there was no more space for you at home. no more space for you in your hometown. too much partying, drinking, dancing, having fun. they just don’t get it. what the fuck else are your twenties for?

but the silver slipper had space for you.

walking through a dusty california highway, sneakers scuffing against the dry and cracked pavement, the warm desert air tangling in your hair. you had gotten in a big, bad fight with your parents, they were complaining about your work ethic, your future, and other bullshit. they must’ve had enough, because now you had to hitchhike. 

mascara was stinging your eyes and tears made it hard to see, and you kept wiping it with the back of your hand, probably making it worse, but you were no pussy so you kept walking. that’s when a car slowed down beside you. 

alamo’s car.

he let you in the passenger seat without much question. the girls in the back were beautiful, beaded bras glittering from the sun and sharp graphic liner adorning their eyes. they gently fixed your makeup and hair. by the time you arrived at the silver slipper, you felt like yourself again. maybe even a bit better.

and you aren’t stupid. you knew how this looked, but it pays well, gets you free makeup products, pretty outfits, and you always wanted to learn how to throw it back and really dance anyway. 

you were the type to find the good in most things, to smile first and ask questions later. you turned a blind eye to the parts of the job that felt a little too flawed, because the parts that weren’t, you found fun. the music, the lights, and when you actually got to keep your bikini on. you could get paid more if you did special favours, but you could just settle for taking your top off, for now.

a lof of the girls were supportive, surprisingly. they taught you how to give a lap dance, the customers who pay a lot for a little, and the ones who pay a little for a lot. you would do each other’s hair and makeup. the dressing room was always the best part. since you were still learning, some nights you danced and some nights you served drinks, which you didn’t mind.

they kinda saw you as the baby of the group, because you could be a bit slow to things and situations. oblivious, even.

alamo liked it about you. the customers liked it even more.

usually by the end of the night, all the girls would be quiet, tired, a little drunk, and a little high. it was just routine at this point. 

you weren’t the newest for long though, because a week after you came, rue started working at the club. she was cool, chill. kept things somewhat organized in the dressing room. you talked to her quite a bit as the both of you kept interacting.

you conversed with her because you were lonely, rue conversed with you because she was lonely. she also thought you were attractive, which you never really picked up on. not in a way she did much with, but it was there. then again, rue found a lot of the girls here attractive. 

one night you were doing your lashes in the mirror, when rue walked in, duffel bag over one shoulder. “rue?” you said, recognizing her from when you overheard alamo talking about her. “yeah,” she nods at you, dropping the bag in the office beside the dressing room. “you’re the other new hire, huh?”

you shake your head with a smile. “i’m not that new anymore.” you say. 

she almost smiles back at you. “you’ve been here a week longer than me. barely.”

finishing up your makeup, you sit up and take your little robe off, hanging it neatly on the wall full of hooks with clothes draped on them. “nice meeting you, rue.” you say, smiling a cute smile at her, before walking away. rue’s eyes follow your frame, from your pink 6-inch pumps, up to your sparkly thong and matching bra.

after a long night, the dancers file into the office and receive their stacks of cash for the week. you smile kindly after receiving yours, tucking it safely into your bag. you had made a lot of money tonight, just from dancing and flirting, thankfully.

most of the girls had left now. you were sitting on the floor eating your favourite salt and vinegar chips that you buy from the vending machine almost daily, still in your sparkly bra and a pair of sweats because you really couldn’t be bothered with how tired you were right now.

rue came in to do her end of night check, making sure the customers hadn’t left anything behind, because if they did, whatever it was belonged to alamo now. she move around quietly for a bit and sat down next to you.

you offered her the bag, and she took a handful.

“customers weird tonight?” she said eventually.

“they’re always weird.” you tease, smiling at her. you weren’t lying though.

rue liked you. she thought you were sweet. always smiley and you made good money. there was one time, a new customer had walked in. not really throwing tips, not really buying any services. just lurking around you. you kept smiling because that’s the job, but you definitely noticed.

when you got to the back, rue was by the door, waiting for you. “you want me to get alamo to talk to that guy? he’s acting weird as fuck.”

you shake your head, looking up at rue reassuringly. “i’m fine.”

“that’s not what i asked.” rue says, standing there calmly, waiting. just ready. just in case.

