"Round of applause, baby make that ass clap
Drop it to the floor, make that ass clap
let me see you, bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it
Baby drop it to the floor and
Bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it, bu-bust it, bust it
Drop it down and just..."

__

You're working again tonight?

Yessss:(
I get off at two though!

lol seriously, Asmaa?
Can I see you tomorrow then?

As much as Asmaa enjoyed working at Phoenix, she only started doubting her new job when it came to one thing.

Zayn.

It had been almost three weeks since she became a bottle girl, and in this span of time she'd told him that she was a waitress when he had asked. Because, that was like, partly the truth, right? Anyway, all she knew was that the truth kept getting stretched, because she'd had to make something up when he'd asked which restaurants in London were even open that late, and she'd had to keep making shit up when he'd asked if he could come by and see her on the job sometime.

Wanna do breakfast tomorrow?

Zayn was really too cute.

She didn't want to admit it, but sometimes she flipped through the pictures they had taken on their date just because she could feel all over again how it had felt when he kissed her.

And Asmaa really liked him. She couldn't help it. He was sweet and funny and so good-looking she almost didn't know what to do with herself. She knew that if Ayat or her mother saw him, they'd be pushing her to marry this man.

And he liked her.

And he wanted to be something amazing. She was attracted to his drive and his good looks and his charm and his sweet heart. It was almost too good to be true. Zayn was almost too good to be true.

Until it came to Phoenix.

"Texting your man again?"

Asmaa grins as she sits in the dressing room with all of the other girls changing for the night. She's on the couch, clad in her street clothes, about to change when she reads through her texts from Zayn and realizes she's got to text him back.

Hell yeah he could see her tomorrow.

Tomorrow was Sunday. Sunday, Asmaa didn't work.

Breakfast sounds good
You can come to mine :)

"Maybe," she replies cheekily, garnering a snort from Rory, who's sat beside her on the couch. "Maybe not."

Mouse laughs aloud. "That's a yes, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, " Asmaa replies, as Mouse lets out a giant laugh. "It's a yes."

"Oh, god," the girl shakes her head, "I fucking love you, Asmaa."

And once she's out of earshot, Rory lifts a brow. "Mouse knows about Zayn?"

Asmaa nods. "Why?"

"No reason," Rory only shrugs. "I'm just insanely jealous, that's all."

And Asmaa doesn't know if she wants to laugh or what.

She chokes, instead. "What?"

Rory stares at her nails. "Yep."

"But..." She sputters. "But, why?"

"'Cause our baby's got other friends," pipes Desi, as she enters the conversation, turning around from her vanity, "That's why."

"Also," she adds, "Rory's obsessed with you."

"I'd risk it all for you, Asmaa."

"And you think she's playing," Desirée deadpans, "but she's not."

"No one thinks she's playing," pipes Kezie, looking up from her own phone (and probably her man again but Asmaa wasn't going to ask). She giggles, "At least, I don't."

"What?" Rory pouts. "It's like we don't get to see our baby anymore."

"You see me!" Asmaa exclaims. "We live together, Rory!"

"Yeah, but here?" She replies. "You're working the tables and I'm--"

"On the pole," Desirée finishes.

Rory jerks a thumb in her direction. "What she said," and she shrugs, "We were like, a foursome, girls. And now we're like, three plus one."

And while all of the women working at Phoenix were friends, and the girls really were tight-knit, it was easy to see why strippers were closest with strippers, because they worked most closely together. The same went for the bartenders. The same went for the bottle girls.

And Asmaa had realized that she was kind of growing closer to the bottle girls because she was a bottle girl.

Ha--A few weeks ago, if someone told Asmaa she'd be working at a strip club, she'd have laughed.

Now? Not so much.

Asmaa is a bottle girl at Phoenix, now.

All because her best friends were strippers.

"I..." Asmaa pauses, because that actually does make her feel terrible. She was at Phoenix because of Kezie, Rory, and Desi. "I'm sorr--"

"Don't apologize," Desirée rolls her eyes. "That's just Rory being a dramatic fuck again."

"Yeah," grins Kezie. "Let Asmaa make friends."

"Honestly," Desi scoffs. "You're a bottle girl," she says. "And it's working for you, right?"

