It’s another day at Babes. Another day full of corpulent men sitting at the edge of the bar, trying to get laid. It’s sick to think that this is my job. I look around the room, studying the other ladies applying their lip stick, fishnets, and other skanky garb. I guess I don't have much room to talk considering the outfit that I have on today. It's not as skanky as some of theirs, but it's not something a person usually wears either. I study myself in the mirror.. A white see through "dress" that ends at my mid thigh, Christ, you can see my underwear...my hair, an artificial looking bleach blond, tossed wildly around my face...eyes outlined in dark black and lips pink. Yes, a true whore.

I hear my name being called through the microphone and I stand up on my six inch heels. My feet are sore from the previous dancing around the poll. I walk over to the black velvet curtain that frames the stage. Bright colorful lights dart out from under it, reflecting off my white glitter heels. The curtains fly back and my smile flies on. I seductively walk across the stage, making sure my hips sway to the sexy beat. My tongue darts out, moistening my lips as I seek out my prey. My eyes scan the crowd for the highest bill, and I am lured in by a hand languidly waving a Ben Franklin. Six men sit at the corner of the bar with huge grins spread across their faces. The one in the middle has a birthday hat on...I smile at him, he's shoving cake in his face and guzzling beer out of one of those hats with the beer cans attached. It says: "Babes Birthday Boy". I reach him and shake my ass in his face, pulling back when I feel his fingers touch my ankles.

"Hey," the man seated next to him barks at me. "Give the man what he paid for."

I look over at my supervisor, hoping that he will excuse me from the rowdy group. No such luck. His expression is telling me I better get with the program or my ass is out the door. Reluctantly, I step back toward Birthday Boy, and cringe as I feel his hand run up and down my leg. I let his fingers travel up to my mid thigh before turning around. My legs slip around the poll, and I cringe as I hear the cluster of men begin to howl and whistle at me while I do my thing. My stomach turns at the thought of them staring at my half naked body.

Finally, my number ends. The men are cheering me on, begging me for another round. I walk away, hating myself for the ten minutes I have just endured.

It's just another day at Babes...only eight more hours to go.
********************************
It's been two hours. The rotation starts up again. It's Kelly first, then Cindy, and then I go. Cindy's number has just begun, and I'm glad because she always takes extra time with her act. She actually enjoys her work. I'm eating a quick lunch...tuna fish on rye. It's short lived.

"Forget your number, I need you for a private show."

I turn my head in the direction of the doorway. My boss is standing there, accompanied by a short man, who looks like he's almost got muscles...he just needs a few more hours in the gym, and less Coffee Cake. I recognize him as one of the men seated next to Birthday Boy. He's good looking, but definitely not my type. A glob of tuna falls on my shirt. I frown. "A private show?"

My boss nods. "Go."

"I don't do private shows, sorry." I look back to my lunch. I swipe the left over tuna off of my shirt with my finger, and stick it in my mouth.

Coffee Cake man laughs. "Sweetness, I don't think you know just who it is that you're dealing with."

I look up. He motions behind him.

It's Birthday Boy...less the beer can hat. He is very well toned, very good looking, and very, very drunk. His eyelids are half closed, and I'm wondering if alcohol is the only chemical running through his veins.

"I don't give a shit who he is." I roll my eyes, and look back at my sandwich. "I said no private shows." What doesn't this guy understand? I said no. We may be strippers, but we aren't private property.

"What if we pay you extra?" he challenges me, with a playful expression.

Extra? I turn around, one eyebrow raised. "How much extra?"

Coffee Cake man reaches into his pocket and whips out a stack of bills as thick as a fist. "Name your price sweetness," he laughs.
************************
I've never been in this section of the club before. It's the VIP lounge. I never knew that we had a VIP lounge. Now that I'm in here though, I realize that the girls I always thought had left after their shifts were actually up here giving lap dances and whatever else these rich types asked for. Some people will do anything to make a few extra dollars. I always thought these type of people where nothing but whores. But now, here I am, doing exactly what I told myself I'd never do.

Birthday boy stumbles behind me, giggling the entire way. His hands roam my backside and thighs. I tremble slightly, but I doubt he has noticed. I stop in front of the black door and Bert the Bouncer opens it for us, not hesitating to give me a reassuring wink as he does so...perv. I groan softly as I feel Birthday Boy wrap his arms around my waist from behind and lick my neck, making it evident on how much he wants this. He stinks of Jack Daniels and...lemons?

I hear the door slam shut behind us. This is it...just me and him, in this tiny room. I finally turn around, and make myself look at Birthday Boy. Strange...so familiar looking. He standing before me, a queer, childlike smile spread across his face. He doesn't look as trashed as he did before, and I'm hoping that this is a good thing.

"What is it that you want exactly?" I ask him.

"I want to touch you," he begins, taking slow steps towards me. "I want you to do...what you do best."