“not yet.” you say.

rue nods, and you thank her.

but there was one day, one day where instead of leaving for the night, rue stayed. it had been a couple weeks since you had met her now, and you have moved your relationship status from aquaintances to friends. 

as you take off your makeup and settle into the couch that alamo lets you sleep on in the dressing room, you hear rue talking to someone. assuming its a client you shrug it off. you pull the blanket over your scantily clad body. you did not have many clothes, so you usually just slept in a sports bra and some mini shorts, which you had long since stopped feeling weird about.

you close your eyes and try to drown out the minimal noise of rue and whoever she is talking to. eventually, you fall asleep, your hair fanned out around your head and a sleepy pout on your lips. this sleep doesn’t last long, however. sounds of rue walking in the room and speaking in an urgent, hushed tone fill your ears, and you groggily push the blanket off your face and blink slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim neon lights. 

as your vision comes to focus, you can see rue smoking as she is talking to a boy with curly hair, and grown out frosted tips. he is wearing brown baggy jeans and a beige graphic tee. he makes eye contact with your bleary, puffy eyes, and pouted lips from lack of sleep. the boy points at you and rue looks over, her eyes widening.

“oh shit, i completely forgot you sleep here y/n.” she says, as you sit up, letting the blanket fall.

you give her a bright smile despite your sleepiness, shaking your head. “it’s okay rue, who is this?”

rue smiles back at you. “thanks cutie. this is elliot. he’s a- i know him from high school.” she says, gesturing to the boy whos mouth is agape beside her.

you nod and focus your gaze to elliot. “hi, i’m y/n. i work here with rue.” you pause, then strangely feel the need to clarify. “well, not with her, i don’t do what she does. i dance here.” another pause from you. “which probably sounds worse. i’m a dancer. that’s my job.” you stop yourself before you can make it any more of a thing.

elliot blinks at you. then slowly, he smiled at you.

rue presses her lips together, making a trying not to laugh face as she looks down at her cigarette. “you’re good,” elliot said finally. “i got it.”

“okay.” you said. you then feel like you should be doing something with your hands, so you reach down at the bag of chips that you were snacking on earlier and held it out towards them. “you want some?”

rue made a noise that sounded like a laugh horribly disguised as a cough. but you don’t notice. typical.

elliot looks at rue, then back at you, his smile never disappearing. “yeah, sure.” he took a few strides and arrived at your couch and took a few chips, before sitting down on the floor and leaning against the couch.

rue stayed sedentary in her position on you couch opposite you, one leg thrown over the arm of it as she blows smoke lazily upwards towards the ceiling. her expression found you and elliot’s interactions very entertaining.

you chat with elliot for a little while. small talk. you have always been really good at small talk. could be because you are pretty outgoing, or because you don’t realize when someone is sick of your yapping. even though you loved to talk, you weren’t annoying about it. you only say things you care to say.

elliot listened to you more than he spoke, which you didn’t mind. maybe he was tired, as you were as well. you are used to filling space, and he seemed comfortable letting you.

at some point you got quieter, and your eyes grew heavier.

“she’s fallin’ asleep,” elliot says quietly, looking up at rue.

“she does that,” rue says. “she’s out in like, two minutes when she gets tired.”

you force your eyes back open just to prove a point. “i’m not asleep.”

“you just said you saw a cat walking on the road alone and you wanted to rescue it and then just stopped talking.” rue said. “i do.” you murmur, as you pull the blanket back up your body. your eyes quickly shut again, your lashes splaying against your cheeks.

elliot’s big brown eyes watched you with curiosity.

“cute.” rue says simply as she stubs out her cigarette. elliot doesn’t respond. he just took one more look at you, then pushed himself off the floor and followed rue out the door.

as rue and elliot finally get outside, they are hit with a gust of the warm, dry california air, as the sun was almost up. the two of them lean against the wall, sharing the cigarette. it almost felt like high school all over again. 

“okay so jules-” rue starts.

“how long has she worked there??”

rue looks at elliot, confused. “what?”

“y/n,” he said, gesturing his hands like it was obvious. “how long has she been at the silver slipper.”

rue stares at him, dumbfounded. “like, three weeks. elliot this is important. i was literally just about to-”

“does she always sleep there? like that’s her uh… situation?”

“i mean, yeah, for now probably.” rue took a long drag. “alamo lets her use the couch. she has her little setup with a lamp and her damn-”

“chips?”

“the chips, yeah. she likes those ones a lot.”  rue tilts her head at elliot. “why are you so-”

“jus’ asking.” he shrugs, taking the cigarette from in between rues fingers.

“you’re asking a lot.”

elliot shoves his hands in his pockets and gives the cigarette back to rue. “so she just walked in off the highway and started working here?” 

rue sighs. “from what she tells me, basically yeah. alamo picked her up, and now she’s here. she acts like it’s the best thing that ever happened to her.”

