When we're little kids, our teachers and parents read fairytales to us. We grow up believing in happily ever after. When I was a little girl, I used to pretend I was a fairy princess and that my bedroom was in a castle and that one day, a handsome prince would come and sweep me into his arms and carry me away. Too bad fairytales are just that. True love does exist. But it isn't perfect. It's real. It's scary. It's intense. It's not always holding hands and baking cookies. And sometimes you find true love in the most unexpected of places…

2008

I heard some old rock and roll song blaring in the background. Probably Van Halen. I didn't care. It didn't matter. After a while it all sounded the same. I looked around. There was a blonde next to me who went by the name of Maleigha…or at least she did on stage. The girls never shared their real names. I guess every sect has a code…even strippers.

I looked in the mirror and once again almost didn't recognize the reflection staring back. I saw a pretty girl with tired eyes and the distinct look that let someone know she had lived a hard life. Makeup didn't hide everything even though I wore gallons of it. Goddamn…if only my parents could see me now. I could just see my father shaking his head. My mom would probably cry. I don't know. I hadn't talked to them in months anyway.

I was still pretty pissed and once again, almost certain that they were the reason to blame for all my woes. This obviously was not how my life was supposed to be. I was a bit of a drifter. A free spirit who marched to the beat of her own drum. I didn't care about college. I didn't care about wrestling. I just liked to party. And that had gotten me into trouble. Mostly stupid shit…nothing worth bragging about, that's for sure. A few fights here and there and a misdemeanor marijuana possession charge. One night after drinking and letting a bunch of sleazy guys at the bar do Tequila shots off my crotch, I'd gotten behind the wheel of my car. I thought I was okay to drive but the first time I swerved, just my luck, the blue lights flashed and the siren wailed and the next thing I knew, I was in cuffs facing a DUI charge.

That had been the last straw for my folks. They'd had it. They had bribed and preached and yelled and cried enough. Nothing had worked so when I needed them the most, they had decided to abandon me…or what they called exercising tough love. Whatever. I didn't need them anyway. I could take care of myself. I was a bad ass after all…until I found myself without a penny in my pocket or a place to lay my head. That'll snuff the "bad ass" right out of anybody. Quickly.

I met a guy named Gus. He was older. Looked like a typical "Gus". He owned a strip club and let me work for him. That first time was scary as fuck. Taking my clothes off for a bunch of drunks. Feeling like everybody was judging me one way or another. But I was desperate. I had to do something. So I did it and threw up all night afterwards. But it got easier. And Gus supplying alcohol and coke and weed and whatever else the girls needed made it bearable. Once I got over the shame of what my life had become, the sheer rebellion I had to stick it to my family allowed me to relax and somewhat enjoy my life. I was living in Peoria, Illinois, making enough money to survive. And partying my ass off.

"You ready, babe?"

I looked over at the short, pretty brunette standing next to me applying red lipstick. Her name was Mia…her real name. We had become pretty close. She was a little younger than me, an Army brat with a strict Irish Catholic upbringing. I guess we both had something to prove. Mia was nice and a lot of fun to hang out with. She was Gus' top girl. A few times after getting fucked up the night before, we'd make out. No big deal. But Gus got a kick out of it. Said we should incorporate it into the "act". So that's what we did. And that was how he made his money.

The clubs were wild in that part of the country. Those people really knew how to party. The girls danced totally naked and it wasn't uncommon to have two girls dance together…kissing and touching was encouraged and eventually expected. The guys got off on it and the cash rolled in. Everybody won. I felt comfortable with Mia so that's what we did.

I was dressed in a skimpy pair of panties, heels, and a tee shirt with no bra. On this night, Gus had the bright idea for us to try a wrestling theme. I rolled my eyes. Oh the irony of that one. Two hot chicks rolling around in body paint…licking each other. It was a full and rowdy house. Yep…I was definitely gonna need a shot of Vodka for that one. Or three!

"Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Starr and Sascha…"

Those were our respective stage names, being called Starr after several star designs inked all over my body. The lights lowered and we began the routine, I got into it…it was like going into a zone. Honestly, I had never given a "happy ending" in the private dance room, had never gone home with a customer. Some of them were terribly unattractive. Some of them were gorgeous. Some had money to blow, others were living pay check to pay check, tipping me with next week's grocery money. I had my regulars, some I actually had conversations with but none ever really stirred my interest. No, not like that. It was just a job. Hell, that was the only thing separating me from the customers...well, they were just a bunch of horny men. Nothing more or less.

But on this night, there was one particular guy that sort of stood out from all the rest for some reason. I noticed him almost from the second I stepped out onto the stage. He was tall. There was an unkempt mass of reddish, brownish hair stuffed under a baseball cap that had been douchely turned to the side. He wore a plain tee shirt and jeans. He was loud and obnoxious and putting away the alcohol like nobody's business. He looked at me in almost a creepy way but um…it didn't creep me out.

