*~*~*~*~*Angelia*~*~*~*~* Chapter Two -- Fictional Getdown

[ Show ]

Support VoyForums

[ Shrink ]

VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, [2], 3, 4 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 16:15:56 11/20/02 Wed
Author: Tiffany
Subject: *~*~*~*~*Angelia*~*~*~*~* Chapter Two

Okay....it's not a terribly exciting chapter...but...you know how it goes.

Applying a heavy amount of eyeliner Samantha slowly transformed herself into Angelia. Like most dancers, she had a stage name. When she was Angelia, she could do no wrong. There were no worries of bills, a future, or family members potentially running into her. As Angelia she had no worries. Often when she was on stage she would remember the night she ran away from the small town of Lancaster, New Hampshire.

After a tedious fight with her father over college choices, she'd gone to her room crying hysterically. She could feel the box of her family's name closing in on her. She was to go to the Harvard school of Law and become a lawyer where she would move back to Lancaster and carry on the family tradition of excellence, marry a doctor, and have lots of mindless children who would do the same thing until the end of time.

She closed the door to her room and cranked up her Richard Marx CD. Samantha would bury herself in the silky rasp of his voice. When she listened to Richard, nothing else mattered. Not her life, her future, her family, her suppressed hopes or dreams. Nothing. When at long last her favorite song, Angelia filtered out of the speakers of her small radio, her mission became quite clear. She was going to leave.

Angelia!
Where you running to now?
Oh Angelia!
Where you running to now, where you running to now?

And with that train of thought, her tears dried. Samantha got out her life savings. Money she'd earned babysitting different children of her parents' rich friends. She'd collected over three thousand dollars in eight years. In her desk drawer she found all of her college acceptance letters. From Harvard to Dartmouth College, they'd all accepted her. If she were to leave, she wouldn't be able to afford Harvard or any of the Ivy League schools she wanted to go to. But an acceptance letter from the University of Central Florida had been her saving grace. They were offering her a full scholarship for all four years including room and board. All she had to do was pay for her books, food, and transportation.

That very night, while her parents were having tea at their country club, she packed two suitcases full of clothes and packed them in her Jetta. When she left the premises, she drove past her school, her friends' house, and finally the country club. She looked at it long and hard. Her parents spent so much time and energy worrying about being the perfect black family that she didn't even know who they were. Social engagements became more important that Samantha and the recognition from certain cases became more important than there love of litigation and being in the courtroom. Where's the honor in that? Looking at it one last time, Samantha sighed forlornly before hopping on the highway and never looking back.

That was three years ago. Now, she was a self-sufficient woman. Luckily, her parents never found her. National law prohibits any college from giving out personal information to students over eighteen. Even if the inquirer claimed to be family. Sometimes, late at night when Samantha is alone in her loft staring at the only picture she took of her family, she thinks she misses them. But when she remembers how they tried to stifle her dreams, contempt rises into her blood like hot fury and burns. No family no matter how they claimed they loved would force you to be something that you could never become. The only person she considered to be her family now, was Nichole whom she met at UCF.

She and Nichole had been roommates all four years. Samantha respected Nichole's determination to become a major theatre actress, just as Nichole respected Samantha's determination to be a renowned photographer. Together, they made an unlikely pair. A southern belle from a tiny town in Tennessee and a black ex-socialite from a tiny town in New Hampshire. Their only likeness' were their determination to be something that nobody believed they could become. While Memphis Theatre was a far cry from Broadway, she was slowly reaching her dream. Samantha was also slowly reaching hers. Even if Samantha only ended up taking pictures at Wal-Mart for the rest of her life, she'd be making a living doing exactly what she wanted to do.

"Samantha, I don't know what is up with you girl" Heidi said sitting down next to Samantha who was at her vanity staring into the light bulb surrounded mirror "But you better snap out of it"

"Oh shit, am I up?"

"No. But, I do remember Sweetness asking you to come and see him when you clocked in today. You've been here almost an hour and you haven't left this chair since you changed" Samantha shook off her memories and sighed

"I'm sorry Heidi. I'm just�so out of it"

Heidi looked at her friend with a small trace of worry on her older face. People like Samantha shouldn't dance, she thought. They couldn't cope with it. Heidi knew she'd be dancing as long as her body permitted, but Samantha was undoubtedly destined for greater things. Not dancing in some tasteless strip club where men have no respect for you.

