My heroin was gone. I used the last of it to tie me over while I grieved my losses. Withdrawal symptoms came and went just like they always did. Bon called the other day saying he and the band had to drop by the London studio to record the next album and they'd be busy for a few weeks. 

I'd miss them but it was fine by me. I had to go to work myself.

The girls at the club couldn't believe I knew Bon Scott from AC/DC. Jeanie would make a speedy exit whenever she saw me coming, probably remembering her collapse while trying to meet the band. I felt kind of bad in a way. Imagine you're about to meet your idol and you drop dead at their feet. 

"Can you get free tickets to their concerts?"

"Fuck the concerts, we want backstage passes!"

"You've slept with one of them, tell me you've slept with one of them!"

I assured the group there was no way in hell I slept with any of them. They were my friends, and that was it. "I'd feel silly if I asked for free tickets," I admitted. "For myself and for all of you."

"Don't those men want all of us dancers at their shows?" Betty said. "To think we could be rubbing elbows with high society."

"I'd hardly call some sleazy rock and roll band 'high society'," Celine said, amused at our longing. "You want high society you should summon Joan of Arc."

"But they're not sleazy, Celine," Betty said. "They're only the most talented group of men we've ever heard." 

"And Esther here knows them," Henriette said. She still wasn't into the band like the rest of us but she supported our fantasies all the same. 

"Those talented men sure have a way of causing trouble in my club," Celine said, eyeing me with a playful smile. I looked sheepishly at my heels. "But I'm glad Loulou has such good friends."

"Lucky bitch," Betty mumbled.

"Jealous fiend," I retorted. Betty flipped me off and I laughed. The band were certainly my friends but these girls at the club were pretty good too. Despite all the friends I made in my years at school, I never felt as close to them as I did to my colleagues. We could joke around and make each other laugh. I never laughed with my old friends. We robbed people blind and sat around high. I didn't mind being high but it didn't compare to being with loved ones. 

It sure dulled the pain, though. 

And Bon was a great man. He always knew what to say to make me smile, even on my bad days. He respected my wish to stay friends and he didn't threaten to leave or even hit me. Of course that should be the bare minimum but it meant a lot to me, given my history. For the first time in ages...I had a real friend...

Many of them.

**********

I stared at myself in the mirror in the locker room as I applied a coat of makeup. For a second I thought I imagined it but it was still there when I looked again. Under my eyes were the nastiest looking circles I'd ever seen on a human being. I knew my sleep schedule was out of wack at times but it couldn't have gotten this bad. I delicately applied some extra makeup under my eyes to cover them up. It wouldn't do to have the clients see me like that. 

Let alone Jeanie.

Speaking of the devil Jeanie came marching in after her dance onstage. She was sweaty and holding a decent lump of cash. Hurrying by me she grabbed a chair, scraping it against the floor, and plopped down, her hair bouncing behind her. "Oh, you're here," she muttered, finally noticing me. I watched as she grabbed her palette, the newest one available in stores right now of course, and started bushing up. "Don't think I sat here to enjoy the pleasure of your company," she spat, literally spat. I closed my eyes so she wouldn't melt them with her projectile venom. "I'm just here to touch up some things and get right back out there."

"You know, the rest of us hardly get any spots because of you," I said. "We'd like to make some money too."

"Then get here on time," she said. "I'm not slowing down for any of you. You want more spots to dance? Get here when I do." She took one glance at me and saw my dark eyes. "What happened to you? On drugs or something?"

"Of course not," I answered quickly. She raised an eyebrow and I continued with my brushing. "Just haven't been sleeping very well is all."

"Listen, I know you're from New York and all," she said with an air of worldliness. "But even those living in NYC don't have bags like that." I put down my brush while my nostrils flared. "So tell me, sweetie, is it drugs? Crack? Cocaine? Meth?"

I hated when people my own fucking age called me 'sweetie'. I took a very deep breath and picked up my brush again. "Why, did you want some?"

She scoffed. "As if, Rocky Raccoon," she said. "Drugs are horrible for your skin and teeth and they kill thousands of people every year. Believe me, only criminals take them."

"That's not true," I said. "Plenty of good, decent people take them, and for plenty of different reasons." I wouldn't let her talk about me like that. Or Bon. "You have no idea what someone might be going through."

"What could you possibly be going through?" she asked. "You've been off making friends with famous people left and right and the whole club is jealous of you. You need drugs for that?" I sighed and clenched my fists. "Or maybe...." Jeanie smirked. "The band hooked you up, didn't they?"

"What?" I asked, turning to face her. She kept her attention on the mirror in front of her. "They did no such thing!"

"Well, let's think about it," she said. "Before you met the band, you've been your average self. Since you met the band, you have bags like that and a track on the inside of your arm?" I blanched and slowly looked down at my arm. There, right below my elbow, was a tiny mark. The mark of a heroin user. I held my arm away from Jeanie. "I think we both know what's going on here."

I wasn't letting her trash my friends like that. What they did was their business and what I did was mine. They weren't to blame for my actions. "It's probably just a bug bite."

"It's barely March!" she said, not buying a word. "What fucking bugs are out here this time of year?"