Asmaa nods, but she's still been affected by Rory's words. Would she grow apart from her besties? Was Rory afraid of that happening?

Desi didn't seem to think so.

"Good," she says, "then you're a bottle girl."

But, not for long.

Three and a half weeks into her new job, Asmaa's world spins off its axis.

Why?

Because Asmaa was a natural.

A natural twerker.

She knew she could dance; she always could. But, she could also roll her hips and she could shake her ass and when her friends found that out, they were almost like proud mothers.

"Girl, go shake that ass for some cash!"

It's a Thursday night and they've just finished at Phoenix and they're all a bit tipsy from their night. It's like, three AM--so, it's Friday, now--and Asmaa knows she'll be dead on her feet today but they're all over at local club and she's playing music and they're sipping on wine because for some reason they're all still wired.

Maybe it was because of all the money they'd made that night. Maybe it was because Madonna had thrown a giant concert on her world tour and her dancers had come celebrating in Phoenix. Maybe it was because notes were slipped into Asmaa's bodysuit all night, and while she was still uncomfortable with all the touching, she was pleased to see twenties and fifties and hundreds getting slipped against her skin.

Because, wow.

The amount of cash that rolled through Phoenix was really amazing. And Asmaa was really learning the ropes.

She pulled in a lot of tips; more than she thought she could. Why?

Because Asmaa was friendly.

She was the natural sweetheart. It was how Mouse and Jussy and the rest of the bottle girls had dubbed her, "Sweet Tart," because she was pretty with a big smile and kind eyes and to any man with even a little bit of alcohol in his system, she was the go-to to talk. And one thing Asmaa realized, was how lonely so many of the men (and women) were who frequented the club. The best strippers and the best bottle girls and the best bartenders were the ones who were friendliest and could create the best experience for customers.

Like in any industry, the best make the most money.

And Asmaa was quickly becoming the best.

She could coerce anyone into practically anything.

And for every bottle she sold, Mouse had come up with a system. They teased her for all her good grades and good manners.

"For every bottle you sell, we ought to give Asmaa a gold star."

It was a joke, but one day in the dressing room, Justine brought two tiny gold stickers and stuck them against the outside of her eyes.

"Gold stars for the sweetheart, Sweet Tart."

And that night, literally, Asmaa pulled more tips than she ever thought she could. She walked out of Phoenix with nearly £3,500. That money was like her own gold star system. It was better than any high mark on a test or a debate. Financial security was the best reward she could give herself.

And now, she's celebrating with the girls at a nearby club. She's drunk. It's a Friday night. The club's about to close. And Nicki Minaj's 'Trini Dem Girls' just came on in the club and Asmaa backs it up against Kezie and starts to twerk.

Kezie goes crazy.

Desi starts recording this on snapchat.

Rory almost starts crying--she might actually, she's drunk as hell--as she claps her hands, "Look at our baby!"

"The twerk goddess!"

And a fun night rolls into Saturday morning.

Saturday morning rolls into Saturday night.

And that night at 8:45, Asmaa starts to change for the (last) night of her service as 'Sweet Tart' the bottle girl.

It happens like this:

At midnight, when Asmaa takes her break, she finds out two things:

1. Tati, one of the strippers, was going home sick.
2. She was working a bachelor party with Rory, and someone needed to take her place.

"What happened to Tati?" She asks, reaching for a snack. She was hungry as fuck and kind of hungover. "Shit," she grabs her head. "I'm still burping Hennessy from last night."

"She's sick," laughs Kezie. "Probably hungover, too."

"Sweet Tart," grins Jussy, and she reaches into her bag and pulls out a flask, "drink this. You'll feel better."

And she tosses it across the room.

"Uh..." Asmaa peers into the flask, smelling the very pungent smell of vodka. "You sure this'll make me feel better?"

Rory hums--she's just got on break, too. "The best cure for a hangover is more alcohol."

Desi nods. "It's science."

"It's not," Kezie laughs, "but just go with it, ma."

"Okay, okay, okay," she laughs, and Asmaa downs a large gulp. The vodka burns, immediately warming her body. "Brown liquor tastes so much better."

"Also why it's more calories," nods Kez. She nods towards the flask, "Drink more."