When Heidi first saw Samantha a year ago, she knew immediately that this girl was on a mission. Although expertly masked with enthusiasm and shyness, Heidi knew beneath the hazel orbs of innocence lay shame. There was no secret how close 'dancing' was to actual prostitution. Heidi was fine with that but it was obvious that Samantha was not. She felt responsible for the younger girl and took her under her wing making sure that Sweetness and all his manipulation stayed far away from Samantha as possible.

"Look, I know that it has been a long couple of months with concert season and all but you really have to stay focused sweetie. We have a job to do and�"

"And what Heidi?" Samantha said, eyes glowing "I know how much I need this job. I know how much more I'd be suffering if I didn't have it. I know how easy it would be for Sweetness to fire me. I know how much experience I lack. But God damn it, don't make me worry about the only thing that isn't a required anxiety. I go up there, shake my ass in a g-string, and I get paid. That's my job. I do it well. I have enough to worry about"

Heidi just stared at Samantha for a few seconds before taking a deep breath to control her anger. She released her long bleached blond hair out of its clip and let it cascade shortly below her shoulder. As she sadly and cynically looked at Samantha, her eyes showed the thirty-five years that she'd spent on the planet. It was then that Heidi knew that it was time for Samantha to find another line of work. It was starting to get to her.

"Okay Samantha, I'm going to be honest with you. I know that you have stress in your life. But you're not the only one. I have a kid I'm taking care of at home. I'm sending him to Catholic school. Do you have any idea how much that costs?" Samantha faced immediately softened

"No Heidi but�"

"I'm not saying this to tell you that I have it worse than you. I'm just saying that you should be grateful that you have the opportunity to go to college. I don't have that opportunity. I've never had that opportunity. Life is hard. C'est la vie. Life is a bitch and then you die. Get over it Samantha. I'm over it. Look around you. There are over fifty girls here that are going through hardships. You're not the only one. You have to make the best with what is given to you. You have a brain and rhythm that comes naturally. All I have in this world is this body," Heidi said clutching her sequenced covered breasts "And these tits. That's all I have. I know that and that's why I dance. You won't be doing this forever. I will. You don't have it that badly. And believe me, when you become a famous photographer, your life as an ex-stripper will sell millions in an autobiography. You just have to get through it" Without speaking another word Heidi embraced Samantha in a tight hug "You're the only girl I've ever really befriended here. You're the only girl that has ever come here as a means to an end. You're the only one with any potential. Be grateful that you have potential"

When Heidi pulled away to look Samantha in the eyes, the younger girl was in tears. The heavy eyeliner that she'd spent so long applying was starting to fade and run down her cheeks. Samantha was overwhelmed with relief and at the same time sadness. Sad because she felt at last someone justified her reason to be where she was and sad that for Heidi, Intimate Performances was as good as it was going to get. In that moment�Samantha saw where Heidi was hiding her thirty-five year old wrinkles. And for the first time, she felt that she had someone to watch over her. Someone who didn't love her conditionally. Someone who knew also what it was like to yearn for something better.

Heidi picked up a tissue silently and began to wipe the running mascara from Samantha's eyes. And as she wiped she could almost read her thoughts. They were much like her own when she'd started having doubts about her life. Would she make it? Would she end up struggling the rest of her life? What was in the cards for her? Why does life have to be so hard? Heidi did not have the knowledge nor experience to explain to Samantha that life is only sweet when it's hard. It was something that the younger girl would have to figure out for herself.

