now i breathe flames each time i talk

shifting her weight from side to side to stay warm, kit kept people-watching until she saw a wallet fall out of somebody’s pocket. without giving it a second thought, kit took it and ran behind the person. “hi, excuse me,” she said meekly, trying again to grab their attention louder, “hi, you. excuse me, you dropped your wallet!”

          » riley   crossed   one  leg   over   the  other,   leaning   back   in   her   chair  as  the  other  person spun  around,  showing off  the  costume they  were  considering wearing.  ❝  i  swear  to  god  if  any  of  you  embarrass  me  in  front  of  my  clients  this  weekend  i’m  going  to  make  your  lives  a  living  hell,  ❞  she  had  to  admit, she’d  been  a  little  worried about  inviting  some  of  her  acquaintances  and  employees  of  the  avenue  to  the  annual  winter  ball.  ❝  and  there’s  no  way  you’d  be  allowed in  dressed  like  that.  i  preferred  the  first  one,  i  think. if  you  were  seriously  considering  this  one,  it’s  a  good  thing  you  asked  me  to  help  you.  ❞

c l o s e d   s t a r t e r  — @opcnwounds​

THE CLOCK SLOWLY TICKED ON. it seemed as though the seconds went on forever at the end of the day. magnolia only released a sigh of relief as she had met her daily hours. she had taken the next several days off to finish settling in and take a breather before welcoming new clients. she rushed home, letting down her hair, and changing into clothes more suitable for going out in. by the time she had stepped out of her apartment, the dark sky had been lit up by the neon lights. magnolia felt engulfed by the life the lights brought —  t h e  a v e n u e  was completely different now than in sunlight. the blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she entered  a n g e l ’ s. back home magnolia would have always turned away from a strip club, but she was intrigued. it wasn’t long before someone had offered to by her a drink and she happily accepted, free was free. typically she would focus on the man buying her drinks, but her gaze quickly landed on one of the performers. her breathing stopped momentarily as their eyes locked. quickly her eyes shot down. magnolia was embarrassed to have been caught staring at the other, but she couldn’t help herself from focusing in that direction again. there was something about the woman that drew her in, something she hadn’t felt in the pit of her stomach before. she had to excuse herself from the man in front of her, moving closer to the stage the dancer occupied.

pirouette, arabesque, sauté, sauté; a seamlessly flowing adagio. Except instead of dancing en pointe, Carys’ ankles were strapped into a pastel pink pair of fake and overpriced Louboutins she had found in Chinatown. Because instead of haggling, her social anxiety had taken over and she just wanted to get an Uber back to somewhere less crowded, preferably her cold and quiet studio. Granted she knew nothing about stripping as a craft, but she knew everything there was to know about dancing, and she knew that a $20 dollar pair of giant stilettos was not going to cut it if she wanted to keep herself from being permanently crippled. Dancing on the pole was easy, her body twirling and flexing, spreading and lifting like she was featherweight. The music might not have been Stravinsky, but there was always some pop, dance, disco, top 40 nonsense that had just the right rhythm for Carys to lose herself in. The skimpy outfits in the end weren’t much different to the tiny leotards and tight tights, and instead of plastering the tortured expressions of a black swan on her face, Carys just projected her beloved seductress Nikita from La Bayadère. It was what she needed for her nightly crowd to go wild: her smokey eye in stark contrast to her pale skin and the most crimson lipstick she could find. The one mother hated, it was perfect.

her stage was her safe heaven as long as she could stay away from the wandering hands and instead of slowly dying flowers after her performance, it rained money. What was there not to like? What was there not to like. What was there not to like. She told herself over an over as she lost herself in the neon lights. Carys was halfway through her dissociation when her eyes connected with another bright pair she had never seen before. Hypnotized, she kept dancing, her face always returning to this alluring patron and Carys threw in a smirk; both for her own interest and so she would not be reprimanded again for her “ice queen expression”. 

as the song ended, Carys quickly picked up the mass of dollars and ran backstage, throwing her money in her lockbox and draping a sheer and shimmery caftan dress over herself. and for the first time, instead of burrowing into a corner of the dressing room ith debussy loudly playing in her headphones, Carys walked out into the floor and towards the bar, seeking out the bright eyes from before. As she ordered a rum and diet coke, she found the blonde again and raised her glass as an invitation, silently wondering if she had lost her mind.

