Chapter 10: Firecracker

I pulled up to Constantine’s club and stepped inside, immediately regretting it. My eyes scanned the room for him and there he was, getting a lap dance from a stripper— I assumed— dressed in a glittery two-piece.

“Oh, Rosana,” he chirped, smacking her butt. As I approached them I wanted to gag.

The air reeked of cheap perfume and sweat, blending with the stale stench of spilt liquor pooling on the sticky floor. The place was a wreck, and I could already feel the need to tack on an extra minute to every shower I’d take this week just for standing in this filthy, poorly lit- pit.

“Let’s go,” I snapped, grabbing Constantine by the arm.

“April!” he cheered, completely oblivious. “Come sit down! This is Ginger.” He pulled me in the seat next to him and I felt like I'd need a couple of shots after this.

“I thought her name was Rosana,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

“They all look the same after a few shots.”

I glanced at the stripper. “Nice to meet you, Ginger.” Then I turned back to him.