"Ain't that fuckin' sweet. Mommy and daughter playin' fuckin' dress up" a cigarette abused voice rasped at Heidi and Samantha

"Hello Sweetness" Samantha said smiling up at him "Helluva night isn't it? I heard the blues convention is in town. Business should be booming"

"Cut the shit Angelia. You owe me a half an hour. I want those thirty minutes now"

"Pull up a chair. Take a load off"

"Don't mind if I do"

Sweetness was a man a few words, but the words he did speak, the words were cynical, crudely honest, articulately slurred, and carried the scent of Marlboro's and Jack Daniel's: The Tennessean iced tea. It had been idea to hire Samantha naturally, as the owner. When he first saw her, he wasn't so sure. She had a great body�firm breasts, a nice ass, round hips and great honey colored skin, but she looked entirely too innocent. The guys would go wild for her�but some might go a little too wild. He didn't want to ever see one of his girls hurt�so as a safety precaution, required that they take on a stage name and wear a wig. Although Sweetness could be a described as quite a rogue, he was very protective of his girls. He hired the best security money could buy and made sure that each girl was escorted home. The last thing he ever wanted to wake up to was a call from the Metro Police that one of his girls has been ax murdered.

"What did you need, Sweetness?" Samantha asked casually snapping on her garters "Have I done something wrong?"

"Nah. Nothing you could control anyway. I'll be frank" he lit a cigarette "You look like shit Samantha. You've got bags underneath your eyes, you've been choosing a lot of slow songs, which means you aren't exerting yourself as much, AND your periods between dances are longer. What's going on?" Samantha stuttered a little "Don't give me a bullshit answer girl. Have a little more respect for me than that"

"I'm tired Sweetness" she said honestly "I'm so exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well, all of my work is suffering. I don't know. I just�I need a break"

"Temporary or permanent?"

"Temporary, most definitely" Sweetness sat back in his chair once more and shifted the cigarette from one end of his mouth to the other "I need to pay for college"

"How about this toots. I'll give you a month and a half off with pay in advance BUT you are going to have to pay me back for that big of a loan. When you get back I'll need�three Saturday nights and a Sunday. How does that sound?"

"Sweetness" Samantha said looking at him with shocked and wide eyes "You'd do that for me?"

"What the fuck can I say? You're a dependable broad. Do we or don't we have a deal?"

"We definitely have a deal" Samantha said shaking her boss' outstretched hand "I could hug you"

"Please don't. I have an image of toughness to uphold. If anyone sees me touch you�that'll compromise my fa�ade"

* * * * *

Samantha eyed the big man in the corner. He'd been starring at her since she'd finished her set on stage. By the way he was dressed, he didn't have enough money for the Champagne room but definitely for a private dance. She stretched her arms above her head suggestively before making her way over to where the big guy was sitting. As she walked the ten feet, she felt random guys grabbing her hands. Instead of showing her utter annoyance, she would look at each other them telling them that she'd get with them later�knowing fully well that she didn't care to cater to guys that didn't know how to treat women.

"Hello big man. My name is Angelia. What's your name?" Samantha said wrapping her arms around his neck

"What? Have you forgotten me already?" the man said with a hint of amusement in his deep voice "I'm shocked and almost appalled, Samantha."

Samantha let the voice linger hauntingly in her brain for a minute. She made herself comfortable on his knee while she placed the name. Turning her face to him and letting her eyes adjust to the extra darkness of where he was sitting, it finally clicked in her head who had summoned her.

"Tre?! You evil bastard, what the fuck are you doing here?" Samantha said throwing her arms around his neck again and hugging him tightly

"I came by to see you. I knew that you were out of school now, so I figured you'd be working when I came into town"

"Came into town? What kind of work are you doing now?"

"Guarding celebrities" he said with a shrug "I'm with a nice group of boys now. Their the sweet guys but rambunctious as all fuck"

"How are they paying you?"

"I do alright. I could always use more�but then again I am greedy"

"Yes you are" An equally deep voice said booming on the side of him "Lonnie Goodson miss. I work with Tre"

"Nice to meet you Lonnie Goodson," Samantha looked towards the backstage area and saw Sweetness signaling her to get back to work "Well fella's. As much as I'd like to stay here and chit chat, neither I nor Sweetness are getting rich from this little conversation�so, unless one of you wants a dance, I gotta go."

"Jesus�do you have to be so graphic? You know I can't let you dance for me. It'd be too weird."

"Good lookin' out Tre," Samantha said leaning down to kiss his cheek "You have my number. Call me. Maybe we could get together sometime"

"I'd like that Sam."

