonight and didn't give him sex, so he um…" Becky didn't have to finish. I sat down in a chair and covered my face.
"What else did he do other than rape her?" I asked.
"He stabbed her a few times in her chest. They are not giving her much hope. She already has a collapsed lung and a lot of internal bleeding. She may have a few hours left," Becky said with tears building in her brown eyes. I began to cry and Becky wrapped her arms around me. My friend is going to die. What is wrong with this world. I remember my mother telling me "Being a stripper will kill you," maybe she is right. I better be careful if I want to remain a stripper. "Can we go see her? I want to see Lila," I said and Becky nodded.
"We wanted to wait on you," Becky said wiping tears from her eyes. We walked into the hospital room where Lila is laying, unconscious. The nurse looked at me and started to explain about Lila. "They had to put a trach in her cause of the collapsed lung. She is heavily sedated and she already showing signs of kidney failure. Dr. Kutz is giving her less than twenty-four hours to live," the nurse said and I began to cry again. I ran to Lila's right side and grabbed her tiny hand. My poor Lila, being an exotic dancer has killed her. It ended her nineteen years of life. That left me thinking, do I have the same fate?