by
Kat
Chapter 1
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Sexual references, drug references
Category: Drama, romance
Summary: Meet Michelle the main character.
Disclaimer: All characters are original characters and copyrighted by me, though some are based on real people.
Here we go again. It�s the same thing since the beginning of the week. It's now Thursday.
I sit in my place and wait. The others come in one by one. I�m not the kind of girl who ignores people. I love talking and meeting new people, but it�s not the day for it. It hasn't been the day for it in several days.The only thing I want is to run home, hide in my bed and stay there forever.
When everybody was seated, Mr. Richards came in, smiling as usual. He's very nice. Even though I hadn't wanted to be here at first, he was very understanding and patient. He has to be anyway, it�s his job. With his eternal block-note, he takes a seat in the circle between a man and a woman.
�Good morning people.� He says warmly. �I hope that everybody slept well and that you are ready to continue on our topic of the week.�
A ball of stress appeared in my throat. The topic! I completely forgot it. I began to play with my bracelet as I always do when I�m stressed. It's made of leather, but it�s feminine. It�s not large, just perfect. My dad gave it to me when I was 16. I remember the very day�
��so today we will listen�� His voice brings me back to reality. �Michelle Harris.� His eyes looked for me and found me. �Do you want to talk to us?�
I don�t have a choice, really. I have to do it. That�s why I�m here. I nod. I want to talk about it, it�s true, but it�s not easy to do and even harder to recognize my mistakes.
�So, Miss Harris. Tell us some things about yourself first. You know family, friends, things like that,� he says to me.
�Ok�humm first call me Michelle." I smile as everyone says my name. �Well, I�m from Montreal. My mom left us, me and my dad, when I was 9 years old. We came here to Toronto for my dad�s job when I was 16. I'm 20 now. When I asked my mom why she left us she said that she never loved me, that it all happened because of me....that it was my fault. I don�t know where she is now and honestly I don�t care. When we moved here, I met a girl, Suzy. We're still friends but we don�t see each other very often. She�s my only friend. Well, she was until a couple of months�� I take a deep breath as I see his face in my head.
�Ok. Good Michelle. Now what about your job?� Mister Richards asks me.
�It�s because of Suzy that I got my job. She brought me there one night and I met Barry.....Barry was always a nice guy. The first time I saw him, he told me that I was what he had been looking for for a long time. I found that cute and smart.�
I look Mister Richards directly in the eyes. �At this time, I didn�t know that he was saying this to all of the girls.�
I glance back down to my bracelet. �When I asked him why he wanted me he told me that he had been looking for a real artist and that I was one. I know what you're thinking-- that the people who work in this business are not real artists-- but you will never see a normal girl raise her leg straight up in the air without at least a few dance classes. I began to work for him a few weeks after our first meeting. I made a lot of money and soonafter, I was able to buy an apartment. My own apartment. At the beginning, I was only on stage. With 4 or 5 dances I very easily made $500 each night. After some time, I began the private dances without contact. For each dance, it was $150 more. It�s a lot of money.�
I look at Mister Richards again and he smiles. �I know what you�re thinking again: How could she think that it was a lot of money when she didn�t respect her own body? You have to know, Mister Richards, that it�s not about my body, it�s a way of life. My dad wasn�t home for me and the money wasn�t there either. So I found my own way to get some. It�s not about respect either. The respect that you�re talking about doesn�t exist where I worked. When I was passing through the door to do my work, my respect was waiting for me outside and when I was passing the exit door, I was taking it back again."
I continued on, "so, after about three weeks, Barry told me that it was time for me to do private dances WITH contact. I knew that I would make more money than before, but I wasn�t into this anymore.....but when you�re working for someone, you don�t have a choice. All the girls with whom I was working didn�t stop to tell me that I would love it because of the money-- but when the men were putting their hands on my body, I didn�t see the money anymore�it was his eyes that were haunting my head. Those eyes�they are still haunting me in my dreams. I never asked for him and he never asked for this. It was all I had dreamed, well without my lies. Not lies about my feelings, it was lies about my life�about who I was. Anyway, that�s why I�m here now.� I finish, clapping my hands on my thighs.
�Very good Michelle. I�m happy that you opened up more.� Mister Richards says, looking me in the eye. Lowering his glance to his papers, he plays with his pen: �But something in your story intrigues me�You often evoke �he� or �him� in it. Who is it?�
I think he saw me tense up as he asked the question because he smiled at me as if to encourage me to continue.
�He is my mistake and he is the reason why I�m here.� I can�t stop my chuckles. �Well, he doesn�t know that he�s my reason.�
�So he is your subject right?� Mister Richards asks me. Seeing my nod he continues. �Ok Michelle, so do as everyone else has done. Begin with your presentation.�
I stand up, playing more with my bracelet than before. My heart is jumping in my chest.
�Hi everyone, I�m Michelle and I�m here because I have been a stripper for the past 3 years.� I catch my breath as if it was breathtaking to reveal this.
�Tell me Michelle�� I locked my glance with Mr. Richards' as he asked me, �What is your biggest mistake?�
�My biggest mistake is that I let him go without a fight.� My eyes fill with tears as I remember the last look he gave me. Hurt, anger and...love were fighting in his eyes at that moment. His eyes were full of tenderness and softness before, his piercing blue eyes....I close my eyes, remembering them.
�And this �him� you speak of, does he have a name?�
I open my eyes and with a trembling voice, I whisper: �Hayden.