"They let me in, here I go
Don't mess with the snow, all my bitches on go
She up on the ceiling, slide down to the floor
And just 'cause she dance, that don't make her a ho."

___

Asmaa was still unconvinced.

About this whole situation.

This situation with Zayn.

Because, what if he only wanted to cook for her because she was a stripper? What if he was like all those other guys Desi had been talking about? The ones who thought they were escorts? The ones who didn't understand they weren't there to feel up on and fuck?

It blurred too many lines in her mind. Before, when they were just talking in the library, they were just talking in the library. She felt more comfortable with his intentions. She felt like he really did like talking with her; like he really did think she was pretty; that he did like her for her company.

Now, what if that had changed? What if her being 'Gold Starr' was the only reason he wanted to "talk?" What if he didn't even want to talk?

She wanted to call Ayat, because her friends seemed to think Zayn was one of the good ones. And damn it, maybe he was? But also, maybe he wasn't? And Asmaa wasn't about to let herself be hurt by a guy she thought she really actually liked.

But, what sucked was that she couldn't call Ayat. She couldn't do that. She couldn't tell her sister that she had found a way to pay for this law degree in a way that would literally kill their parents.

So, that was a no-go.

And Asmaa just wants to forget about this whole thing, but there's a little problem.

Zayn.

He won't let it go.

He keeps texting her.

Hi, Asmaa. It's me, Zayn.

I know you can tell that lol you have caller id :) x

Please talk to me

Please

His persistence is almost about to make her cave.

Almost.

__

Zayn is texting at work.

Or, texting on the job, rather. He didn't exactly like to call this gig he had at the local mechanic's his work, 'cause something about calling it that made it seem permanent, and in his mind he was only doing this to pay the portion of his tuition not covered by his scholarship.

"She text you back, yet?"

Zayn looks up. It's a bit pathetic, really, that he'd gone on to vent to Liam about this.

"Not yet."

"You're sure it was her?"

"Had to be," he exclaims frustratedly, running a greasy hand through his hair. The oil stains were the worst--they never got out of clothes. "I swear, mate," he laughs aloud, bitterly, "Should've seen the way she ran from me, today. It had to have been."

Liam shrugs. "Can you blame her, though?"

Zayn laughs again. "What?"

"Like," he says, wiping his hands on the front of his stained denim trousers, "think of how she might feel, mate. You, showing up to see her...stripping...all coincidentally, mind you..."

Liam whistles. "S'gotta be a shock, y'know?"

And Zayn's nodding.

Slowly.

"Think she's embarrassed?"

"I mean," Liam chuckles, "S'not like she's an accountant, know what I mean?"

And Zayn nods, his friend's advice somehow making loads of sense.

He squints, "Told me she was a waitress."

And Liam smiles kindly. "Might sound a bit better than stripper, don't you think?"

__

"Can we talk about this? Please?"

Chikezie laughs that bubbly, easy-going laugh of hers. "Talk about what, Calum?" She purses her lips, "'Cause if you're gonna go all, 'older-brother' on me, you can spare your breath."

Calum blinks. "I'm sorry, Kezie. I didn't--"

"Know what came over you? S'that what you were gonna say? That you got drunk; you lost your head; you didn't mean to embarrass me at work?"

"Oh, c'mon," he groans, rolling his eyes. "Work? That's not a real job. You being a doctor, that's a real job, Kezie."

"And that's why we're never going to agree on this, Calum," she snaps, and it takes Calum aback because she never snapped at him. "How is this not a real job when I make more money than you do?"

He's at a loss for words. "I--"

"Right," she finishes angrily--another thing that's got him reeling because Kezie never got angry; especially not at him. "So, we're done here? Good."

And she jerks on the handle of his car door. He used to be her ride home from class all the time, but lately? She'd preferred riding with Rory and the girls.

He had to come over; to visit her at home just to see her, lately.

And here she is, sitting in his car.

And they're talking, just like they always used to do.