Our eyes met again and I savored the moment, fighting back the urge to cheese all over myself. I looked up and at the same time, so did he. It was this electrifying, literal magical moment that is hard to explain. Moments like that only happen in the movies usually. I guess aside from all those fairytales I used to read, in reality, I had never really believed in love at first sight. Was such a thing even possible? Could two human beings fall madly into true love just by looking at one another? That theory was tested. It may sound silly, but I looked at him and I knew. I just knew. You know?

He sauntered up to the stage, staring me down, eyes glazed over. I was moving my hips seductively to the beat of the loud music while Mia was on her knees, her hands caressing my inner thighs. I knew he liked what he saw…what guy wouldn't? I also saw the two 20 dollar bills in his hand. He stared at us for a while, guzzling beer, then he gave an evil grin and tossed some change onto the stage before walking off as he stuffed the bills back in his pockets. Tipping a dancer with change is an insult, if you haven't figured it out and I was pissed. He thought he was being clever. I picked up what I could and chucked it back at him.

"Hey! Fuck you, asshole!"

He turned and smirked.

"You talking to me?"

His eyes were amazing. I gave him a disgusted look before walking to the back to clean up. About 15 minutes later, Gus came and found me.

"You've been specially requested kid," he grinned, smacking on his gum, dollar signs in his eyes.

"Great," I muttered.

"You don't want to know what this guy paid for you."

"Mia too?"

"Nope…just you."

I made a face. It was probably the shy, balding guy sitting nervously at the side table wearing a designer suit that his potbelly threatened to pop out of at any minute. But when I entered the room, much to my surprise, it was someone else.

"What the fuck?" I looked at him, hands on my hips.

He leaned back in the chair, hands cockily behind his head.

"Start dancing," he commanded.

I was tempted to tell him to go fuck himself but Gus would have a coronary and I couldn't lose that job. So I gave the change throwing fuck face a lap dance. Naked as the day I was born, I grinded my hips, touched my own body, and tossed my hair back and forth. Out of spite, I turned it up a little, just to screw with him. It worked…sort of. The bulge in his jeans was huge and rock hard. But his facial expression…that creepy poker face, those intense eyes, never changed.

"Hope you got your 75 cents worth," I said when it was done.

"What's your name?" he ignored me.

"Starr."

He smirked.

"Not your stripper name. Your real one."

I was taken off guard. I wasn't expecting that.

"Why?"

"Cause I want to know," he shrugged. "I'm Mox but um…that's kind of my stage name."

It was my turn to smirk.

"You a stripper, too?"

"In your dreams, sweetheart," he did not miss a beat. "So I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

I rolled my eyes.

"Hope you enjoyed your dance. Good night, Mox."

I went backstage and got dressed and drank and talked to a few of my regulars and got some more tips. I ended up leaving around six in the morning. I noticed that "Mox" guy and his friends were still hanging around. He saw me and walked towards me, causing me to mumble under my breath.

"Where you going?" he asked. "You headed home?"

"Yeah," I finally answered, as it was impossible to scoot around his large frame. "I'm going home. It's late…early. You know what I mean."

"Why don't you come party with us?"

"No thanks."

"Why you gotta be like that? Come on. What's the big deal? It'll be fun."

"I said no."

"Your friend is going."

I looked up. Sure enough Mia, laughing and living it up had joined them. She looked up, waved, and smiled, beckoning me to come over.

"Fuck," I whispered.

He chuckled.

"The hell's your problem? You scared? You think I'm a serial killer or something?"

I couldn't help but smile. Come to think of it, he did kind of look like one.

"Look, dude, Mox…whatever. I don't know you."

"I'm Jon. My name is Jon and I am a respectable guy," he slurred.

"Really? And what is it that you do, Jon, that is so respectable?" I inquired.

"I'm a professional wrestler. You probably never heard of that shit, huh? You probably don't even know what that is."

I was surprised. He had no idea. But he definitely had my attention.

"You got coke?" I looked up at him.

He grinned.

"Yeah, we got coke. Good stuff."

"Beer?"

"Yep. We got some beer, too. But uh…I figure we eat some breakfast first, you know. Eggs and oatmeal and pancakes and shit. It's the most important meal of the day."

Great…a nutrition conscious drunk. I looked over at Mia and against my better judgment but not willing to ignore that feeling Jon aka Mox evoked inside of me, I shrugged and followed him…

I'll never forget that night and next day. It was the day my life changed forever. It was the day I met Jon. It was the day I fell in love with Jon. Maybe it wasn't a fairytale like the ones I used to read when I was a kid, but at least I had something now to believe in.