I cringe inside. I don't want to, but Coffee Cake man has offered me ten thousand dollars to do this. Ten thousand dollars...

We have sex on the floor. I don't understand this, because of the fact that a bed has been provided. The sex is wonderful, even...beautiful...he is beautiful. It doesn't feel like some cheap sex that I'm getting paid for, no. Birthday Boy is making me feel like we've known each other for years and are just having sex for the first time. He is too good at this...he is amazing...

We're making love...

It ends. I snap out of the fantasy. He helps me to my feet and smiles.

"Thanks."

I don't reply.

"When do you work next?" He asks.

"T-tomorrow." I squeak out.

"You wanna maybe...come to my place tomorrow?" He inquires. "You know, it won't be as raunchy there."

"I don't think my boss would go for that." I inform him.

"Trace just gave you ten grand." He laughs. "I don't think you need to come in anymore."

My eyes widen. I had been so caught up in the moment just now, I had forgot all about the money that I had shoved in my purse before coming up here. But now I remember, thanks to Birthday Boy...and I also know Coffee Cake man's name now. Trace...what a girls name that is. "You want me to come to your house?"

He nods his head in approval and begins to put his clothes back on.

"How will I get there?"

"Meet me here," he informs me. "My name is Justin by the way."

"Oh," I stare at him. Justin...my God...Birthday Boy isn't just some horny kid. "Justin Timberlake," I state.

"Yeah." He half smiles. "Now, don't get all squealy girly on me."

Squealy girly? I gawk at him, like he's a fool for saying such a thing.

He doesn't take my gaze to heart, or maybe, he's just too drunk to notice. "Meet me out front at seven thirty tomorrow night," Justin orders. "And don't tell anybody."

I shake my head. Me? Tell somebody that I'm going to fuck Justin Timberlake for the second night in a row...at his house, which is probably bigger than the state of Tennessee? The guy must think I'm addicted to crack. "I'll be there," I say seriously, so he doesn't get the impression that I'm totally ready to drool all over myself.

"Good," he doesn't smile. "Tell me your name."

"Deja."

"Deja...hmmph." He raises his eyebrows, and staggers away, obviously still intoxicated.

Within seconds he is gone, and I am left standing in the tiny room, naked and alone...but it's well worth it.

I never have to come back to this place.

********************

"Weren't you supposed to be at work an hour ago?"

I open my eyes. My roommate, Jade, is standing there. Her expression is tired. She works at the supermarket down the street. I smile. She won't have to go back there tomorrow. "Look in my bag," I tell her.

She gives me a weird look, but does what I've asked of her. "Jesus!" She exclaims, once she peers inside my bag, "Where the hell did you get all that money?"

"Work," I reply as if that explanation made the situation make total sense.

She scrunches up her nose. "Work?"

I sigh, and sit up in bed. "Yesterday a group of guys came in and ya know...wanted a little extra entertainment."

"What, did you wake Elvis from the dead and have him come in to put on a free show? Come on Dej', this is a lot of money...even on a strippers wages. None of those fat, disgusting men could possibly be wealthy enough to simply throw away ten grand on a peep show,” she tells me, picking up the bills and fanning them. "There's more to this," her eyes are filled with excitement. "Spill it."

"Justin Timberlake" I say, after debating about if it’s safe to tell her the truth or not.

She laughs at me. "Justin Timberlake. Girl, you’re gonna to have to do better than that. Why in the world would somebody as famous...and as hot...as Justin Timberlake, go to your strip club to have a good time? Come on, which one of those fat slobs robbed the bank? Billy Joe...Ray?"

I stand up and throw my pillow at her. "I'm serious! It was his birthday...or...something," I shrug and get down off of the bed. "I don't know...and it doesn't matter anyway. The only thing that matters is that I got paid a ton of money to do it."

She sends me an open mouthed stare. "You really are serious aren't you."

I grin from ear to ear. "Yup."

"You got to have sex with Justin freakin' Timberlake!?" Jade gasps. "Dude, you should have woken me up when you got home! Hell...screw telling me when you got home. You should have told him you had a friend who would simply love to join in!"

I'm not sharing her joy. "Its not like I'm proud of this, Jade. It was work, and I feel like a whore for doing it. The one thing that amazed me though, was when it was all over he didn't treat me like some slut. It was nice...you know, to feel like a woman for a change," I blush, I hate talking about sex with her. I grab my towel off of the floor, and make my way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

"Well it seems like you had an exciting night." She smiles, not hesitating to come into the bathroom with me. It's nothing knew. It's not like we haven't undressed in front of each other before.

That's what best friends do...

"So are you going to tell me the rest?" She persists.

I run the shower. "There's nothing else to tell." Well...not really anyway...

"Please," She rolls her eyes. "I know you Dej'...when you've had an adventure, there's always more to tell."

I sigh. "Well...alright. He told me not to tell anybody...but I guess I can trust you."

She lets out an excited squeal of delight. I try not to be amused.

