Love Is An Experiment

I walked down the Miami streets, the air warm and humid, the sounds of the city enveloping me. My heels clicked on the pavement, and I felt my heart beating faster. I try to stay focused, to remember why I'm here. But it is difficult not to be drawn in by the city's energy and the seemingly endless possibilities it offers. I took another deep breath and forced myself to concentrate.

I see various people walking by. There are tourists dressed in Hawaiian shirts, families pushing strollers, and teenagers laughing and texting. People are begging for money and selling goods on the street, a man in a suit is strolling by and talking on his phone. I see a homeless person, filthy and dishevelled, pushing a shopping cart loaded with belongings. ugh.

The city of Miami...

I opened the doors to the Sultry Siren where I work.

As I walk in, the bouncer nods and I head straight for the dressing room. The room is a mess, with dancers frantically changing and applying makeup. I changed into my stage outfit, a slinky black bodysuit with knee-high boots and a faux fur coat. I double-checked my makeup to ensure that my eyeliner was sharp and my lipstick was the proper shade of crimson and took a deep breath to calm my nerves before going on stage.

"Hey Mama, you are pretty late, you don't wanna get on the bad side of Siren," Layla said. Layla is one of the girls I work with, and also my best friend- a stunning girl with rich melanin skin, luscious brown hair, and deep dark brown eyes that sparkle with a hint of mischief, thanks to a tiny dimple that adds to her charm.

My father passed away when I was in high school. He had been sick for a long time, and his death was expected. But it was still devastating, and I felt lost. My mother, whom I hate and resent, decided to leave town and start a new life. I was left to take care of my younger sister, Sarah. I dropped out of school to get a job and provide for us.

No matter how hard I worked, I couldn't make ends meet. But then Layla introduced me to this opportunity, and it's been a game-changer. I'm so grateful to her because this job has literally saved me and Sarah's life. We started as neighbours, then became friends through some tough times, and now... well, I don't know where I'd be without her.

"I had to check something before coming. "I need to be on stage right now before you know who comes," I said.

"Ok, mama."

We air-kissed.

As I walked out of the dressing room, I could feel my heart racing in my chest. But as soon as I stepped on stage, something changed. My nerves vanish as a wave of serenity sweeps over me. I started moving to the music, my body flowing with the beat. The audience is mesmerized, their eyes fixed on me. I felt powerful and in control of the room. I took a deep breath and gave myself over to the dance, letting my worries and doubts fall away. I am in the moment, and nothing else matters.

I move around the stage, my movements fluid and sensual. I could feel the eyes of the crowd on me, and I revel in the attention.

I began to move in time with the music, letting my body follow the rhythm. This is what I live for - the attention, the admiration, the feeling of being worshipped. I know that I'm desired, and I drink it in like a drug. As I move around the stage, I see the faces of the men in the crowd, their eyes following my every move. I'm a siren, luring them in with my sensual movements and the promise of something more. I'm untouchable, yet so close.

It's past midnight, I look at myself in the mirror, still wearing my stage makeup. But I felt like I was looking at a different person. I'm not Samantha, the woman who lives in a small apartment and works as a dancer to make ends meet. I'm Samantha, the woman who captivates an audience with her moves. I felt a mix of pride and anxiety as I took off my makeup and changed into my regular clothes.

Layla entered the dressing room, a smile on her face. "Wow, Sam, you killed it tonight!" she says, looking at the wad of cash in my hand.

"That's the most I've ever seen you make in one night!" I smile back at her, grateful for her praise. "Thanks, Layla," I said.

"It was a good night, Samantha" She tapped my shoulder and I smiled.

I counted the bills one more time, feeling a sense of satisfaction, This is all for rent. I sighed.

I entered my tiny apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible. Sarah is asleep on the couch, her long dark hair spilling over the arm of the couch. I covered her with a blanket, careful not to wake her. I noticed that her schoolbooks were spread out on the table, and I saw a stack of overdue bills next to them. I put the cash I've earned tonight on the table, along with a note telling Sarah to use it for whatever she needs. I will make another money for rent. I kissed her gently on the forehead, whispering "Good night, Sarah," before heading to my bedroom.

My phone rang, jerking me out of sleep. I reached for it and squinted at the screen. It is ten a.m., and I am not a morning person. "Hello?" I mumbled, not checking to see who was calling.

"It is Siren."

I sat up straight, wiping my eyes with my hand. Why is Siren calling me?

"Good morning."

I greeted.

"Meet me at the address I sent to you in 3 hours."

She hung up immediately.

My phone vibrated. The address... For her to contact me directly, seems important.

Siren is the headliner of the strip club, the most popular dancer, who's the boss of the other dancers. When there's a problem at the club, the other dancers go to her for help. Siren is referred to by that nickname; her legal name is unknown.

Siren's mansion is opulent, with expensive furnishings and exquisite art. She is wealthy and accustomed to a life of luxury. As I stepped inside, I felt out of place, as if I didn't belong there. Siren led me to the living room, where she motioned for me to sit. I sat, trying to look at ease, but I felt tense and uncomfortable. She sat across from me, her expression unreadable. My heart is pounding in my chest. What will she say?

"I guess this is our first time meeting alone, Samantha."

"Yes."

"I will go straight to the point, you should know I don't like beating around the bush."

You are.

"One of our customers' eyes has been on you for a while, you piqued his interest and he wants to make a deal with you, Mind my manners, would like to drink anything? Water? Alcohol? Wine? Juice?"

"I'm good, what deal?"

It was strange to meet her in her home, now a deal? Rumours circulate that she deals with old rich men and links them up with girls. They use them and of course, pay them REAL MONEY. If that's what she called me for, hell no! I needed money doesn't mean I'm shameless.

"Don't be in a rush Samantha, you will lose this offer. He wants to marry you, like a contract marriage, there will be rules and you will have to quit coming to Sultry Siren. I'm sure this is not your first time hearing such."

Well no.

"Why?..."

"Twenty-six, I believe you are a grown woman. Save those questions for later, he doesn't like to wait, if you hesitate, this opportunity will go to another girl and you might regret it."

She rested her back on the couch.

Like I knew she wanted to link me up. I mean, you just told me something so absurd right now but marriage? From the rumours I heard, I've never heard about contract marriage with the girls.

"I don't..." I trailed off, unsure how to decline her offer.

"Think it through, Sam. This might never come your way again. Also, he's not old, I'm aware of the rumours circulating - I can assure you he's not old, he's between 30/31. You have 5 minutes to decide."

"Thirty years old?" I asked, surprised.

She nodded. "If you accept this offer, you'll walk out that door with $700."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "Without having to strip?" It would take me three nights of hard work to earn that much, and now I could just walk out the door with it without lifting a finger?

Siren smiled. "That's right. And there are many more bonuses to come if you accept. All you need to do is be a fake bride."

I thought for a moment, weighing my options. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Yes, I accept."