Olivia's POV:

God. Who'd ever think being a stripper was hard work? If only I could go back in time and simply tell myself the hardships I'd endure while begin a fucking stripper. I thought they made like easy money or something! Damn was I wrong.

I'd just finished a three hour shift, and to most people in the work-world, that probably doesn't seem that long. But to me, likely every other girl working here, it very well could pass off as an eternity.

I give my neck a couple rolls, feeling half disgusted and half satisfied when I hear a crack. As quickly as I can in these damn heels, I practically sprint to the change-rooms for the girls. Cherrie and Rose are back there, applying another thick coat of mascara and running their perfectly manicured fingers through their teased hair.

I flop into one of the plush chairs opposite of the many vanities, simply watching my co-workers as they do a double check on their makeup. Me, I personally am not a fan of the stuff. I bothers my skin, and makes my eyes water, but it's part of the job description, wearing makeup I mean. We have to look good for the customers.

"How was it Star? Is it busy?" Cherrie asked curiously whilst carefully lining her bottom eyelid in black liner.

I shrug as I unstrap my heels, sighing in relief once I step out of them, "it wasn't that busy. Typical Wednesday night I suppose."

They nod, like my words are reassuring or something. I skip over to my vanity, glad to be free of my shoes, and begin to wipe off my makeup. I wear the lightest makeup out of all the girls here, but that also just makes taking it off easier, plus, our clients for some reason tend to like the fact that I wear so little makeup, which usually leads to bigger tips for me!

When I first joined the strip club industry, I was ashamed, but I'd had nowhere else to go, no place would hire me since I didn't continue my education after high school. But now I'm quite comfortable, financially speaking.

The best part of my job is probably the people. My boss is actually really nice, he respects all the workers, and make sure we're both safe and comfortable with what it is we're doing. And the other girls and I are also super close. We support and help each other whenever we can, and often spend our time off together. We also call each other by our Stripper names. I don't know why, but it's like a tradition.

After my face is remotely makeup clear, I wish Cherrie and Rose good luck before grabbing my bag and heading home.

The club actually is pretty rich, and posh. Everything is new and sanitary, no cheap bimbo's here. I suppose that is why we're so successful, everyone is really professional, and since we're located in New York City, we have lots of cliental.

But that's only a small fraction of my life.

---

He ruined me. I didn't expect him to, if anything, I thought I'd be the one to ruin him. But he sunk his claws into my flesh and refused to let me go as he was dragged under. Pulling me along as he drowned. I suppose that is why he was, is and will always be the death of me.

Notes

New Story!!!

Woohoo!!!!

So this story is an Ashley Purdy fanfic, and while Andy is overall my favourite, (no offence to the other boys) I decided I'd try something new.

So it's really short, and complete shit quality, but this chapter is more of like getting to know that main character and her life.