As Samantha walked away from Lonnie and Tre, she couldn't help but recollect all the good times she and Tre had had together. He was her handler from the day she arrived until the day he walked out after an altercation with the manager at the time, over a hand of poker. He'd gotten her out of many scrapes whether they were her fault or not. When the going got tough, Samantha got Tre.

* * * * *

"Has the jury reached its verdict?" Nichole asked gravely

"Yes you're honor, we have"

"What say you about the matter of Samantha Mitchell coming to Millington, Tennessee for the summer?"

She left Nichole hanging in suspense for a few seconds while surveying different blouses she had on a rack of clothes sitting in front of her bay window that overlooked the meager and bleak skyline of Nashville. She picked up a gray blouse and paired it with a pair of blue boot-cut jeans. Samantha looked at herself in the mirror holding the jeans and shirt up to her body before shaking her head and turning back to the rack.

"Come now Ms. Defendant. What say you about the matter of Samantha Mitchell coming to Millington?"

"Yea" Samantha said hanging up her blouse "The defense rests"

"Thank God! I was really hoping to have some company this summer"

"Well, I'm coming down. Get the spare room and the kitchen ready," Samantha said attempting a western Tennessee accent

"Mama gon' cook you a right good dinner fer sho."

"Samantha Beverly Mitchell, never do that again. That was positively horrifying. Accents don't become you."

"You're right about that" Samantha looked at her walk in closet that was actually a makeshift darkroom "Do you have a darkroom in your house?"

"A dark what? You mean that cell you develop your pictures in? Uh�I have a basement"

"I'm sure that'll work. But you can't come down there when I'm developing"

"Of course not" Nichole coughed a little into the phone
"When are you coming down?"

"Uh�well�Sweetness is giving me a bonus next week. I made enough money to pay my bills this week�and I'm out of school. So I'd say�next week Sunday. Friday and Saturday nights are my best nights" Samantha picked up a cuffed white blouse and heather gray sweater combination

"Okay. I'll get the spare room ready. And I'll try to hook up the whole darkroom thing in the basement. What else will you need?"

"I don't think I'll need much. Just make sure that there is plenty of food. I haven't had a decent meal in so long it's not even funny" She nodded at the outfit and threw it on the chair next to her bed. Samantha headed to the bathroom in search of shoes.

"You better not come here looking like Whitney Houston. Otherwise, I'm stuffing your face with chocolate"

"Are you kidding? If I get one trace of cottage cheese thighs, Sweetness is gonna fire me" Nichole laughed and yawned a little "Well, I guess that's my signal to shut up now. I'll let you go so I can get ready to go"

"Where are you going?"

"Out to lunch with an old friend. I saw him at the club last night and we decided to go out and catch up" Samantha said picking up a pair of black mid-calf riding boots.

"Oh that's cool. Have a great time girl. I'm gonna go back to sleep. It's too early for me to be chipper"

"It's past noon"

"On a Saturday. Are you kidding me? Only God, the devil, and the president should be up at the same time"

"Aren't the devil and George Bush the same person?" she asked turning on the shower

"Oh you are a bitch and a half. I'll talk to you later"

As soon as Nichole and Samantha hung up with each other, Samantha jumped into the shower with the intent of washing the sweat accumulated from the extremely lucrative night before. As prophesized, the club had been packed from wall to wall to wall to wall with blues musicians in search of something a little naughty. In the six hours that Samantha worked that night, she gave eight private dances, four bouts in the champagne room, and two or three stage performances. All done to fast songs to promote sweating, which got her more tips and propositions for private dances.

Although, Samantha admittedly hated her work, nights like last night made all of her degradation worthwhile. In only six short hours, she collected fifty-six hundred dollars. Sweetness was more than exuberant when he got his ten percent. In fact, he was so happy with Samantha that he gave her the loan he'd promised immediately and immunity to leave as soon as she wanted. So, she planned to leave tomorrow in the early morning hours when traffic was to a minimum and the heat of the Tennessee sun didn't glare at her so dangerously. Her first impulse was to leave this morning but she'd made a friendly date with Tre for lunch.

