The girls were different.

She knew they would be going in. But time never did run steadily linear in one's memories and thoughts.

Despite the fact that the club was on the high end for Sacramento and thus had lower turnover, there was only so long a girl could dance and make enough profit to keep her spot. She of course had been the outlier. But then again, she had the unfair advantage of never aging.

Most of the girls hated her almost immediately as she meandered past the shadowed alcoves and distant tables, toward the comfortable seats clustered in small groupings around the stages. Hungry eyes that had been fixed on them, slid away to drool after Twist and raised bills dropped back to laps.

She would make it up to them by the nights end. And even as she lowered herself into one of the seats she could see some of the girls sizing her up for a "guest performance" or perhaps as a target. She was after all dressed in some very nicely expensive clothing. Well, if one could call her outfit clothing. The price had been inverse to the amount of fabric after all.

As the club collectively closed its mouth and resumed the night's business, Twist settled in to watch, her clutch full of crisp clean bills within easy reach, and wondered which girl would be the first to approach her.

And of course which would be last.