"He wants me to come to his place tonight." I tell her. "He says the sex won't be so raunchy that way."

She looks at me, uncertain. "Are you sure...you know...that's it's a good idea. I mean, yeah, one time is great. But if you sleep with him again, he's going to expect to get it from you whenever he so desires. You're going to end up being his little hoe...or something."

"I'm not going to be his hoe."

She raises an eyebrow. "Ok...then we'll focus on the flipside. You could get attached to the guy, and have your heart broken when you realize he doesn't care about you...and he never did to begin with."

I step into the shower and yank the curtain closed. "It's business Jade. I'm a professional. I know how to keep business from mixing with my emotions."

"A professional?" Jade laughs. "A professional what? You take off your clothes and give lap dances to dirty old men."

I groan. I love her, I really do, but sometimes she acts like she's...my Mother or something. "I'm going." I tell her. "This is a good opportunity Jade, it's a lot of money...and by the end of the night he'll probably be handing me more. Don't you see? As long as I do this, we won't have to worry about money anymore." I explain. "You won't have to bag groceries anymore."

"It's not a good idea." Jade repeats. "I'd rather bag groceries for the rest of my life than see you give yourself to a pig like that."

A moment later I hear her leave the bathroom. The door slams...I know she's mad.

But I'm sick of my life. I'm sick of dancing for fat, ugly, lazy men. I want something good to happen to me...I want to be somebody.

And Justin...he can help me get there...well...at least I think he can.
********************************

7:35...

I sigh and kick the building. Justin didn't show up. I should have figured as much. He was pretty drunk last night. Maybe Jade was right. Why would somebody as rich, and hot...and famous as Justin Timberlake want me? He can have anybody he wants. I'm just another girl...another lay...

I'm crying now. I hate crying. Jade told me I was going to be heartbroken when I realized just how unimportant I am in his life...and she was right. She was right...and I was wrong.

I'm walking now...going home.

My life is horrible. I want to die.

A horn blares loudly...

"Hey...hey you! Hey girl!"

I whirl around. There is a big black Escalade parked in front of Babes. The windows are tinted...midnight black, you can't see in. I wonder...maybe you can't see out either. I squint, and shield my eyes...the lights are so bright. The car...I wouldn't be surprised if it had been bought yesterday.

There is a big black guy standing on the sidewalk, signaling me to come over to the car. I'm scared. Who is he? Why does he want me?

Maybe he saw me working at Babes...I'm nauseous, I don't want to fool around with him. When I'm close enough, he grabs me by my arm. I flinch...he's so strong. The man taps on the back drivers side window...it lowers, just enough so the man can be seen by whoever it is that is inside the vehicle.

The conversation is kept at a low whisper...I can't hear what they're saying. After several minutes their conversation ceases, and the window quickly rolls up. I'm shaking...I don't want to get in the car.

"Justin says he had a good time last night." The man smiles.

I'm relieved...he showed up after all.

"And he wants to have an even better time tonight. You think you can handle that girl?"

I don't answer, I only nod. In this business I've learned that you make more money if you talk less.

"Good." The man is satisfied. He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a piece of paper. He thrusts it in my face. "Justin says…read and sign."

I take it. It's some sort of contractual agreement. I'm confused:

I, the undersigned, willingly give up the right to release any public statement about my recurring relationship with one, Justin Timberlake. I, the undersigned, understand that by signing below, I will have accepted to abide by one, Justin Timberlake's rules and regulations (see "Team Justin" manual). Failure to follow the terms of the manual or the terms of this agreement will result in immediate civil action. These terms are as follows:

-The undersigned will follow a weekly meeting schedule that will be created by one, Justin Timberlake

-The undersigned must reside in Justin Timberlake’s home.

-The undersigned will forfeit all other male contacts from this point on.

-The undersigned will refer to herself only as the housekeeper when questioned by Mr. Timberlake's friends and family. Failure to comply will result in immediate civil action.

-The undersigned will not refer to any rumors that have been brought up in the media.

-The undersigned will except a payment of no more than three(3) million dollars for her services.

-The undersigned must agree to abide by the terms of this contract for one(1) year. This contract will be terminated 1/31/03.

By signing below, I, Deja Wilson, understand that I am bound by law to comply with all of the terms, rules, and regulations that have been explained to me.

X____________________ Date_______________

How does he know my last name?

I read the contract over again...his terms are absolutely ridiculous. A "weekly meeting schedule"? Who the hell does this guy think...

"Are you gonna sign it?" The man asks me, growing more impatient.

I don't hesitate. This is serious cash...and it's only for a year. What's a year? Nothing. Jade's gonna be so pissed...

I forget about her. The money offer is too overwhelming...I hastily scribble my signature on the dotted line and hand the paper back to the man...he snatches it away from me...he's laughing now.

The person that is in the car opens the door. I look...it's him...Justin. "Get in." He mumbles.

I do.