“does she mean it?”

rue shrugs. “i think she actually might. that’s just kinda how she is i guess. anyways, jules has been-” “do you think y/n will-” rue turned to look at him with an exasperated expression. “elliot.” 

his eyes go wide. “what.”

“i’m trying to tell you something like, really fuckin’ important.”

“i know… i’m listening.”

“bullshit.”

he was quiet for a second, then opened his mouth again. “does she always ramble like that? like the thing about the dancing and clarifying ‘n shit?”

rue closed her eyes for a second. “yes. she used to do that to customers until she realized they weren’t listening, they were just staring at her tits.” elliot laughed for a second, and then rue pointed a finger in his face. “you like her.” 

“i just met her.”

“she was literally half asleep and you were basically drooling on her.”

“she’s uh, interesting?”

rue stares at elliot for a long moment. then stubbed out the cigarette. “jules.” she says firmly. “we are talking about jules now.” elliot nods.

he came back three days later.

rue invited him, and put his ass to work. alamo wanted her to move a few things around, and no way she was doing that on her own, and since she knew elliot was fond of seeing his favourite dancer, she knew he’d have no problem with helping out.

and he didn’t.

as elliot was walking by he saw that you were sitting at one of the mirrors in your robe, carefully gluing rhinestones near your eyes with a tiny brush, your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth in concentration.

he stopped walking. “hey!” you smile at his reflection in the mirror. “you came back.” you say, as he grins at you. “yeah, rue needed some help. and i wanted to talk to you again.” he sits next to you.

you end up almost being late for your set as you talk to him. the two of you always get lost in conversation. he asks, you talk, he listens. “good luck, beautiful.” he teases, as you drop your robe and walk out to the main area.

he kept coming back. always ending up near you. you were sitting in the dressing area one night, in your robe, telling him about how you kept slipping on your heels this week.

 “i almost didn’t slip yesterday.” you say proudly. 

he looked down at you, smiling. “almost.”

“i mean, its progress.” 

“sure.” his smile gets wider. “you gonna show me sometime?”

your cheeks started to burn up. “maybe when i stop slipping.”

“i don’t mind if you slip.” he responds, reaching in his pocket and putting a cigarette in your mouth, before lighting it for you.

about an hour later, you got back into the main area, walking around in a baby pink shimmery bikini, and white heels, working the floor. 

elliot was setting some bottles in the bar from a box with rue, with a direct sightline to where you were standing, laughing at something a regular whispered in your ear, your hand on his arm as you sit in his lap.

rue noticed elliot staring, and rolled her eyes playfully, nudging him with her arm. “that’s a regular, danny. he’s got a boat. he tips well, but she thinks he’s boring.” rue says as elliot set down the bottle of casamigos he was holding. “i didn’t say anything.” he says. opening up another box of liquor, rue shakes her head. “you’re too obvious, man.”

the night that followed was like any other for you. dances, tips, drinks, talking with rue and elliot. eventually, the music stopped like it always did.

it was around six a.m. and you were dead asleep on your couch. your hair tousled everywhere, and a blanket half on you.

the door creaked open.

elliot stood still in the doorway for a second, his eyes adjusting to the soft purple glow of the dressing room lights. he had driven past the silver slipper a few times before actually pulling in. rue had asked him to drop something off because she was busy with jules, which was technically true, except rue had said whenever and it was six in the morning.

he set a paper bag down on the vanity quietly, and carefully. then he turned to look at you.

you never left. that’s what had been in the back of elliot’s mind for the past week. you had been here for weeks, and had everything you needed here. elliot kept thinking about it. the whole world you existed in consisted of the couch, the vending machine chips, the hair, makeup, all of it was inside this club.

he hadn’t planned this. he just found himself at a mcdonald’s drive thru early in the morning. a soft sound suddenly came from your mouth, like a yawn.

you blinked, slowly and tiredly, the way you always were when you woke up. your eyes drifted over to him. “elliot?” 

“hey.” he said, casually.

you propped yourself up on an elbow. “where’s rue?”

“not here.” 

you looked around, as if rue was hiding in the fucking walls or something. “you came without rue?”

he shrugs. “yeah.”

you stare at him, before moving your gaze to the paper bag on the vanity. “what’s in the bag?”

“food.” he responds. at this, you sat all the way up, your blanket falling to your lap. your hair was a mess, with fallen out curls and hairspray, and makeup mostly off. “you brought me food?”

