AVA'S P.O.V
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Something thrummed beneath my hand.
I recognised the familiar beat from our music mixer infiltrating from below, the rhythm pulsing through the wall to the top of my fingers.
Without a second thought, I followed the sound to the ground floor.
Clark and Olly, the setup crew, were fixing neon lights behind curtains and bringing in tables for a party that was probably going to start in an hour.
I smirked at the irony of the situation.
Ignorance really is bliss.
Patting my cheeks dry, I marched to the bar and twirled in front of the glowing tabletop as Mark, the bartender, dried up the shot glasses.
He was deaf but his attentiveness and skill of reading lips were so good only a few of us were aware of his disability.
"A bottle of Hennessey." I winked. My saccharine smile felt as dead as my future.
He shot me a weird look from under the fringe of his shaggy brown curls, aware that I hated alcohol, but wordlessly passed the large bottle over.
No questions asked.
Just the way I liked it.
Twisting the cork off the lid, I tossed my gnawing misery over my shoulder and drowned myself in the burning liquid till the shape of one person blurred into three.
Needless to say, I'd woken up the following day with a pounding headache that lasted till streaks of yellow, red, and orange-coloured the sky.
Later, when Harry tried to bring me to a customer and noticed the alcohol on my breath, he had me flogged for it.
It was then that the little hope I'd had was stamped out.
I was going to die here.
No one was coming for me but even if they did, I'd rather die here.
I didn't have a reason to live anymore.
What else did I have? My life had fallen apart.
Every second, my heart ached, thinking of my parents. Mama was still alive. Yeah, I still had her. But what if she didn't remember me anymore? Did she remember what I looked like? Was her disease so mind-crippling that she'd forgotten of me?
I'd wake up each day, my pillow soaked and my head buzzing with questions and hypothetical scenarios.
Leslie followed me everywhere and kept drugs far away from my wandering hands.
She couldn't take away my bottles of Hennessey and gin, though. I can't say she didn't try.
Andia was talking less and eating lesser.
I didn't know what to tell her because I hadn't been able to tell myself anything. I didn't want to face that light of hope, whatever it was. I just wanted to punish myself for…something I couldn't describe.
I'd turned into a hollow shell and took every opportunity I had to self-destruct. This was my life now after all, wasn't it? I had bugged my parents for a solo trip and looked at where it got me.
Everything had gone downhill after we'd been shipped here so obviously I was going to die here as well.
For days, I'd lay on the floor at night, refusing to let myself sleep, and stare at the ceiling, trying to envision the beauty of the stars that mama had tried so hard to show me.
Then months later, when I'd almost drunk myself in every alcohol bottle to numb the pain, I found it.
My reason to keep living.
It had been there all along, hiding in plain sight, waiting for me to grab it.
So, I emptied out my secret stash, forced myself to sleep, and ate proper meals.
I'd started to become so immersed in the business that I managed to convince the section heads and some of the girls that I was happy to actually be here.
And that was the plan.
That was the way things should be.
It also added mystery and lure to my new name.
Queen.
I had long stopped mentioning my real name and adopted the one Harry gave me.
It happened a couple of days after I'd sobered up from the drinking and set my plans.
I was on my last punishment for the month with Harry. He was to sleep with me every night for a month, but he had the option to do whatever he wanted.
Fortunately, he'd only called me twice the entire month, excluding the last day.
When he'd heaved off me that final night, air rushing back to my lungs and my body in fiery discomfort, I didn't make a single sound.
So he laughed, sticking a cigarette between his thin lips and holding it over a candle to light it. He'd faced the floor-to-ceiling window and tossed a shirt over his shoulder at me.
I'd kicked it away with a frown and glared at his naked back.
Crossing his arms, he'd walked to the window, silently staring into the rainy night with a joint between his fingers.
Smoke curled around his fingers, "Don't be cold," then snubbing the flame out, he added, "chin up, Queen, no matter how hard you play, you're here to stay."
The name felt like a dirty reminder of what I didn't want to be but before I'd realised, it stuck.
No one was sure of what my real name was except Leslie, Skitty, and Andia. New people were brought in every year or six months.
Most of my friends who'd been on the bus had either been sent off to serve someone, hadn't made it through the years, or were sent off to the Tally.
Five of them had taken their own lives in the eleventh month. We'd held a small ceremony for them under the sanctuary of the night with fake flowers and Skitty's speech but we'd silently pledged never to speak of it ever again.
A creak pulled me back to the present and I looked up to see Harry holding onto door 15.
Summoning the rest of my nonexistent dignity, I confidently sauntered past him into the bright room.
Forcing my lips into a smirk, I met the gaze of the greying man rising to his feet. He'd tossed aside his suit and expensive cufflinks, and his white shirt rolled to his forearms.
Something sparkled in his color. A flag. He was a member of parliament.
My jaw clenched and I struggled to keep my smile in place. This creep was old enough to be my grandfather.
Would Harry kill me if I bit his ear off?
Taking a deep breath, I patiently waited patiently as his eyes greedily roved over my black, lacy lingerie and then struck a pose.
He started at the sudden action, the loose skin around his face quaking.
Uh-oh.
Coronary, here he comes.
The door slammed shut behind me as I lazily assessed the trembling man.
Beer gut, quivering triple chin, sausage fingers, and shaky legs.
I couldn't wait to get back to my romance book upstairs.
"Well", I shyly cocked my head to the side, the words as tasty as poison in my mouth, "shall we? We can only do so much in an hour."