Holding my phone to my chest, I lose it with laughter as my heart explodes in my chest.

God, I love him.

Knowing I have to leave, I rush to the club and still I’m so late.

“Claire! You’re late! Tonight is not the night to be late!” Prissy yells at me as I run by.

“I’m sorry. I overslept!” I call as I rush to my station. Quickly, I change in to the first costume, which is a skimpy little corset and even skimpier black lace panties. Throwing in my brown contacts, I do my makeup in record time. I make sure I look perfect before placing the long black lashes and the crystals underneath my eyes to complete my look. As I’m placing my long, straight, blond wig on, I see that I have a text from Phillip.

Phillip: We’re here, front row. Don’t shake your ass in my direction.

For some reason that makes me laugh harder than it should. When my phone sounds again, I look down to see that it’s from Jude.

Hey Jude: Good Luck, hope your dancers don’t mess up. If they do, you can use my hockey stick to break their kneecaps. #JustKidding #kinda

I smile as I paint on my bright red lipstick before puckering my lips and standing up to put my high heels on.

“Claire! Let’s go!” Prissy yells.

“Coming!” I call and then I rush to where everyone is already standing, waiting on me. Standing in my spot behind the black curtain, I pose as everyone wishes me luck, and I do the same to them.

As the music to “Show Me How You Burlesque” starts, the dark black curtain rises, leaving me behind a black lace one with a light shining behind me. Slowly I move in a tantalizing way to the song, but as soon as it picks up in tempo, the curtain opens and I move quickly down the stairs, rotating my hips to the song as my mouth moves with the words. The place is packed something crazy, but the only people I see are my aunt and my uncle clapping along to the song. I can see Phillip shaking his head at my outfit, but a smile sits on his face as I’m joined by every dancer in the club onstage. Quickly we move to hard-hitting steps, enhancing the music on another level.

Snapping our fingers, I lip-synch as I move my body to the music, getting the club pumped before we go back into another sequence of dance moves. Turning, I bend over, shaking my ass, and over my shoulder I can see that Phillip is hiding his face. It cracks me up, but still I work the room like it’s mine.

Which, in a way, it is.

As I strut off the stage, I see Ms. Prissy with a grin as big as Texas, and as I pass by, my fellow dancers smack my ass, saying, “Way to go, baby! Let’s do this!”

Excited, I rush back to my station and get ready for my pole solo so that I can watch the rest of the show. Wearing a crystal-encrusted bra and panty set, I rub glitter lotion all over myself before making sure my wig is tight and secure on my head. I can’t be hanging upside down and the sucker falls off my head. Heading to where Ms. Prissy is standing, I cross my arms and watch as the show goes off without a hitch. Everyone is performing amazingly and pride sizzles in my chest. With the lights and smoke and atmosphere, it makes my choreography look a billion times better.

“The investors are here?” I ask and she nods.

“Yup, sitting up in VIP. I tried to get them drunk, but they aren’t drinking apparently. Bullshit. I’m hoping for a Ms. Prissy’s in Vegas.”

“Or a Ms. Diamond’s,” I say and laugh.

“Or a Ms. Diamond’s,” she agrees.

“Or maybe Prissy’s Diamond’s.”

Looking at me like a mom would her child, she smiles. “Yes, that sounds amazing.”

We share a long look and then both look out where Ellen is moving across the stage like a cat in heat. She’s a wonderful dancer, but she’s more slutty than burlesque. Some of the guys like it, but the older ones are sometimes offended. Not all the time, though. For the next hour, I watch as the girls kill the floor, giving the crowd exactly what they want. My pole solo is last, and when the floor lights come on so that the crew can install my pole, nervousness eats at my heart. This is just me and my pole. That’s it.

When the music to “Cabaret” by Justin Timberlake starts, the lights flash once, and then I come out with a swagger that has everyone hollering for me. Reaching for my pole, I move myself against it before lifting my leg and using the pole as leverage as I lean back, my head almost touching the ground. Doing various poses and leg stretches, I finally get on the pole, spinning around it and giving the crowd a great show. The only thing that bothers me is that I’m pretty sure Phillip didn’t watch a lick of the performance, but the crazy thing was he was the loudest to cheer for me.

He’s so amazing.

As the song ends, the lights shut off and I slowly walk off the stage, stepping on all the money that has been left on the stage for me. Prissy grins at me as I pass by, and for the next few minutes, I count my money and lock it up before changing in to a pair of sweats. I leave my hair and makeup on since I know I’ll be meeting with the investors in a matter of minutes. Picking up my phone, I see that Jude will be home in less than an hour, and I pray that I will be done here.

Looking up at the mirror, I take a long look at myself, and I don’t like what I see. I want to take all this stuff off because it’s not me. I sorta don’t want to be Diamond anymore. As I take in the long, fake lashes, the dark makeup around my eyes, my lips done up to be bigger and fuller, my straight, blond wig, the dark brown eyes, I don’t like it. I know that if I get a job as a burlesque choreographer, I’ll have to be glamorous, but I can be me. I want to be Claire. I look around my area, and I’m not sad at all to pack up my things. Not one bit. I’ll miss the people, I’ll miss my friends, but I’m going to bigger and better things, with the love and respect of my family and Jude.

When Reese and Phillip come into my line of sight, I turn in my seat to grin at them.

“You were so good!” Reese says excitedly.

“Thanks!” I gush as I stand to hug them.

“Really good. Great job; it was amazing,” Phillip says, and I beam with pride.

“Thanks, I’m really happy. Hopefully, the investors like me,” I say, my hands fidgety at my sides.

“I know they will,” Phillip assures me. His eyebrows pull together and he says, “I really don’t like you as a blonde.”

I laugh. “Hey, it’s so no one knows it’s me.”