Like old times.

"Jesus, Calum," she mutters. "Unlock the fucking door."

But, unlike those times, Kezie is mad and it's his fault.

And things just aren't the same, or the way Calum wants them to be.

"Wait, wait," he sighs, he's not used to her being vexed with him, "A few more minutes?"

"Fine," Chikezie sighs, folding her arms across her chest.

He unlocks the door.

"But, only a few, okay?" She continues, "I have homework to do."

"You said two years, Kez. You said you'd be done stripping in two years and guess what? It's been two years. Time's up--"

"Yeah, because I got into med school, Cal. Remember?" She asks. "When it happened you were so proud of me."

He takes her hand, lacing his long fingers through hers, "I'm still proud of you," he states. "I'm always proud of you, Kezie."

"Right," she laughs, "but because I don't do what you consider a 'real job' you don't give a shit about my feelings."

"Of course I do!" He exclaims. "Kezie," he sighs again, running both hands across his face, "I don't want you to get hurt, Kez."

"It's been two years, Calum! I'm fine."

"And I know that but it still doesn't make me feel any better," he exclaims. "I mean, c'mon," he wrinkles his nose, "between the perverted things you've said people say, to the way they grab you and ask for sexual favors and shit--"

"Those people get thrown out, Cal."

"But, it still happens!"

"Calum..."

"They're not supposed to touch," he growls. "And I can't do anything to help, Kezie."

"I know," and she laughs. "But, people break the rules all the time. It doesn't make it right," she adds, "but I'm used to it, and I have to handle it professionally."

"Kez, I--"

"Do you know how expensive school is?" She turns abruptly. "Do you know how much tuition costs over here?"

"I--"

"Of course you don't," she shakes her head. "Why would you? You're not a doctor. You'll never be a doctor. You don't give a shit about books and lab coats and expenses and the other things that go into what I need to be a doctor. And since you're not going to contribute to any of that shit," she glares at him, "then leave me the fuck alone and let me do what I have to do to pay for all these books and coats and expenses and the other shit. Got it?"

And Calum is blown away by this. He has no real words with which to respond. All he can do is grit his teeth and say, "Got it."

And Kezie sighs, softening. It's been a long day.

This conversation's only made it longer.

"Look," she sighs, peering out of the window of his car, "I appreciate the concern, I do. But, sometimes," she blows hair from her eyes, "sometimes I just need your support."

And she pulls the handle, jumping from the car.

Calum drives to Zayn's.

Harry's over. 

"So...?" Harry lets him in. "How'd it go with Kezie?"

Calum deadpans. "How d'you think it went?"

Harry's crunching into an apple. "That good, eh?"

Calum groans, plopping onto the couch. "She's still mad at me," he pauses, "for what I did at Luke's."

"You told her how you feel, then?" Harry lifts his brows, sitting beside him on the couch. "About her?"

"Only told her I missed her--"

"That's not the same."

"--and that I was sorry."

Harry bites again into the apple. "Neither is that."

Calum looks up angrily. "What do you want me to say to her, Harry?"

"That you like her, maybe," Harry replies, "Or that you don't so I can date her."

"What?"

"Just tell her how you feel, Calum."

"No," he shakes his head, "No fucking way. Go back. Backtrack. You want to date Kezie?"

"I didn't say that."

"No," Calum sits up, his eyes fixed into a glare, "but, that's exactly what you just said--"

"Alright! She's hot, okay? Who wouldn't want to date her?"

"I take it you do, Haz! Hmm? One of my best friends fucking around with my other best friend--"

"Did you hear me?" Harry exclaims. "Did you not just hear me?"

"Yeah, I heard you!"

Harry rolls his eyes, "And you're somehow missing the whole point," he pinches the bridge of his nose, his deep voice articulating slower than normal as he tries to get across his point, "Kezie is a catch--"

"I know, I know--"

"So get your shit together before someone else does," he purses his lips. "Got it?"