“i brought food,” he says. “you can have some if you want.”

you smiled at him, and he smiled right back. “okay.” you said softly as he picks up the paper bag. “here, lets eat in my car. you need to get out of here for a bit.”

his car smells like him. warm, a little cologne-ey and weed. the two of you were sat in the back seat, and you had the paper bag in your lap and the window open. “i don’t have shoes on.” you say, realizing your sleepy mistake.

elliot glanced down at your bare feet and laughs. “i noticed.” you sigh. “i forgot.” elliot shakes his head. “it’s six a.m. s’fine.”

you shrug and open the bag, feeding yourself a few fries. you offered them to elliot first, like you offered the chips.

the two of you sat there, eating quietly and watching the occasional car drive by. “so,” elliot starts. “when’d you last leave here? like, to actually go somewhere.”

you think for a second. “i went to the gas station. last week, i think.” he stares at you, so you clarify. “the one down the road.” 

elliot nods slowly, looking out the window. “that’s what i thought.” you look at him confused, and defensive. “it’s not a big deal,” you said. “i have everything i need here.” 

“vending machine chips.” elliot teases. “they have like six options.” you say seriously. “and the salt and vinegar ones are-” 

“i know, i know.” he said, and he was smiling. he found this very cute. “the best ones.” he finishes. “yeah!” you confirm with a smile of your own.

the bag was pretty much empty now. you had eaten more than him, which he took as a good thing. you twirl your hair in between your fingers as you crumple up the bag, and then notice elliot looking at you. 

“what.” 

“nothin’” he says, smiling.

the two of you were close enough that you could see him very clearly. his curls, his features, and the way he was looking at you. like he could be anywhere else doing god knows what but he was choosing to spend his time here. with you. the pretty dancer from rue’s work.

“elliot,” 

“yeah.” 

he patiently waits for you to finish your sentence but you weren’t fully sure what you wanted to say. his eyes dropped down to your mouth, then slowly back up again. he didn’t move closer, he didn’t want to push it. just waited.

when you closed the distance, it was soft at first. barely there, even. your mouth found his, and his hand slowly came up to your jaw, and rested there. you pressed in a little more and felt him pull you a bit closer. when you pulled back, you were even closer than before.

as your lips curve into a smile, he kisses you again. his other hand was now on your waist, and you moved closer. he kissed you slow and intimate, which made you feel warm all the way down your body. the two of you pulled away after along while, your lips wet and cheeks flush

“you’re really pretty, y/n.” he mumbled, unable to wipe the smile off his face. “you’re really obvious.” you mumble back. he scoffs against your lips. “rue said the same shit.”

you grabbed the empty bag and pushed the door open, your bare feet on the concrete. “thanks for breakfast.” you grin at elliot. “anytime.” he replies, grabbing a pre roll from his glove box and lighting it as you walked away. you didn’t look back, but you were grinning the whole way.

later that night, men filed in for the evening rush. you spot elliot walking around with rue, probably doing something for alamo. you were up on the pole, one leg hooked on it and your feet pointed. the pink and orange lights caught the shimmer on your tiny silver bra. your hair was down and curled, and your heels added a good six inches to your height.

your eyes had found elliot automatically at this point, now used to the sight of him. he and rue were now standing by alamo. rue was doing all the talking, and he was pretending to listen with his arms crossed, but he was watching you. you blew him a kiss, and he grinned lazily, as rue nudged him harshly.

the corridor was cool compared to the heat of the coloured lights onstage. you were walking slowly back to the dressing room, catching your breath. a warm hand wrapped itself around your wrist, and you grinned already knowing who it was.

elliot took you in up close, clearly loving today’s getup. "you’re my favourite dancer.” is what he said quietly before he kissed you.

it was a very different kiss than the car. no patience. his hands were on you immediately, and your fingers were gripping at his shirt, kissing him back. he walked you back until your shoulders made contact with the wall behind you, as you arched into him.

his hands move quickly and firmly. you relished in his touch and the feeling of his lips on yours, as well as the slight taste of weed on his tongue when it came in contact with yours. his fingers were moving nimbly and slipped in your bra, and then the door opened.

rue stood there holding a white bag in one hand as she took in the sight before her. you against the wall, and elliot’s head dropping to your shoulder as he tried his best not to laugh. your eyes are wide, resembling a deer almost getting hit by a fucking car. “rue-” elliot starts.

“it’s fine elliot. just-” her eyes fall to his hand pressed on your tit. “if you guys are gonna fuck, just go to your car.”

she walks back through where she came from, and elliot is grinning. he kisses your jaw before stepping back from against you, and already tugging your hand towards the back exit to the parking lot.

a/n - lmk thoughtssss my inbox is dry go ask questions or req or sum bye bye <33

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