Niccolo Fierri

"Damn it!" I toss the pile of bills onto my little round coffee table. If mom and dad would just let me have my inheritance, none of this would be happening. But no, they were far too selfish for that.

Knowing my parents, this was probably their way of trying to control me. They want me to come back home and beg them for money, but I won't. I refuse to be pulled back under them.

They won't give me my inheritance, because instead of becoming doctors like them and my sister Gabriella, I dropped out of my first semester of college to pursue my dreams of becoming a dancer.

My older sister was the golden child. She was the one who went to college, became a doctor, and continued the family legacy by marrying another doctor.

I tried. I really did. But I hate blood and I especially hate needles. There was just no point in making my life miserable just to please them. What would I gain from that besides depression.

When I told them I wanted to be a dancer and own my own studio they laughed in my face. They told me it wasn't a real job, and that if I wanted my inheritance then I was going to have to do what they wanted, which will never happen. So they can keep that shitty money all they want, because I won't be asking them for money ever.

I'm twenty-six years old now and have yet to achieve my dreams. but I know it's just around the corner. And when I do reach my goal, it will be my turn to laugh in their face.

Standing up, I begin pacing back and forth. I run my hands through my auburn curls, releasing a frustrated sigh. Three days is all I have to come up with the rent for this month. Three! And I got fired last week for telling a man to shove a hot dog up his ass.

It wasn't my fault he wanted a gluten free tofu dog at a movie theater, and got upset because we didn't have one. I feel as though I had every right to say what I said after he so rudely threw his popcorn bucket at me.

I haven't told my parents, and probably never will. I've been working my ass off trying to prove to them that I didn't need their little money to get by. I could become successful all on my own.

There's a knock at my door, pulling me away from my thoughts. I knew who it was right away. Jumping with joy, I rush over to open the door. "Gabby!" I sling my arms around my sister, pulling her into a tight embrace. She just got back from her honeymoon and promised me she would stop by.

She knows what mom and dad are doing to me as she herself experienced it. She didn't want to become a doctor either, but they bullied her into doing what they wanted. They insulted her and said she wouldn't amount to anything if she didn't do what they said.

That's why she's always telling me she regrets not standing up for herself. That she regrets not following her own dreams, and instead, allowing herself to be manipulated and controlled by our parents.

"Hey hermana(sis)!" She hugs be back tightly, before closing the door behind her and pulling me to the couch. She notices the bills right away. "Autumn," she says in that motherly tone of hers.

She picks up the stacks of bills and flips through them. I roll my eyes when she stops on the envelope with "eviction notice" stamped in bold red letters.

Gabby knows I won't ask her for money either. It just isn't me. Being the daughter of Doctor's Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs has taught me that I can't rely on anyone else for anything, especially with my problems.

I learned how to depend on myself at a young age, so you won't see me begging anyone no matter how difficult things get. "What are you going to do?" She asks, concern filled in her dark brown eyes.

"I don't know," I say with a sigh, sitting down on the armrest of my dark gray suede couch. "Continue pulling my hair out until I'm on the street I guess." I chuckle, but stop when Gabby doesn't join in.

"Autumn that's not funny. You know you can live with me and Zayne until you get back on your feet."

That's when I really start to laugh. Throwing my head back, I burst into a fit of laughter as if I just heard the best joke of my life. Living with my sister and her husband was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.

I shake my head and stand back up. "I'd rather become a stripper," I say jokingly. Gabby's glaring at me, not finding anything I'm saying remotely amusing.

She never knows when to take a joke. None of my family do. Sometimes I wonder if I'm adopted. Their lack of humor is disgusting.

I head back over to the front door, opening it with an eye roll. Gabby makes her way towards me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You're coming to dinner with mom and dad still, right?"

"Do I really have a choice?" Gabby gives me a small smile. That means no. Hugging me once

more, she gets in her car. I watch as she rolls down the window and waves goodbye.

