Missed Your Lips

Chapter 2 – Subconscious





“I don’t understand. You’re saying I have a ten percent chance of survival?”



“Miss, I’m saying that the cancer is spreading rapidly through your brain. It is moving so fast that it is now eating away at your memory center. You will be alive, but before long, you won’t even know who you are anymore.”



I could feel the tears falling down my face. A man was holding my hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “Doctor, what’s left that we can do?”



The man in the white coat let out a sigh, and simply shook his head. “Cryostatis is the only option left to her now. We have no way to cure her presently, but maybe in the future a remedy will make itself known. There is no surgeon in the world that can remove a cancer this advanced. It’s like it can’t survive without consuming your entire daughter. At least in cryosleep, the cancer has nowhere to go because nothing is functioning, so it too will go into dormancy.”



I looked at the man next to me. He wore a military uniform, decked out in numerous stars and bars. “I don’t want to do it, Daddy,” I whispered through my tears. “If all they’re going to do is put me to sleep, I might as well be dead anyway.”



He shook his head again. “That is not your decision to make, sweetie,” he said, petting my hand. “Why don’t you go outside to let us adults talk?”



Confused, I only nodded and left the room. The lobby of the doctor’s office was empty except for the office staff. Two nurses were bustling behind the glass panel, another was on the phone, and all of them were ignoring my presence. Taking a seat, I found a current newspaper. Depressing stories of war were splayed across the headlines. Body counts were rising in a variety of countries that threatened their independence. Fortunately, it looked like either way I went, I wouldn’t have to see any of it. Outwardly I was thankful, but on the inside I felt ashamed. My death would ensure I would never have to take part in these wars. But what about those people who were still suffering?



As I found my way to the business section, the door to the doctor’s main office opened. My father, the doctor, and two other men came through. “All right, take her. We have to prep her right away,” the doctor said, waving his hand toward me.



The two men grabbed my arms, and started to drag me to the front door. I kicked against them. “Daddy! Where are they taking me? Daddy! Talk to me!” I yelled. But my father said nothing, only turned back to the doctor and re-entered his office. I screamed for my father until they carried me from the office, slamming the door behind us.



~*~*~



A door slammed, jolting me from my troublesome dream.



“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Vince asked.



Looking around, I realized I was still in his office, lying on his couch. The setting sun was casting funky shadows on the walls as I sat up to stretch. Rubbing my eyes, I found Vince in front of me with a bottle of beer in his hand.



“Here, you might need this,” he said, twisting off the cap and forcing the bottle into my hand. “Another bad dream?”



I looked at the bottle, then at him. “Um, I can’t be drinking if I’m tending.”



After taking a swig of his own, he said, “Yeah, about that. I need your help tonight.”



Curious as to why I might not be bartending tonight, I couldn’t help but take a long drink of my beer. “Really? If I’m not working the bar, am I bouncing?”



Beer spewed from his mouth as he fought back a laugh. He started to cough, then drained the rest of his bottle to halt the coughing. He reached around his desk and picked up a bag. Throwing it to me, he said, “Not likely, but this might help you.”



Setting my bottle on the floor, I unzipped the bag and pulled out several garments, many of which looked minimalist at best. I held up a short white blouse, then picked up an extremely short plaid skirt. I could only glare at Vince. “Unless tonight is a costume party, I’m going to have to say no to this offer.”



I shoved the clothes back into the bag, grabbed my beer, and left the room. I could hear Vince shouting behind me as I raced down the stairs to the club. The lights were on, but no music was playing. The bouncers were setting up the tables and chairs for tonight’s show. They just watched as I stormed into the girls’ room. Finding the bathroom, I locked myself in a stall.



It didn’t take long for Vince to follow me, no doubt the bouncers ratted out my position. I’m sure they were just outside the door, listening to our fight. Not that it was the first one we’d ever had, but he’d never asked me to do this before.



He started to bang on the door. “I need your help, Synna. You’re the only one who can do it.”



“Don’t you have twenty other girls who do that for you?”



“Yes I do, but four of them are sick, two are on vacation, and two others are in jail. I don’t expect to see them again. Anyway, that leaves me with twelve girls, and I need thirteen for a Saturday night. Come on, Synna, I’m desperate.”



“Vince, I’ve never danced before, I wouldn’t know the first thing to do.”



He laughed on the other side of the door. “You have worked in this bar for over a year. How could you possibly not know the first thing about stripping? Damn woman, you hardly wear any clothes when you are here. Now you get the chance to show the flesh that I won’t let you advertise behind the bar.”



I must have still been in sleep mode because his words made sense. It didn’t matter what excuse I used, he’d find a way around it. If I had to do this, I had conditions.