And Asmaa does.

She continues to drink from the flask, which Jussy is passing around, now, as the girls hype themselves up for their next shifts and listen to the music blaring from the deejay booth beside the bar.

And as their free time winds down, they hear Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" come on and everyone turns up.

Even Asmaa.

"Look what Asmaa learned!"

And this is how it happens: literally, she's clapping her ass in the dressing rooms when, all of a sudden, Justin walks right on in.

"I need a replacement, girls--Holy fuck! Asmaa! Perfect! Next shift, get with Rory to stage two!"

"Wait!" She gasps. "What!?"

"You heard me! You've done this before, anyway. Get that ass out there in five!"

And when the door closes behind him, Asmaa turns to Rory and Kezie and freaks the fuck out.

"What the hell!!?"

"Oh my god, it's happening!"

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit! What do I do?"

"Okay, okay!" Rory jumps up, placing her hands on her shoulders, "Breathe, Asmaa! Deep breaths..."

Asmaa is breathing like she's in Lamaze.

The lie that she and Desi told to get her this job; the lie about her being a former stripper; had caught the fuck up to her fat ass.

Asmaa is still breathing like she's in Lamaze.

"Uh..." Kezie wrinkles her nose, "Not like that, Asmaa--"

"Oh, fuck! I forgot how to breathe! I can't even breathe right, guys!"

And like that, Desirée comes into the dressing room. She had started taking her break around the same time as Asmaa.

And she sees her having a slight heart attack.

"What the fuck's going on in here?"

"I'm..." Asmaa gulps, "Justin thinks I'm a stripper..."

"Wait," Desi frowns, confused. "What?"

"Asmaa's about to strip for the first time."

"What?" Now, she blinks. "What?? No! You're a bottle girl!"

"Exactly!"

Asmaa was a bottle girl. She didn't strip.

"Tati's sick," Rory shakes her head. "And Justin's seen her twerking so she's gotta come with me to Two."

"Oh, fuck..."

Asmaa is hyperventilating. "Exactly!"

"You'll be fine, Asmaa!" Calls one girl, Minnie. "I swear, it'll be okay."

"Already, you're ahead of the game," adds Irene. "You know how to twerk."

"Put some oil on and it'll be easier to work the pole," says Maria.

"But, also," pipes Suzy, "don't just walk around the pole, get down and twerk some."

"Take a shot before you get out there!"

"Feel the music. Dance, but...like, sexy..."

"Don't forget that shot!"

"Or two!"

"Oh my goodness, I can't do this!"

"Look," all of a sudden, her cheeks are between Desirée's fingertips, "you've been a bottle girl for the past few weeks, right?"

Asmaa nods, lips puckered. "Hmm."

"You've seen us all out there, right? Just do what you've seen us do."

"But," Asmaa whines, "I'm not that strong..."

"You don't have to climb the pole--"

"Or hang from the overhead beams--"

"Or swing from the--"

"Guys!" Asmaa is about to have a heart attack or a panic attack; either one might kill her. "I'm just gonna..." She gulps, "I'm just gonna--"

"You're gonna follow my lead," Rory says. "All of that dancing you did last night, you're gonna do it on the stage."

"But, it's in front of people--"

"You were in front of people then, too," Rory says, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You were just drunk as hell and didn't care, and can't remember."

And Jussy nods, pushing the flask back into her hands. "Seriously," she says, "you're gonna wanna just," and she motions like she's taking a shot, "down that shit. It's yours, boo."

Rory nods. And the girls are all gathered around her, because she's got to change into one of the different costumes...with easier removal.

And everyone is really so supportive; they're trying to make her heart rate go down, but that shit was about to beat out of her chest.

Mouse squeezes her shoulder. "For every bill they throw, gold star for Asmaa."

Rory claps her hands. "That's such a good idea! Get out there and shake that ass for some gold stars and some cash!"

And that makes Asmaa laugh, and it makes her fall a little harder for these girls, and that makes her kind of calm down for a second as Rory whispers in her ear, "How glad are you I forced you to get waxed?"

Asmaa couldn't even lie.

She was glad as shit.

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i love some asmaa guys she's so cute and fun to write.

p.s. her and zayn are my favorite