And Calum sighs, his head in his hands. "Yeah," he groans. "I got it."

"I'm going back," Luke announces, suddenly emerging from the kitchen. "I'm going back on Thursday."

"To what?" Harry asks, calling from the couch with Calum.

Luke's come over today too, apparently.

"Phoenix," Luke replies, plopping onto the love seat across from them. He's positively beaming. "I'm going back to the strip club."

"Ah," Harry grins, sticking his apple at him, "You enjoy your birthday, yeah?"

"Fuck yes," Luke replies. "Best birthday ever."

"Well," Harry grins, "if you must know, it was all my idea."

"Seriously?" He reaches forward, slapping Harry five. "Fuck yeah, mate," and then he eyes Calum, "How's Kezie?"

"Pissed."

"Oh..."

"Anyway," Harry continues, turning back to Luke, "why're you going back?"

Calum rubs his fists over his eyes. "You're not still pissed about that, are you mate? Like, I'm really sorry I fucked up your lap dance."

"Hey," Luke shrugs, "I saw that dude grab Kez. I know how weird you are," he starts laughing--Harry's the only one who joins in. "S'not that big of a deal."

And Luke's smile grows. "'Cause remember the girl you bought me the time with? Ms. Sangria?"

"Tia Sangria, the resident Leo..."

"Her," Luke laughs. "Well," he begins, "I've been thinking about that night, and...And that's why I'm going back. To get my dance."

Calum sits up. "And Ill pay for it," he announces, "S'like my gift back to you."

"Sweet," Luke nods, honestly realizing that this day was working out better than he'd even thought. "Thanks, mate."

"S'the least I can do."

"That," Harry stretches out his legs, propping his boots upon the coffee table, "much is true."

"I think she likes me," Luke grins as Calum snatches the apple out of Harry's hands and chucks it across the room.

"Fetch."

Luke ignores this. "I think I've got a shot with her."

"I mean..." And Harry would love to be excited with his best mate--or mad at the other--he would, but the practical, older, more experienced part of him is concerned, slightly. "Are you sure about that, mate?"

Luke nods excitedly. "She's amazing, Harry," he sighs. "Like, smart and funny and so fucking hot..."

"But, how do you know she likes you?" Harry stresses. He's seen this before. He's seen one of his best friends give everything up for one of these women. "How do you know she's not just--"

"Easy," Luke laughs, "'Cause she doesn't like anyone but she was nice to me."

And Harry is quick to reply but doesn't have the opportunity. "But, you know that's the point of a strip club--?"

Calum looks up, "Hey, Z..."

Zayn's home.

He's on his phone, staring at it as he gives his friends a quick glance and goes back to the device.

"Hey," he mutters.

Harry frowns, throwing his arm over the back of the couch, "Everything alright, mate?"

"Fine."

"Doesn't sound like it--?"

"Zayn, guess what?"

Zayn pauses on is way to the kitchen. He's got to shower off grease and the smell of motor oil and he's got a shit ton of homework to do but his mind is not anywhere near the research he has to do for the essays he has to write--his mind is on the girl who'd been ignoring him all day.

"What is it, Luke?"

"I'm going back to Phoenix," he says, tapping his long fingers excitedly upon the couch cushions. "I'm going."

Zayn frowns, eyes flickering quickly to Calum, "Again?"

Luke nods. "I want another private dance."

"More like a first," Calum sighs tiredly, "'cause he didn't get it the first time."

And Zayn pauses. He checks his cell, again. Although he didn't expect Asmaa to text him back, a piece of him remained hopeful that she would.

Zayn hadn't felt like this about anyone else before.

Damn it, he liked her. He liked Asmaa. He did. And a part of him felt like it'd be really foolish to let her go. A part of him wasn't ready to give up on what they were--what they could be.

That was the thing about talking to Liam--he was such a dad; so sagacious with his knowledge and advice. It's why he came to him. It's why they'd hit it off so well at the garage.

