Sienna Rojas Point of View
I was numb.
My body did not connect to my soul as I swung around the pole.
The stench of cheap whiskey and sweat clung to the air as the bass from the club vibrated through the walls, sending shivers down my spine.
The red lights cast shadows across the stage, highlighting every curve as I moved to the rhythm. My heels clicked softly against the pole as I twirled, my body reacting to the music as if on autopilot.
This was my life now, an endless routine of forced smiles, grinding hips, and desperate horny men.
Tonight was no different. The stares were familiar, the whispers expected. I knew their eyes, their desire. I could feel it like a physical weight pressing down on me, but it barely registered anymore.
Nothing really did.
Not after the news I'd received this afternoon.
Six months to live. Maybe less.