Kinda nervous about this, it's my first all human fanfic. And it will be Stelena/Delena. I hope you all enjoy. Be sure to leave me a review on if I should scrap it or not!
You're on your knees,
Begging please, 'stay with me'.
I just need to be a little crazy.
What the Hell by Avril Lavigne
"You're on in ten, Crystal!" A voice called from behind the dressing rooms.
Elena Gilbert smiled at her moniker. Sure, Crystal was a typical stripper name, but Glitter was even worse. She stood in front of her mirror fixing her lipstick absentmindedly as she tugged her bustier down a little lower.
Gotta show the goods and make that money, she thought.
She hiked up her knee high stiletto boots and laced them accordingly. Her outfit was slightly modest for a place like this. Her blood red bustier and black micro skirt contrasted beautifully with her olive skin. And the shoes were to die for.
She was known at the club as the Teenage Dream. Her eighteenth birthday was when she applied to be a dancer and three months later she was one of the highest paid girls on the payroll.
Don't worry, she was still modest with everything. Outside of the club, she was a proper girl. She went to college and had a respectable apartment, but her money went home to her brother who was struggling through his last year of high school. Technically, she was now his official guardian, but she couldn't make a living in their hometown.
She had moved away two weeks before her birthday, taking some of her college money to use as a deposit on her little apartment and even had enough left over for some furniture.
"Crystal!" Vicki, a veteran dancer, called, "Come on! Two minutes until show time."
Elena nodded, "Okay, Vic. Be there in a sec." One last look at her makeup told her that she looked ready to dazzle. She walked over to Vickie and gave her a smile as she shimmied her skirt up a little higher.
Vicki grabbed her arm and whispered, "Remember, tonight a scout's out there for that club in Times Square. Can you imagine if we got in there? We'd have it made!"
"I'm not going to let a scout throw me off my game," Elena laughed, patting Vicki's arm reassuringly, "I got this."
Damon Salvatore sat in the back of the club, admiring the dancers as they took their turns on the stage. It was almost the end of the night and he had yet to see a dancer that captured his attention.
Too blonde, too old, too fake, not flexible enough, his thoughts were loud as he appraised the women like cattle.
The women seemed to either be disinterested in their job or way too eager. He wanted women who were confident and could work the stage to their advantage. After all, he wanted repeat customers and word-of-mouth was such a lovely thing in his profession.
As he brushed invisible lint off of his leather jacket, he was about to stand when the final dancer of the night came out.
Her hair was a chocolate waterfall that cascaded down the smooth olive skin of her back. Her tight little outfit screamed modesty for a place like this, but she presented herself like a panther ready to pounce.
Damon sat up a little straighter as she took the pole.
"Introducing our lovely vixen, Crystal!" The DJ announced through the speakers.
Without a doubt, Damon knew that was just a stage name.
As he caught a glimpse of her face, he nearly choked. How old was she? Her face screamed that she couldn't be older than sixteen, but here she was working as a stripper of all things.
When her clothes slowly slipped off her body, he tried extremely hard not to look. He felt as if he would be dirty for gazing at something so innocent. Besides, he didn't have to look to know that the girl was all natural.
Damon decided that he had to have her for his club, no matter what.
"Oh my God, you were great, Crystal!" Vicki gushed as the brunette found her way backstage after picking up her discarded clothing.
Elena blushed, fastening her top back on, "It was nothing. It was just me letting go for the moment."
Truthfully, working at the club was the only way that Elena managed the memories of her past. She couldn't let Jeremy down when everyone else already had. He was what kept her going every time she felt like quitting.
Elena shook away her thoughts as she began collecting her belongings from her workstation. She didn't want to leave anything behind since she had the next few days off.
Throwing on a sweatshirt and jeans, she pulled her hair up as she grabbed her bag before walking out to the bar to collect her paycheck.
"Damon, what can I do for you?" Klaus, the owner of the club, asked joyfully, "Not here to pick off my dancers are you, mate?"
Damon took a sip of his Bourbon, eyeing the British man intently, "I'm only interested in one of your dancers. I have a few concerns about her age, however…"
"Ah, you mean Crystal!" He clapped his hands together in understanding, "I assure you, she's over eighteen, but only just. She's been with us for a few months, practically came to me begging for a job."
"Well, I want her," Damon deadpanned, staring at his opponent with determination, "What do you pay her?"
Klaus pursed his lips, "You know I can't discuss wages with you, Damon. But, she makes more tips than any of my other dancers. She's good for business."
"What do you want for her?" The raven-haired man asked, "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."
As Klaus considered, a woman came up to him, standing between him and Damon, and held out her hand. He narrowed his eyes at her as he spoke lowly, "It's not time for your paycheck. I paid you last week."
The girl shook her head firmly as she placed a hand on her hip, "No, you paid Vicki last week. We're opposite paydays and I need my money."
"Listen here, I took you in when you needed a job," Klaus seethed, his eyes alight with rage, "I'll pay you when I pay you. You work for me. Not the other way around, sweetheart."
She squared her shoulders, "So, I guess you don't need me working here anymore then, right? You don't need me? I can get a job somewhere else."
"Try, love. No one will hire you after the recommendation I'll give," the blonde threatened.
She shrugged, "I'll take my chances." She turned around and faced Damon, looking down at his glass, "You gonna finish that?"
He nearly fainted as he saw her face. This was her. This was the girl. He shook his head dumbly as he motioned to his glass, "By all means, Miss…?"
She picked up the glass and downed it in less time than he could blink, "Gilbert. Elena Gilbert. Pleasure to meet you."
Before he could respond, she was out the door, leaving only a faint scent of strawberries behind.
How could she be so stupid? She gave up her job just because her asshole boss held off paying her for a week. She could've stuck it out.
Opening her purse, she fumbled trying to find her keys. She needed to get out of here and possibly into a nice warm bath that would make her forget her rash decisions and stupidity.
Finally locating her keys, she unlocked the car and flung the driver's door open. She threw her bag letting it land haphazardly in the backseat. She honestly didn't care if its contents went spilling everywhere; that was another mess for another day.
Elena groaned before she turned around, "Look, if you're going to try to convince me to stay in this crap strip club, you've got another thing comin', buddy."
The man caught up to her instantly and she couldn't help but be mesmerized by his bright blue eyes. His hair was as dark as midnight and that leather jacket did naughty things for Elena's imagination.
"I never got a chance to introduce myself," he said smoothly, as he ran his hand through his thick locks, "I'm Damon Salvatore. I own-"
"Salvatore?" She nearly shrieked, "You own the best club in the city!"
Damon smirked, "It's good to know my record precedes me. I actually wanted to talk to you earlier about a job proposition."
"And, let me guess, I screwed it up when you saw what a bitch I was to my boss," she groaned, mentally smacking herself in the head until she got a concussion.
He shook his head vehemently, "Ex boss and no. It makes negotiating with you easier. I'd like to meet with you and my business partner tomorrow morning. Does that work for you?"
"Seriously? Uh, yeah. I'm free any time after ten."
"Perfect," his eyes lit up, "We can meet at my club at eleven."
Elena breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank you so much, Mr. Salvatore."
"Please, call me Damon."
Review please! I'm super nervous!