September had been a bikini bar dancer since last March. Not exactly her dream, but then again her dream was to marry DiCaprio and live on a yacht, so compromise had always been her skill set.
She came to LA three ago to become an actress, along with a million other wide eyed blondes with head full of hopes and bag full of headshots. For the first year she auditions for toothpaste commercials and background roles in medical dramas, she almost got a few of them, almost. Eventually survival and piling rent notices demanded something more practical, like shaking her hip to badly remixed Brittny songs.
But truthfully, she did not hate it.
September was the star of the joint and she had a regular crowd. Most came for her beauty. Few came for strange reasons. One guy came because she can explain sci-fi movies really well. Few others came because they were convinced she was their lucky charm before poker night.
She treated the stage like it was Hollywood. She had costume changes and she knew her best angles.
And if you give her a strong lemon soda, she would do a strange mesmerizing dance.
“Why did you pick up September as your name?” a guy asked, this was his first time in the joint and he was curious for a story.
“Because everyone knows when September ends” she said with a wink.
“Can I get your real name?” He smiled and leaned in a little
She took a slow sip of her lemon soda, letting the pause do the work “It is August”
The guy blinked “Wait.. really?”
She shrugged, like it was not worth clarifying “Depends on the season”
She stepped back onto the stage as her song came on, catching the light just right. She moved like she belonged somewhere else, somewhere bigger, somewhere with better lightning and floors that did not stick. Somewhere that did not smell like beer and noise.
From the crowd, the regulars watched as they always did. The sci-fi guy sat in his usual corner, he had just come back from a movie and was waiting to talk to her about it. The poker guys were laughing by the bar, still convinced of her powers. She noticed someone new in the crowd, watching like they have just discovered her.
She smiled, not the stage smile, not the practiced smile but something personal.
Like she had just delivered the punchline of a private joke.
August.. September.. October.. who cares, the show has to go on.
Discover more from Ocean Nib
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.