“I just know when a girl needs a break.” Stevie confessed with a shrug of her delicate shoulders. She pretended to ponder Spencer’s offer for a moment, bottom lip jutted out as she pulled her phone out from the waistband of her shorts and checked the time. “I still have some time left on my break, I think I can manage a drink or two. Now come on, get that cute butt in here before you freeze to death.”

“You are a very gifted woman indeed,” Spencer said, rolling her neck to stretch the aching muscles. “I really can’t thank you enough, Stevs. I don’t like drinking alone when I don’t have the strength to deal with the creeps... Plus, you’re terrific company and you just called my butt cute,” She said cutely as she batted her eyelashes, lacing her arm with the older woman’s as they walked in and towards the bar. “Where’s the best seat in the house, madame?”

          » she felt relief wash over her at the strangers response.  there’d been  instances  in  the  past  where  she  had  accidentally bumped  into  a  drunken  stranger, and  they  came  at  her  with  the  intent  to  fight.  it  was  the  sole  cause  of  her  being  so  anxious  about  her  mistake. the  stranger  looked almost  as  tired  as  she  was.  perhaps that’s  why  she’d  had  so  much  sympathy for  her,  despite being  as  clumsy as  she  was. ❝ i  mean…  if  you’re  so  sure.  but  still.  it  was  rude  of  me.  ❞she  was  almost  taken  aback  by  the  strangers kindness.  ❝  w-wait,  you’re offering  to  buy  me  a  drink  ?  but  i’m  the  one  who  knocked your  drink  over.  surely  you  let  me  replace  it.  ❞

Spencer smiled sweetly at the girl, her anxiety and wariness being incredibly relatable. In the Avenue, vibes always seemed so flammable, and sometimes tiny missteps were enough to cause uncomfortable scenes. “I mean, I won’t force you to drink, of course. I’m just saying, if you feel like you could use one, I’m heading for one. No pressure! If you wanna get them, I also will not oppose. I can get the next round.” She added cheekily, trying to put the girl at ease. “I’m Spencer, by the way.”

THE LOOSE DOOR HANDLE JIGGLING. the clear indicator of the unwanted roommate arriving home. the little time katalina had alone was everything she wanted, but it could never last long. she was unable to pinpoint the exact moment the conflict began between the two. everything spencer did irked the younger. the way she ate her food, breathed too heavily, or how she took up too much space on the couch. the rest of her drink pushed past her lips. ❝ you’re just trying to find any excuse to get me into handcuffs, huh ? ❞ the filter in her brain slowly disappearing with every sip, with every hit. ❝ if you don’t like it go to your room, ❞ the command was as if a parental figure was reprimanding their child, but this situation was quite the opposite. spencer had a solid five years on katalina, but that never hindered her attitude. she inhaled the last hit in her bowl, walking by the other to grab her rum, blowing out the smoke as their paths crossed. a couple more shots downed quickly. her body warm, vision softening. it didn’t take long for a bag of chips to land in her lap once back to the couch. ❝ are you just going to stand there like a brick wall ? i mean i know it represents your personality, but it has to get boring. ❞

Spencer scoffed in between swigs of liquor, “Me? Put you in handcuffs? Honey, no. That would make me have to get too close. I’ll just watch while the cops whisk you away. Sad day that one will be.” She pretended to wipe a tear away, the alcohol turning some of her earlier anger into amusement at trying to get a rise out of the younger girl. She chuckled dryly, “But mom, I pay full rent to be able to be wherever I fucking want.” More drinking. Sheesh, the vodka was flowing like water into Spencer’s system. But whatever it took to be able to withstand freaking Katalina. A very dramatic set of coughs escaped Spencer’s lips as Katalina walked by, and she glared at her in annoyance. The room was starting to spin a little, the older woman’s skin starting to feel the uncomfortable heat that came from vodka. “What’s it to you, sweetheart? What I do or what I don’t do?” Oops, there it was, creeping into Spencer’s voice; that insatiable urge of wanting to take more drastic measures to shut the younger girl up for good. She licked her lips and shrugged off her jacket, shoulders and cleavage exposed as she leaned over the kitchen island, closing the distance between her and Kat. “You don’t seem to have anything particularly riveting going on either. Why are your friends hanging out without you?”