I respond with a wave as she pulls off down the road. Once she's no longer in sight, I close and lock my door. At first I was just joking about becoming a stripper, but it just might have been the best damn idea I've ever had.

It was insane, but it might work. It's a great way to make quick cash. And I was desperate. Sitting at the kitchen counter, I flip open my laptop and type in "strip clubs near me."

As soon as I click enter, three different locations pop up. I immediately eliminate the one thirty minutes away and look at the other two. Scrolling through reviews and pictures, I end up choosing a nightclub called Fallen.

I click on the link to the website and skim over the information. It's a nightclub owned by four brothers known as the Fierri's.

The name sounds strangely familiar, but I'm not sure where I heard it from. I don't even bother reading the rest, because "All money earned is yours to keep" is printed in bold black letters.

They have all kinds of workers from DJs and waiters to bartenders and strippers. What's more amazing is that even though they get paid, the tips they make is theirs to keep. This family must be rich as hell to agree to something that crazy.

Pulling my phone out from my back pocket, I hurriedly dial the number from the screen. This is perfect. Not only will I be making enough money to pay rent this weekend and the next, but I get to do what I love. Pressing the phone to my ear, I wait as it rings.

Someone picks up on the third ring. It's a woman's voice. "Hello! Residence of the Fierri Nightclub. What can I do for you?"

The woman's voice is soothing, which brings me at ease for even going this far in this crazy ass idea. If my sister knew I was doing this she would kill me. That is if my parents don't get to me first.

"Hello. My name is Autumn Jacobs and I was wondering if you're still hiring?"

"Let me check." The sound of her typing away at her keyboard fills my ears. I start to contemplate whether I should hang up or not.

My heart is racing as she finally stops typing and replies, "The only position currently available are for the Fallen Angel dancers."

This has got to be fate.

"Yes, that's fine."

"Great! Will tomorrow night at 8 o'clock work for you?"

My eyes widen with shock. Did I just get hired on the spot? I nod. Realizing she can't actually see me, I respond. "That works for me." We say our goodbyes and the woman hangs up.

I'm panting uncontrollably as I set my phone down on the counter. I've done some crazy ass things in my lifetime, but this was by far the craziest thing I have ever done.

What the hell did I just get myself into?

****

I suck in a deep breath and ring the door bell. I'm clutching a cheap bottle of red wine I picked up at a gas station on my way over here. I even slapped a little red bow on it to make it look more presentable.

Mom is the one to open the door. She stops smiling, her painted red lips curving down into a frown. I roll my eyes, shove the bottle of wine into her hands, and brush past her. I can feel

her eyes staring at me with a gasp of disbelief.

I know her look of shock has nothing to do with how rude I just was, but the very very short dress I'm wearing. It's a skin tight body-con two piece with thin straps and minimal cover.

The lace corset dress clings to my curves as I'm practically naked under this dress. Had it not been for the matching bra and panties set, I would have flashed my family.

I join dad, Gabby and her husband at the table with a smile. Gabby and dad have the same shocked look on their face as mom does. Zayne doesn't doesn't look my way. And I admit it makes me smile. "So what's for dinner?" I say, clasping my hands together.

Mom finally sits down at the table, still eyeing as she would say, "inappropriate for a lady" dress. I want her to say something about it. I dare her to.

Because as soon as she does, that will be my excuse to leave this waste of a dinner. They're always trying to portray this loving, happy family when it was anything but that.

Being apart of this family is hell. Mom and dad act like dad isn't still pretending to go on his business trips so he can go fuck his secretary.

Mom knows he's cheating and yet she stays because if they divorce, then she stands to lose this lavish lifestyle.

Whatever would she do without brunch on Sundays with her boring rich friends? And don't even get me started on dad.

He can't live without golfing with his cheating ass friends. Both of them are toxic as hell. They fight, argue, throw glass everywhere, then make up by having old people sex.

