Her Dark Protector

Velvet was her stage name. It shimmered like her costumes and clung to her body like the soft fabrics she wore under the red haze of the club lights. Every night, she danced under the neon halo, spinning, arching, gliding across the pole like a memory from a dream. It wasn’t ballet, Goddess, how far she'd fallen, but it was dance. It was still movement. It was still survival. Plus, she loved it. To be watched while she performed had been her attraction to ballet. To dance on a stage, watched by everyone. Her real name was Elise. Twenty-five years old. She was a former ballerina who had dreamed of the Royal Ballet as a child. From the age of five she trained in her local ballet school, practiced every day. Adhered to the strict diet regime of the Royal Ballet. She did everything she had to in order to get in. After she applied to her audition she didn’t sleep for days until she received the letter with the details. At nineteen years old she was going to realise her dreams. She created a beautiful routine with her teacher, and they worked on it for two months prior to the audition. When the day came, she was so nervous she couldn’t eat. She walked out onto the stage of the theatre; the spotlight was on her. She took a deep breath, the music started, and she danced. She put her whole heart into the performance. But close to the end she fell and twisted her ankle. There was a large lump, and she couldn’t stand. There were no tears when the ambulance arrived. Her teacher came with her. They took x-rays and gave her something for the pain at the hospital. But shed barely spoke. She knew deep down it was over. When they got the results from the doctor, they both knew her career was over before it even started. There would be a lengthy recovery, and all though she would dance again. She would never dance with the Royal Ballet. It had been a quiet ride home and weeks of recovery. Her parents worried about the depression she fell into, but they also knew there was nothing they could do. Even once her recovery was over and she could walk again. It took weeks to get back in a studio and start to move again. Never like she used though. It would never be like she used to. During the recovery she gave up the ballet diet and started to eat like a healthy young woman. She gained weight and put muscle onto her body. She filled out some of her curves and she felt better, almost human again. The next year Elise moved to the city anyway and started university. It was just a Bachelor of Arts, but it was something to distract her. Her parents were relieved she had started to focus on something else other than ballet and that her depression had lifted. They didn’t know she still had nights she cried herself to sleep. But she couldn’t stand staying in the house being constantly watched over by them. This gave her a sense of freedom and a way to find out what she would do with her life. She was only twenty and still had so much life. At university she started taking dance classes and working part time. Soon she was teaching classes as well to help pay for own. She did everything, hip hop, jazz, even pole dancing. She couldn’t bring herself to go back to the bar though. One night she walked into the ballet class and stared at herself in the mirror. She froze, barely recognising the girl looking back at her, fleeing from the room and back to her dormitory. During her last year at university with still no idea what to do, one of the girls from her pole dancing class suggested she come with her to an audition at a club. Elise knew what kind of club it would be. Her friend was very explicit. But her friend also told her how much she could earn, and Elise couldn’t turn away from the opportunity. Elise was anxious. The last audition she did ended her ballet career. This felt different though. It was a completely different stage, and she was a completely different person now. When she got up on the stage, she forgot she was being watched and just let herself be taken by the music. Before long the music ended and everyone in the room was quiet for a moment. She was about to leave the stage when they all stood and started clapping. ‘Wow, girl, I have no idea where you learnt to dance like that, but I want you to dance here.’ And so, Velvet was born. At La Lune Noire, the high-end gentlemen’s club tucked away behind gold-trimmed doors and velvet ropes, Elise found a strange kind of stage. Her audience wasn’t theatre-goers; they were men in suits, or tattoos, or both. Some were drunk. Some were lonely. Some were quiet. Only the elite of the city entered this place. Many of which had memberships which paid the girls salaries along with the tips they could earn from private dances. Velvet gave her fair share of private dances. She never thought she would enjoy this life. But it was an easier one than she thought. Her parents just thought she worked as an administration assistant and part time as a dance teacher. She would never tell her parents the truth and she was okay with that. They had never really been a close family. They had drifted further apart while she was at university. She would go home every so often for the weekend but that was it now. There was safety in the club. There was a no touching policy that the bouncers took very seriously. It rarely happened due to the clientele. But they had all heard stories from other clubs and Velvet was happy to here. All the girls were happy to be here. The girls were a tight knit group. Even when they weren’t at the club they were usually out together socialising or shopping. Velvet danced every night. She had randomly picked the name after staring at the curtains at the entrance of the club. They were a beautiful dark green velvet, with gold rope trim. They had been so soft to touch when she entered the space. Her brain went straight to them when they asked for her stage name. She just hoped that no one else had the same thought. They hadn’t and her new life was born. All her outfits were made of velvet and lace, all especially made for her by the club’s tailor. They were perfectly fitted outfits that she could dance in, remove and collect back with ease. She didn’t always strip, but she was confident in her body that she didn’t mind going down to a g-string in front of these strangers. With the lights on her she couldn’t tell if there was anyone watching or not. It made it easier when she stripped. But when she danced, she loved to see the audience, she thrived on it. There were ten girls who danced at the club regularly. Each of them had their own persona they carried on stage. But behind the scenes they all had their stories and reasons for being here. They were also all amazing dancers. The club only hired the best. The dressing area behind the stage was filled with clothes racks for each girl, with a make up table and space to change. The girls could chat and get ready together without sharing a space. Considering most of their tables were full of gifts, flowers and cards from the clients of the club. Cherry had the biggest collection. She had a special client. He sponsored her. He took her on dates, he had bought her an apartment and paid for everything for her. Everyone called him her sugar daddy. Cherry was 28, he was 46, and incredibly handsome. She didn’t care about the joke, when you looked at her you knew that she cared for him. She didn’t talk about him much, they suspected he was already married. But most of the girls wanted that for themselves as well, someone to take them away from the club, someone who would love them. Velvet understood that, but she never wanted it. She liked her life. She lived how she wanted with no one telling her what to do. Yes, she got lonely, but there was always someone willing to help her when she needed. She also knew that Cherry’s sponsor would be nothing more than that, he was married with children and would never leave his wive. Cherry knew that, but continued the lie to everyone else, it was part of the stage persona, it was what the people wanted.