Yuhi slid up the pole and looked out into the wave of men. The same old timers and drunks she saw last week. She hated her job as a dancer for the famous luxurious pub. At least she was payed well.
She turned her head away from the crowd and made her way to the curtain of the stage as the music ended. The manager was waiting for her behind the main stage. She wore a scowl on her face.
"You have another show in 15 minutes," she said sourly.
"Yeah, I get it. I know," Yuhi said tiredly, heading toward her dressingroom.
Hana sat on the dock off the beach, kicking her feet in the water below. She had accidentally fallen on the beach into the water and her uniform was close to soaked. So she sat on the wooden boardwalk, bathing in the sunlight to dry her clothes.
She looked to her right, noticing three other girls sitting together and laughing. Then they look across the beach and began to duck their heads together to whisper. Hana looked to her left and saw three guys walking down the beach, toward to where the girls were.
Hana sighed and looked down at her reflection. She knew they wouldn't notice her. She wasn't beautiful like the girls in their bakinis. She closed her eyes and lay back on the wood, trying to block out the girls' suddenly loud giggles and focus on the sun drying her.
Yumi slumped down on her bed as she looked at the picture yet again. She was looking through her yearbook she had gotten just days ago. School was out now, and all she had to even see his face again was his photo in the book.
She had crushed on him the whole two years of middle school. That year as a freshman, she was beginning to think it was more than an innocent crush. She stared at his picture for 30 whole minutes before closing the book with a sigh. She placed it gently on her nightstand and took her time getting ready for bed.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her long blond hair. Many times she had imagined when he would pull up to her house in a new car and ask her if she wanted a ride. Or even one time where she imagined that time had stopped, but he and herself were the only ones that could still move. In the end, he would always sweep her off her feet.
She dragged her feet as she came up to the side of her bed. She tossed the covers back and climbed onto the bed, pulling the covers over her. She closed her eyes, and there he was, as perfect as a picture taped to the back of her eyelids. She moaned his name once and huddled into a ball, waiting for her dreams to take her away.