Their toxic lifestyle is all I've ever known. I don't know what a healthy relationship looks like because my parents never had that.

It's not like I can look at the newlyweds to paint a picture of a happy, loving family. Maybe it's why I'm attracted to toxic men. The more toxic the better.

Mom's chef, who I secretly think she's fucking, brings out a tray of steak, broccoli, and loaded potatoes. I think the only good thing out of family dinner is the food.

I got to give it to the chef. The man can cook. I see why Mom enjoys his company so much. You can get the best of both worlds. Chocolate covered strawberries while being railed from behind. What a dream!

The Chef sets the tray of food down in the center of the table, sharing a glance with Mom before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Go Mom!

After making myself a plate, I grab my fork and dig in. Everything instantly melts in my mouth. If I ever find "the one," he has to know how to cook. The only way to my heart is through my stomach. Do this, and I'm yours forever.

Shoving a forkful of broccoli into my mouth, I decide to initiate the conversation. The awkward silence and tension is so thick, you can practically see it in the air.

"How was your Florida business trip, dad?"

Mom glares at me. She knew exactly what I was trying to do. There was no denying that I enjoy stirring the pot just a bit. It makes things interesting.

Mom turns her attention to dad, waiting for his response. Dad almost chokes on a piece of steak. He starts coughing, his face turning tomato red as he pours himself a glass of wine and

takes a sip. He sets the glass down, sucking in a deep breath before exhaling.

"It was fine."

Gabby is looking at me as if to say, "don't do it." Bringing my fork up to my lips, I bite down on a piece of steak and swallow.

"Interesting."

Gabby's still pleading with her eyes. This family was already messed up anyway. I don't see what was wrong in adding a little fuel to the fire.

"How about you honey?" Mom asks, looking at me. "Anything interesting going on?"

I reach across the table and grab the bottle of wine. Tossing my head back, I chug down the rest of the wine and slam the bottle down on the table. "I'm glad you asked Mom," I say sarcastically with a cheeky smile.

"Let's see." I hold up five fingers and count down. "One: I'm broke because my parents are assholes. Two: I recently got fired. Three: I'm getting evicted because I can't pay my bills. Four: my parents are still selfish assholes." I pretend like I'm thinking then say with a wide smile, "Oh and how could I forget... I'm going to be a stripper."

I was going to wait to tell them, but decided what better time than at family dinner. The look on their faces is priceless. So I take out my phone and snap a picture. Mom starts nagging like usual. "You ungrateful little bitch!"

Well damn.

What happened to honey?

"Little? Oh, so what does that make you? A big bitch?" I stand to my feet.

"We have done everything for you!" Mom whines, tears of anger streaming down her face. What have they done for me? What have they done except flaunt their money in my face, while I, their daughter, faces being homeless? What have they done except ignore me? I simply laugh in her face the same way she had when I told her my dreams.

She didn't deserve my sympathy, nor did Dad. For my entire childhood they have neglected and insulted me. In the eighteen years I have lived here, they have never once said that they even loved me.

In fact, not one nice thing has ever come out of their mouth. Don't think I forgot all the missed soccer games, graduation ceremonies, and excuses as to why I can't have friends over.

I turn to leave, but dad grabs my arm, holding me back. "Sit. Down. Autumn," he says firmly.

I scoff. He's never once tried being an actual father to me. This whole family is a lie. "No. I'm not going to sit here and continue with this bullshit facade."

I jerk my hand away, flipping my parents off. I don't even look at my sister and her husband. Walking out of the dining room, I make sure to slam the door obnoxiously loud on my way out the door.

Hopping into my baby pink BMW, I slam on the gas pedal and drive off. I knew coming to this dinner would be a waste of time. This family is a waste of time and a joke.

They made my life miserable. A living hell. And because I'm such an "ungrateful little bitch" they might as well meet Karma. I mean Karma's a bitch, right?