While Jeanie wasn't looking I discreetly covered the spot on my arm with makeup. I wouldn't let anyone see it. "I bet if you met the band, you'd do everything they did," I said. "Whether that was drinking or drugs, you'd follow them like a little sheep."

"As if," she said. "I said I'd sleep with that singer if I could or the bass player. If any of them do drugs they're just as disgusting as you."

That fucking did it. 

I couldn't take it anymore. Those men were better friends to me than Jeanie Patterman ever was, no matter how long we knew each other. They were good men and I wouldn't let her talk that way about them. Jeanie had the nastiest personality of anyone I had ever met and no amount of makeup could cover that up. It was time someone around here taught her a lesson.

And that someone would be me. 

In a flash I stood from my chair and grabbed her out of hers. She squealed as I threw her down on the floor of the locker room and started unleashing every ounce of anger that had built up for three years. She tried throwing me off and as I was hardly more than a pile of bones she got pretty close. But I managed to hold steady and grabbed a good amount of that hellish red hair. She screamed when I aimed my fist at her face and that's when I heard footsteps.

"ESTHER!" Several hands grabbed me at once and tried pulling me off. Jeanie covered her face with her hands and I could see her newly applied makeup already running from sweat and tears. I was sure mine was as well. "Esther, get off her!"

"You bitch!" I yelled, desperately clawing at her hands and arms. I could hear Celine's voice yelling in the distance but I couldn't be bothered to listen. More hands grabbed me around the waist and hauled me off. I kicked and lunged and I could faintly see my friends' faces through all the red. 

"What is going on?" Celine barked as she took in the scene. Jeanie lay on the floor on her side, curled up. Her arms were over her face and one of her high heels had cracked. Barbara and Margot helped her to a sitting position. Henriette and Layla kept me from attacking again. "Someone answer me!"

"We heard screaming and we ran here to see," Henriette explained. For being so small she had an iron grip on me. "Esther was hurting Jeanie."

"Is that true, Esther?" Celine asked, her voice stern and angry. I had just broken one of the most important rules of the club. I got in a fight. If Jeanie hadn't been in my line of sight I would have regretted it more. "Esther, is that true?"

I sighed. "Yes," I muttered. "But the rotten bitch deserved it!"

Jeanie finally uncovered her face as Margot helped her stand up. Her face was soaked with tears and a false eyelash was hanging on by a thread. Mascara oozed down her cheeks like black rivers. I wondered if the red smudge on her face was lipstick or blood. 

"Esther Marino, you know the rules," Celine said. "I do not allow my girls to fight in my club."

"But she-"

"Esther," Celine snapped. I shut up. The red in my vision was slowly fading away. The other girls came in more clearly. Henriette and Layla both looked scared but unwilling to let go. The others....none of us liked Jeanie much but what I did to her was probably uncalled for. 

And likely to get me fired. 

I couldn't cry now, not fucking now. I wasn't leaving this place with a pathetic, tear stained face. I was going out with my chin up. I could bawl to Scout when I got home. 

"Esther, I know you've had some issues controlling your anger in the past," Celine said. She grabbed a box of tissues from the table and handed them to Jeanie, who took one with a shaking hand. "Margot, please escort Jeanie to my desk. There should be a card pinned to the board on the wall for a doctor."

"Yes, ma'am." Margot helped Jeanie through the crowd of girls and as soon as she was out of sight, the reality hit me in the face. 

"Celine," I croaked. "It will never happen again, I swear." Henriette and Layla let me go. "Jeanie got me so angry and I wanted to shut her up-"

"You could have seriously hurt her, do you understand?" Celine asked. "Jeanie's lucky everyone came running to help before things got too bad. I cannot allow this kind of behavior off without a punishment." Hot tears pooled. 

"Please...."

Celine sighed. "I'm not firing you, Esther," she said. A huge weight lifted off my shoulders. "Not yet," she continued. "As of right now you are hereby banned from my club for one month."

"A month?" I asked.

"You are not allowed inside the building until April third, is that clear? If you try sneaking in I'll have no choice but to terminate you and if you refuse to leave the premises I'll have to call the police." Celine's voice cracked as she recited to me her rules. "By April you may come back to work here full time with a formal apology to me and to Jeanie. Understand?"

I barely nodded my head.

"I'm sorry, Loulou," she said. "That's my final word."

Celine left the locker room to check on Jeanie. The other girls watched me as I just stood there. A whole month without work. Without money. I was due for food shopping and I had just paid a hefty rent. I'd pay another one before being allowed back at work. By letting my anger get the better of me, I had just cost me and Scout a living wage. 

What the fuck was I going to do?

**********

I needed a hit. Just a quick hit of heroin so I could relax and figure out what to do. I tore through the box I kept my things in and swore when I remembered I used the last of it. Throwing the box to the floor, I screamed and Scout ran under my bed, tail tucked between his legs. I collapsed to the floor and finally let the tears run down my face. I held a quavering hand under the bed for Scout to sniff so he knew I wouldn't hurt him. He had climbed into the lining where my money box was. Scout's wet nose touched my fingers and he slowly inched his way out to see me. 

"I'm sorry, my boy," I sobbed, petting him behind the ears. I could hear his tail flopping around. "I'm such an idiot."

I curled up, hiding my face in my knees. Scout licked my hands and whined. 

I had to find a dealer.