katie mcgrath, bisexual, cisfemale + she/her ➸ hey look, it’s CARYS PALLAS! they’re 24 years old and originally from DUBLIN, IRELAND. now they’re in new york, working as a STRIPPER at ANGEL'S. i heard they’re pretty FRIGID, but i think they’re so DEVOTED at the same time. have they found their calling on the avenue ?

mild mentions of eating disorders, injuries and child abuse

Stevie had seen her fair share of ladies who walked down that street looking sorry for themselves, with the stories she’d heard it only felt like the appropriate response. She noted the slight limp from what she could only imagine was a tough working day and swiftly made up her mind. “I’m working an extra tonight.” She said through a puff of cigarette smoke, leaving it between her pouted lips as she pulled herself up from the stairs and nodded back towards the club. “You can have as many drinks as you need, on the house. Consider it my treat.”

Spencer’s jaw dropped a little in delight and she smiled at the older woman, “Are you serious? You really are a gift from the heavens or something even better...” She shrugged cheekily, “Maybe let me tip you then? Does that mean you can’t drink with me? Drinking alone is most certainly not as fun, and you are delightful company.”

c l o s e d  s t a r t e r — @opcnwounds​​

THE NIGHT WAS JUST BEGINNING FOR MOST ON THE AVENUE. katalina was lucky to get the early shift at k n o c k e r s — although that didn’t change the raunchy behavior some of the customers men displayed. she knew exactly what she had signed up for when accepting the job offer, but some of the men made her sick to her stomach. the neon lights lit up the navy sky on her walk home, the shared apartment with spencer hayes. going into a shared lease blind was something the younger would never do after this experience. katalina found herself unlocking the door to an empty apartment, thankfully. maybe she’d be able to relax before going to bed for once. slender fingers twisted the cap off the fruit flavored rum, downing her third shot of the night. a mixed drink followed. katalina stepped in her room momentarily to grab the weed she’d bought the night before. she packed a bowl before heading to the shared common space and turning her music on the bluetooth speaker. the lighter hovered over the green substance as her lips parted to inhale. it seemed too perfect a night — no sirens, just the hum of the neon lights outside their windows and crowds of people and their parties bar hopping — something or someone was going to ruin it.

Spencer was fucking exhausted after her weekly dialysis session. It was a blessing that she had the whole day off at the brothel (and the money to pay for the session) and all she wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a blanket, some tea and ruin her roommate’s Netflix algorithm. They didn’t even have Netflix preferences in common, not that they would ever just like... sit down and partake in television watching together. It sounded outrageous and it made Spencer almost shudder. She didn’t know what it was about the younger girl that just made her tick; maybe she was jealous of her age and how she seemed to have things more together than herself, maybe it was her inflated ego that clashed with her own, maybe it was the fact that she could never get the upper hand when their drunk hatred escalated to animalistic sex... All were possible answers. 

Spencer rolled her eyes and almost growled at the light coming from under the door, and the god awful music, “good bye, peace.” and she unlocked the door noisily, in clear annoyance. “they should criminalize again whatever cheap poison ivy you’re smoking, sheesh.” the words were out of her lips before she could stop them and slip into her room ignoring katalina. change of plans, she thought as she grabbed her favorite vodka from the fridge and chugged down and indefinite amount. Like an idiot, on an empty stomach and with less tolerance than usual. She just leaned against the fridge, trying to ignore Kat as she felt the hard liquor warming up her insides. 