Stepping out of the bathroom a bellow of steam followed Samantha to the hallway leading to her bedroom area. As she passed the living room area, she grabbed the remote to her modest stereo and tuned the radio to one of the only stations she listened to: 100.1FM the only Progressive Rock station in Nashville. John Mayer's voice crooned 'Your Body Is A Wonderland' and Samantha felt young again. She so often felt age setting into her bones too early. A night of dancing wore itself heavily on her twenty-one year old body leaving her exhausted and sometimes dreading going to class. But what third year college student doesn't dread going to class some days?

Staring at her reflection in her bedroom mirror, Samantha dressed leisurely, swaying softly to the music. It was surprising to Samantha that she didn't hate her body. That she didn't hate every large curve, extra crevice, and nook. She thought she was fine, like most black women her age, she'd accepted her body for what it was. It was nice enough for her to make nearly six thousand dollars. The one thing that Samantha hated about herself was her standoffishness. She couldn't get herself to trust people, to open up. It took her the whole time she and Tre worked together for her to trust him. It took her a year to trust Heidi enough to tell her about her past and it took two years for Samantha to trust Nichole. Besides those three people, Samantha had no friends. Sad but true. People around school who thought they were getting to know her�where just hitting the stubborn sleet ice of her emotional glacier. No one�except people who really persisted could get to steady water with her.

* * * * * *

Walking into the much too air-conditioned space, Samantha shivered and let the cuffs of her shirt combination fall to her palms where she held them steady. She let her head crane the restaurant until she found a mass of black sitting near the window of the restaurant. Smiling at Tre's idle glances around the familiar kosher restaurant. So many times during the late night hours after work, Samantha and Tre would come to the mildly upscale eatery for a quick lox and bagels before going home. The demands that she stayed a certain weight in order to dance in a nearly nude club kept her from binging on McDonalds and other fast food places. So instead of becoming a vegetarian, she ate like any Jewish person ate. Except for before meal praying in Yiddish.

"Welcome to Noshville, can I get you a menu?" A bubbly busty blond said scurrying to meet her at the entrance

"No�I'm meeting a friend. Tre Sullivan?"

"Oh yes�he's over there" the waitress said unenthusiastically stating the obvious

"Thank you. I'd like a glass of diet Coke with Lime and some ice water before I order" Samantha said nicely before walking to her table "Thank you"

As she walked towards Tre's friendly eyes, she saw random guys turning to stare at her backside as she swayed past them. Some she smiled at and greeted with friendly hello's, those who were rude, she paid no heed to. She didn't have time for stupid people. When she sat down with Tre, he smiled brightly at her displaying two rows of magnificently straight and white teeth.

"Afternoon big man. How was your night?"

"I went home, slept in my own bed and actually liked it"

"I would too if I was on the road as much as you are. I mean, I never get to see you anymore"

"Well, work calls" he said knowingly "Besides, you're so busy, you wouldn't see me anyway"

"That's true"

"What's on the agenda for the summer?"

"Well�I'm going to Millington for a month to visit a friend" Tre's eyes got wide as saucers "What?"

"What friend do you know that lives in Millington?"

"Remember Nichole that came up last year around Spring Break?"

"Oh yeah" Tre said somewhat relieved "UCF roommate. That's right"

"Yeah. She invited me, so I'm going. Sweetness gave me a nice big loan"

"What? Sweetness gave someone a break?"

"Yup" she said fondly but then her face turned serious "I need a break. I'm tired"

"I know, Sam. You've been tired for a while. After nights like last night, I don't know how you're awake" Samantha took Tre's hand into her own

"Sheer willpower Tre"

The waitress came around and coldly took their orders. Tre seemed oblivious but Samantha was not. She mechanically ordered Matzo soup and lox and before Tre could get a word in, Samantha was already ordered his typical Gifilte fish and cholent. The waitress smiled cynically before writing down the order and walking away without an assurance that their food would be out soon.

A drawback to living in the south was the incessant nasty looks and dispositions she got from small-minded people. She also knew the farther south she went, the worse people would be to her. It made her question her choice to go to Millington. Should she put herself through a month of racial struggles? Would it be impossible for her to be invisible? Would they treat her like a servant instead of a guest? It doesn't matter, Samantha thought wryly, I've made a promise to Nichole. Samantha never broke her promises.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

Great chapter, girle! -- Z, 16:36:12 11/20/02 Wed