“How many acts would I need to do?”



“Only one, the girls have rearranged the schedule enough to have every set covered but one. Four minutes, you’re finished, and hopefully I’ll never have to ask for this favor again.”



One set? That’s it? I think I can handle that, but he’s going to pay for it. “Since I won’t be making the bar tips, I want to keep all the money I make on stage.”



“Out of the question, I will still take my percentage and the bartender’s cut,” he huffed from the other side of the door.



I kicked the bathroom door. “Fine, you can do the set, and I’ll tend bar.”



“What?” he yelled. “Our customers don’t want to see that shit. They can go to Flamers down the street.” He was silent for a moment. “Fine, the money’s yours. But I need you behind the bar when you’re finished. Now will you come out?”



I opened the door to find him leaning against the next stall, arms crossing his chest. He bent down and handed me the bag. “Um, I have one more prerequisite. Well, it’s more like a wager,” I said, taking the bag.



“No, no,” he said from behind. As I dumped the contents of the bag onto the counter, he must have seen my reaction to the clothing because he continued. “Ok, what is it?”



I picked up the simple white panties that had fallen out last, swinging them around my finger. “Well, I figure I need some incentive to do well, so here’s the deal. If I make more money on stage in one set than I would have all night working the bar, I get the rest of the night off.”



Pulling off my shirt, I heard him snort behind me. “There’s no way you’ll make that much.”



Taking down my ponytail, I threw my head forward to shake out my hair. Then I bent over and touched my hands to the floor, stretching my legs. “Oh, you don’t think so?”



Vince cleared his throat. “Syn, you clear an easy $1000 on the weekends. The girls on stage make a lot less than that for the entire night.”



Standing up straight, I laid back into a backbend. The small bra I had on barely held my breasts against the gravity that wanted them to fall out. Vince only smiled at me, seemingly unconvinced by my abilities. “Then take the bet. I’ll even tend bar in those clothes for the rest of the night if I lose.”



Vince stood next to me as I came upright again. Sifting through the garments, he laid them out for viewing on the counter. “You know, no one here does a routine in a schoolgirl’s uniform. You really think you can pull this off?”



I started to unbutton my pants. “That’s exactly why I can pull it off. And if you didn’t have faith in me, you wouldn’t have asked in the first place.”



Vince slapped his hand on the counter. “Fine, I’ll take the bet. You’re not up until the third act, so I need you at the bar during the first act. After that, you can come back and get ready. The set is already prepared, all you have to do is show up and perform.”



Vince held out his hand waiting for me to shake it. I eyed him closely. Something in his expression told me there was more to this. I wasn’t sure what it was, but if I found out later he was lying to me, I was taking an extended vacation, possibly somewhere I could see the night sky.



I accepted his outstretched hand, and quickly shook it. “Good, now get out. I need a shower to wash your scummy germs off of me.”



He laughed as he opened the door, only to find three bouncers leaning against it, eavesdropping. “Don’t you shitheads have something to do? Get the hell out of here!” he yelled, shoving the guys away and slamming the door.



I arranged the clothes on the counter, trying to decide what “extras” the ensemble might need. The skirt was extremely short so the panties would obviously show. The shirt I could tie under my breasts, and I didn’t think I would need a bra. Looking around, I found some knee-high stockings hanging over one rack, and a pair of six-inch Mary Jane’s. Yeah, I could do this. I was very much in need of a night off.



~*~*~



The crowd was already riled up. Trixie’s little dance in her black chaps was always a crowd pleaser, but also a hard act to follow. I was walking around behind the curtains, trying to get used to the high shoes. The last thing I needed was a broken neck after humiliating myself on stage.



Trixie came behind the curtain to get me. I had two minutes for them to set up the music and lights. She immediately adjusted my breasts in the shirt, pinching my nipples. “Oww!”



“Sorry,” she said. “Gotta wake the girls up, hon.” She then turned me around and took down my ponytail.



“Hey, I just fixed all that!” I whispered loudly, hoping she could hear me over the crowd’s roars.



“Yes, and it was beautiful.” She said, grabbing my hair again, wrapping a ribbon around it this time. “But men want to see that gorgeous long hair of yours. You’ll rip it out with a normal holder. This will come out much easier.”



The DJ upstairs started making my entrance announcement, but didn’t use my name. Apparently I was a surprise act this evening. “That’s your cue, sweet stuff,” Trixie yelled, slapping me on the ass. “Now go make Vince eat that bet!”



The lights came down low, and I adjusted my fake glasses. Shoving a lollipop in my mouth, I made my way out to the darkened stage.