Stevie had perched herself on the steps leading up to Anastasia’s, completely in the way of those trying to come up them but she was on her one break of the night, they could all around her if they were that desperate for some leather-clad ladies serving them cheap liquor. She absentmindedly picked at her fishnets while taking a drag from her cigarette, one of the few vices that kept her going through the long night-shift. Her eyes drifted up long enough to catch someone walking past the bar, recognizing them from around the avenue she decided to call out their name.

“Looks like you’ve had a long night, fancy a drink?” 

It was the required billionth time that Spencer was doubting her life choices. Mainly what related to her job. She had just gotten herself together after “servicing” two wallstreet fratboys that were trying to prove something to each other by trying to permanently pound Spencer into the mattress. The display of fragile and brute masculinity had been pitiful and disgusting and the brunette couldn’t wait to leave the brothel behind. She was crossing in front of Anastasia’s, a slight limp in her step from a pulled muscle in her groin when she spotted Stevie’s familiar face, a smile creeping across her lips. “Yes. God, yes,” she responded with a sigh, approaching the other woman. “I fancy about eleven, but I’m willing to pay for at least half of those myself. Where to?”

          » some nights, ofelia found herself overwhelmed by her own emotions.  she  enjoyed  what  she  did,  for  the  most  part.  but  even  so,  she  found  herself  caught  up  in  a  back  and  forth  argument  with  herself.  she  felt  ashamed  but  relieved.  even  though  she  enjoyed  herself,  she  was  ashamed  of  herself.  embarrassed.  but  with  the  money  she  earned,  she  had  a  nice  apartment,  and  she  wanted  for  nothing.  she’d  had  a  long  night  this  night  in  particular,  and  her  body  was  tired  and  aching  everywhere.  she  didn’t  think  it  was  possible,  feeling  so  run  down  after  being  with  countless  people  doing  all  the  work.

                    so  after  her  shift  finished  and  she  grabbed  her  cut  of  the  pay,  she  found  herself  going  elsewhere  rather  than  straight  home,  where  she  would  have  overthought  her  life’s  decisions  before  masturbating  until  she  fell  asleep.  as  she  headed  towards  the  bar,  her  shoulder  nudged  someone  else,  and  she  heard  a  clatter  -  along  with  a  splash  of  wetness  against  her  feet.  she’d  knocked  a  drink  to  the  ground  -  though  she  was  unsure  if  it  was  theirs  or  if  they  were  taking  the  drink  to  someone  else.  ❝  god  i’m  sorry  -  please  let  me  replace  it.  ❞ 

spencer had been nursing her same drink for the better part of two hours, conscious about what the alcohol could do to her issues and ever so conscious of the bills. Earlier, she had to refill a bunch of her prescriptions and the numbers of her bank account had severely declined. It was a slippery slope, welcoming client after client in a neverending parade, ignoring whatever it was they were packing and trying both to pretend they were the woman that had broken her heart and not thinking about her. The significant amount of money that landed in her hands was always gone almost immediately, because bills, bills, bills and so. much. debt. Vodka worked well in jumpstarting the subtle siren song of sleep, so thoughts and worries would mellow out a little by the time Spencer was ready to pass the fuck out in her bed.

Just as she was thinking of taking her drink to a more secluded corner, her diluted beverage was knocked out of her hand by a mortified soul. Quickly recovering from the shock and flagging down a bartender for a washcloth, Spencer chuckled quietly. “Hey, it’s all good. No harm, no foul. It was mostly ice anyway,” she tried to reassure the doe eyed girl. “You look like another victim of a long week, what’s your poison?” she asked, flagging one of their bartenders again to order more drinks.

allison williams, lesbian, cisfemale + she/her ➸ hey look, it’s SPENCER HAYES! they’re 26 years old and originally from DETROIT, MICHIGAN. now they’re in new york, working as an ESCORT at BITCH BITE BAR. i heard they’re pretty HEEDLESS, but i think they’re so WITTY at the same time. have they found their calling on the avenue?

tw: it’s fucking long because i am insufferable, mentions of parent death, chronic illness and lesbian debauchery