Stained silk
Kathreen peels off her silk lilac robe. It slides down her freshly waxed body, into a ball of fabric on the dusty blue carpet. She notices a multitude of stains embedded within the fibres. A mix of spilt drinks and bodily fluids. A draft from the floor vent lets in the only breathable air in the stuffy dressing room. The other rooms in the building have already been contaminated with toxic clouds of smoke, rotten cologne and sweat but this time of night. Having been dancing for hours she walks tirelessly over to a small metal stool in the centre of the dimly lit room.
Stepping her naked feet onto the cold top of the stool. She wears nothing but a leather choker from her last performance, around her thin neck.
An older white man with jelled back black hair and a cigarette protruding from the side of his mouth barge into the room, a smaller meek looking man trails behind him. The black haired man walks around her stalking every inch of her bare body. He puckers his lips and bits down hard on the bottom one. Waving his hand, without breaking eye contact with her skin, he points at the small man to his right.