Liam and Harry were just those friends for Zayn. They were just those lads. He had friends for different things, but those two had always come with the best advice.

Liam offered it at work--on the job--and Harry offered it...well...all those other times.

He used to be able to say the same about Lou--

And that's when it hits him.

"Brilliant!" Zayn exclaims. "Luke!" He grins, "That's brilliant, mate!"

"Wait, wait," Harry sits up, trailing him into the kitchen, "You think that's a good idea, too?"

Zayn hums, frowning at the apple core on his floor but realizing that he was too tired to deal with why it was there. "And I'm coming."

"You're coming?"

"You're going?"

"Hell yeah," Zayn nods, and he searches for the club's Instagram page, finding it easily. It's been updated a lot since Ms. Sangria's "Leo Season" flyer, and despite the party taking place over the weekend, there were eight or nine new pictures up.

But, Zayn was looking for someone.

He was looking for Asmaa.

Because, a part of him wasn't ready to give up on getting to know her. He, admittedly, kind of liked her.

A lot.

She had to have been embarrassed.

She had to be. That was the only explanation for her completely bolting from the coffee shop this morning, or trying to avoid him after lectures. It was the only logical explanation.

Or so he told himself.

He was looking for some type of reassurance. Mainly, because he really thought he'd hit it off with this girl, and he wanted to keep seeing her.

But, she couldn't ignore him if he made it about business. She couldn't ignore him if she was getting paid to see him.

Zayn was gonna be like Luke.

Zayn was gonna buy a private dance.

And like that, he finds her. There's a picture of her, dropped low beside one of the poles from a night previous, with bills flying around her, captioned: Meet our newest Phoenix babe, Gold Starr.

Gold Starr.

Zayn saw her in the club and almost passed the fuck out.

She looked the same, but so completely different, not only naked, but without her hijab. With her long dark hair splayed across her oiled body, and with her ass shaking in his face, it was really enough for him to keep throwing money and enough to think he might have fallen in love.

And she'd tossed that wink at him and he realized at once.

Asmaa .

But, just like at the shop that morning, she'd gotten up and left. At first, he wondered if she even realized it was him. She probably saw countless men all night. Men who probably blended together after the course of a few dances.

But, then today happened. She had to have realized. She had to have known. Liam was right; she had to have left because she felt uncomfortable.

And Zayn didn't care. He didn't care what she did or didn't do, as long as she was happy; as long as it wasn't hurting anyone. And as far as he could tell, he was eager to see her bring her work back over to his house. He wanted her to stick that ass in the air on his bed.

But, like...dinner, first.

Because honestly, the girl he'd met and kept running into was like, the regular version of the one he'd seen that night. 'Gold Starr' was her alter-ego, or something. She was the sexier version of Asmaa, who laughed at his terrible jokes and sang Nicki Minaj in the library and wanted to fight for women's rights around the world.

It almost made him laugh, to think this was the same person.

Zayn was going to buy a dance with Gold Starr.

Harry's followed him into the empty kitchen.

"What're you smiling about?"

He jumps, realizing that he'd been grinning at his phone, at the picture of her, up on Instagram.

"Remember the girl I told you about? The one from--"

"Ah," Harry nods, tossing that apple into the trash. "The cute one; the lawyer."

"Her," replies Zayn. "Well," and he holds out his phone, "this is her."

And Harry's eyes literally fall from his head. "What?" He exclaims. "No way!" He squints, "You're sure...?"

"Positive, mate."

"Well, she's..." Harry whistles lowly, eyes still glued to the IG post, "She's a fucking--"

"Okay, okay," Zayn snatches his phone back. "I get it."

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. "Jesus Christ. What's with all of you..."

And he sighs.

"Well, if you're both going back to Phoenix," a slow grin stretches across his face, "Naturally, I have to come."

__

ready to go back to phoenix?

i'm probably gonna end up finishing this story before the other ones 'cause i love it so much