Page 80 of Thirst

The crowd cheers and applauds as I wipe tears off my face. My entire world is blurry as I make my way to the front to stand next to my most expensive piece, and I'm overcome with joy when I finally reach my destination. They all cheer for me and shout congratulations while I cry. Nae and Majesty yell like we’re at a pep rally, and Amari stands next to the back door, keeping his profile low, but the pride in his smile is as obvious as his painting on the wall.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” I say through a slew of tears and ragged breaths. “I didn't know what to expect tonight, but I never could've expected this. Every piece sold, and I'm so grateful for you all. You've changed my life. I couldn't possibly thank you enough.”

I stand next to the feature piece as people take pictures, and I even see a professional camera snapping shots of me. Janae and Majesty approach me at the same time, both of them hugging me like proud parents, and I take the opportunity to introduce them to each other before they both leave. The people who bought art get with Stanley, who begins pulling their purchased pieces off the wall and wrapping them in plastic. Amari, Shawn, and I all move to the back room while the zombie finishes off his work for me. Once we’re alone, Amari closes the door and I immediately run into his arms.

“Thank you so much for everything,” I say as tears start to flow again. “This was unbelievable.”

“Don't thank me,” he says. “You did this. Your talent made all of this happen, and tonight was how it should've been the first time. But it all worked out. Shawn, did you get the final figure?”

“I did,” Shawn says in his usual black suit. With my head on Amari’s chest, I watch him pull out a white piece of paper from his pocket. “$45,350. All profits to the artist. Venue expenses paid out of the pocket of the host, Stanley Moore. Congrats, Aaliyah.”

All I can do is cry as the dollar amount replays in my head like my favorite memory. I made more money tonight than some people make in a year, and it was all from my art. It's not life-changing money, but it's enough to let me know that this is what I should be doing full-time. If this is the bottom, I can only imagine the potential of what I could make at the top of this game.

“You did it, baby girl,” Amari says, squeezing me tighter. “And this was only your first one. Next time, you can charge more because your name is gonna be out there. Did you see the girl with the big camera? She works for the Philadelphia Inquirer, and she's doing a small piece on you. Your next exhibit will be even bigger, and I guarantee you make six figures with that one. You can bet on it.”

I shake my head, feeling my tears soak into Amari’s chest as I cry without being able to stop it. I'm absolutely over the moon right now.

“You did it,” Amari says again as he takes a step back but keeps my hands in his. “You're a real artist now. It’s official. You have art out in the world that has been bought and paid for. Your creations will hang in people’s houses. You're legit, and now people know it. You don't ever have to step foot in Fantasies ever again if you don't want to. From now on, you can do what you wanna do.”

I latch onto every one of Amari’s words, and my happiness is suddenly watered down by the fact that I'm supposed to go back to work at Fantasies tomorrow night. Von was already giving me and Majesty shit for not showing up tonight, so I know he's going to expect us to be there tomorrow. After all that I accomplished tonight, I'm expected to be back on the pole and grinding in people’s laps twenty-four hours from now. Von will hold out his hand after every dance, waiting for me to pay him for my work after I’ve been breathed on and groped by strangers. I’ll give him half of what I earn, and he’ll still treat me like shit while his girlfriend hates from the corner of whatever room we're in. There's no way I can go back to that. Not after earning what I just did. No, that has to end now.

“I know what I wanna do,” I say, as my thoughts converge together to form a conclusion. I look up at Amari and speak with more conviction than I've ever felt. “I never wanna work there ever again. I wanna quit Fantasies. Tonight.”

Forty-Eight

Amari has Shawn park the car in a lot adjacent to the Fantasies lot. I sit in the back seat with Amari with my eyes glued to the club's front door as it empties. It’s past closing, and the only people left inside are Von and the girls who are shutting it down. I take my time and let the club drain, because it’s taking just as long for my nerves to wear off. I'm anxious as hell, even though I'm full of pride. I know that what’s about to happen is something I've been wanting for years, but going through with it isn't as easy as it sounds. Not when you have to face Davon and probably Shay. Alone, Von is the worst, but with Shay by his side, who knows how messy things could get.

I don't want this to dilute tonight’s successes. I just sold every piece of art in my exhibit, and I did it with my man at my side and my friends in attendance. I'm feeling high as a kite, and the last thing pulling me down like crabs in a barrel is this club. I thought to just call Von and tell him I quit, but I wanted to do it face-to-face. I wanted him to see me win right in front of him, because that’s what he deserves. He should watch me walk out after everything he has put me through. He should have to witness my ascendence, knowing that after everything he took from me, he can't take this. That's why I'm here tonight. To win.

Twenty minutes after the last girls walk out, the only car left in the lot is Von’s Lexus. Based on experience, I know he's in there counting his money and probably laughing at the fact that he's able to make so much while doing so little. He has taken half of every girls’ earnings, and he thinks himself some sort of evil genius. That's exactly why I have to do this in person tonight, and the time has come.

“So, what’s the plan?” Amari asks. “You want me in there with you, just in case he tries anything? I've seen his thoughts, and I know he can't be trusted.”

“That’s for sure,” I reply with an exhale. “But no, I want to do this by myself. Just wait here and I’ll be right back. If it takes abnormally long or something, then definitely come check on me. But I should be fine.”

“You're sure?”

“Yeah,” I answer, nodding my head as the nerves hit me full force. “Okay. Be right back.”

I can see Amari is tense when I open my door, probably brought on by whatever he has seen when reading Von’s mind, but I still don't invite him in. I get out on my own and shut the door, releasing a loud exhale as I start my journey across the lot. When I reach the entrance, I know that this will be the last time I walk into this club. When I come out, it’ll also be for the last time, and I hang onto that feeling when I put my hand on the knob and turn.

Just like I knew he would be, Von is sitting at the bar with a few large stacks of cash in front of him. He's doing his favorite Suge Knight impression once again, rocking red-on-red with a thick, unlit cigar tucked between his lips, and a full glass of brown liquor next to the money. Instead of counting the cash, he's got both arms wrapped around Shay as she sits in his lap still wearing her outfit from work, a black and gray panty set with a white shawl over her shoulders. The two of them are cozy as hell, hugging like lovers while Shay puffs on a blunt. When they see me walk in, their romantic daze is broken up. Four eyes turn my way, and none of them look happy to see me.

“Von, we need to talk,” I say, hoping to get it done quickly.

Shay smiles wide for reasons unknown, but Von does not. His gaze is sharp and piercing as he pulls the cigar from his lips and holds it between his fingers.

“Aaliyah,” he says, dragging my name out. “I'm glad you're here, because you're right, we definitely need to talk.”

Shay giggles to herself, and the sound makes me want to start choking her, but I don't plan to stick around long enough for that.

“I don't wanna drag this out,” I say. “I know I've been here for four years, but I had my exhibit tonight, and it was a big success. More successful than I ever thought it could be. I sold every piece and made enough money to change everything about what I'm doing. I made it, and I no longer need to subject myself to having to work here, especially with you as my boss. You've been stealing from me for years, and that’s over now. You’ll be able to keep taking from the other girls, but not from me. I'm done. I quit. I just wanted to say it to your face.”

I take a moment to let it sink in—to give him enough time to understand what I just said—and I expect to walk out without another word from him. But things don't always go according to plan. As I start to turn around, his voice booms.

“How are you gonna try to leave when you owe me so much money?”

I whirl back around, my face riddled with confusion and annoyance at his audacity.