Cherry Coloured - Alex Turner

2. Certified Mind Blower

As had become routine in her life, Cherry found herself walking up to work in the dark of night for the ninth night in a row. The decency of a day off had been stolen from her by a simple call from her manager five hours earlier. There was no choice in covering a vacant shift, not even so much the illusion of it. With the weight of her bag matching the weight of fatigue sitting heavy on her shoulders, Cherry made her way to her area in the dressing room with eyes wide shut.

Not one to let sleep deprivation get the best of her, she drew sand in lines and cleaned them up with a sharp inhale before so much as glancing at herself in the mirror. Tonight, a double hit to keep her moving.

Wiping her nose, Cherry took on her reflection and began transforming herself from the borderline insomniac struggling to pay rent into the dazzling plastic persona she'd perfected over the years. Taping bandaids over her blistered heels and pulling on her white wig, she fastened on her thick, glittering shoes and shrugged out of the noir leather coat that had been sheathing her uniform.

"Cherry!" The sudden calm of her name caused her to jump. Looking over her shoulder, her face fell upon seeing that of her manager's making its way over to her. "I've got you on stage in ten," was the first thing he said to her.

Not even thank you for filling in last minute? She thought to herself. "I'm good Blake, thanks for asking," she instead said out loud.

"Then in one of the cages from one to two," Blake continued without so much as listening to her remark. "Don't worry, I won't make you be on the floor or doing private sessions today, I just need you filling in Belle's spots."

"Can I leave after two?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah, should be fine," Blake said dismissively and then checked his watch, "alright, you better warm up. It's busy tonight, lots of eager lads."

"Of course," Cherry smiled sarcastically and rolled her eyes as she always would when someone pissed her off. You need to find another job before you off yourself or erupt at him.

The menu for food for thought that night read as trying to recite all the lines she had in a play she did back in primary school. The further back in time, the better. Made the details harder to remember and hence, kept her stimulated for longer as she mind numbingly swayed her hips for that pit of snakes as she did every night.

  From familiar faces to strangers, nothing was enough to make the forcing of a smile any easier. All that seemed to help was laughing at them all internally. Mostly due to how excited they'd get when she'd toy with them or smirk at them as if she wasn't paid to do so. Lonely and pathetic really does come in all shapes and sizes. But thanks for the pay check I guess.

  In between her time on stage and her hour locked up in a cage like some flightless bird, Cherry wrapped herself up in her leather coat and stood out the back of the building in a dark and very dirty alleyway. Some thin cigarette between her fingers as she bathed in the ambiance and street lights. Peace only ever came in small, underwhelming fragments.

  Motivating herself with the promise of an early finish, she headed on back inside and pleased for another painstakingly long hour. She wished she could block out the hoots and whistles from the men admiring her, sometimes even wished they'd just fuck off and stop throwing money at her all together but complaining didn't make it go away.

  After having her ankles grabbed several times and having misogynistic jokes tossed at her like balls of trash, Cherry was over the goddamn moon the moment the clock struck two in the morning and made a direct beeline for the staff exit door to the dressing rooms when someone grabbed her wrist and spun her to face them.