She takes another deep breath, but this time to calm herself. "Okay," She runs her hands down her jeans. "So what am I in for exactly?"

"Skin. Sweat. Music. Money. Think you can handle that?"

"Honestly I'm not sure what to think right now. It feels like a nightmare. A nightmare that I'm getting paid for."

"A nightmare that you're paid to dance for." I smile gently and regain my motherly instincts. "Don't overthink it too much, you'll just drive yourself crazy."

"And if I'm already there?"

"Join the club."

**Hello all! This is a modern day FOURTRIS fanfic. The idea just popped into my head and I had to write it down now before the inspiration disappeared. Sigh… the struggles of writing. Anyhoosers, this idea was inspired by the song Dirty Dancer by Enrique Iglesias. Of course the story won't follow the song all the way through, but… I thought to myself, huh, what would it be like if Tris was a stripper? Odd concept, but I'm going with it. Please be patient with me when it comes to updating; I'm not the most consistent person in the world when it comes to it. So I'm apologizing in advance. My goal though is to update once a week. Also I just wanted to add, that I am making up my own University for them to go to, so no hate please! Now then, without further ado, let the show begin!

Reminder: If you had read this story when I first uploaded chapters 1-11 back in late 2014, they will be slightly updated now so I would recommend rereading the whole thing. If you are a new reader here in 2015, then welcome and I hope you enjoy!**

**Another side note before you get started! This story is rated T, and since starting this story, I have had some not so T moments. So... I created a companion/counterpart story to this, it's on my page called INTO THE NIGHT M SCENES. This way, if I have chapters or scenes that are more M than T, they will go on that publication and the milder versions will be on this one. I don't have a real M scene until around Chapter 19, so if you decide that you want to read the M version, just head on over to the other publication and look up the chapter :) I wanted to write a T story, so I didn't move the rating up, just created an optional solution. Whether you want to read it or not is completely up to you - personally, I prefer the M scenes.**

Tris POV - Tuesday, September 16th

The music pounds in my ears. The sound of people cheering, and screaming isn't what pushes me onward. It's the knowledge that I'll have had one of my best tipping nights ever in a while. Two bachelor parties came tonight, one of them with a specific request to see me. Peter made sure they had a private room to view me in.

But now, back out in the main room, in the center of the stage with my counterpart Candy, we grinded on each other until the guys in the room passed out.

Candy of course, isn't her real name, but in this business, we need fake names to avoid creepers. Candy, is the stage name for my roommate and best friend Christina Carlyle. She really is beautiful, and in can understand why a lot of guys want her to dance for them, or do other unsavory things to them, but I can't for the life of me figure out why I'm currently ranked as the number 1 dancer. Compared to Christina, I may as well be a boy in drag. I have little curve in my hips at best. My skin is pale and sickly unless pounds of makeup are thrown on. My breasts are just barely B-cups and I'm short.

Whereas Christina is like an exotic beauty. Full breasts, curves to die for, long slim legs and dark brown eyes that command a room. She also has quite a mouth on her, however, thanks to the new rules Eric put in, we aren't allowed to talk to the customers unless they pay for it.

Eric Matheson, creepy ass guy, is Max's second in command. Max is our boss, but he's almost never around. He's either up in his office hidden away or at one of his other clubs. The string of clubs is known as The Factions. There are six of them, though I think he's dropping one of them soon. We work in the club called Dauntless. The main club colors are black, meaning you have to be wearing something black to enter.

All the dancers wear some kind of black with the occasional accent colors. The club is underground and probably the wildest of the clubs in the Factions. Every one of the dancers Max owns are known as Max's Angels.

He has another one on the northeast end of central Chicago at the top of some high class building known as Erudite. Just like guests here have to wear black, they have to wear blue to get in there. The dancers there mostly wear blue, white and black. It's much more of a higher society club.

Another known as Candor, where guests have to be wearing black and white. That place has lots of strobe lights and is high up in some building with all glass walls similar to Erudite. I think it's located on the more northern side of central Chicago, and you can see the navy pier from its location. I visited there once just as all new dancers do, to see where I would best fit in.

The fourth is on the west side of central Chicago. It's known as Abnegation. You have to wear gray to get in. I almost went there, but I prefer Dauntless much better. Abnegation is more of a bar than a club, and it's open to mostly middle aged people who don't dance and don't raise their voices above a room level. It is a big place for sports I hear, but I wasn't interested in it, though it would have probably been the safer choice.

Amity is the fifth club. And it's not even really a club at all. It's more of a party planning place where people can go and buy things to plan their own parties. It's near the Abnegation, but still in its own area. Max's main office site is there, because that's where all his other employees work. The ones who do his bills, do all the paperwork and stuff. Most of the time though, he's here at Dauntless. The people at Amity were too nice for me.

The sixth club, the one I'm pretty sure he's going to drop fairly soon, is known as The Gutter. But he's been making the joke that the Gutter will be known as the Factionless soon enough. It's still a club, but its wear he sends the older washed up dancers to go. They really don't care what you wear to get in, since its so much of a dump anyway. The most famous dancer there is known as Deception. She started at Erudite and became very popular. But was then transferred to Abnegation. Apparently she got pregnant, and that's one of the only ways Max lets you leave. But she came back about ten years later and started working at the Gutter. She's still fairly popular there, but she's been going by Deception so much that no one knows her real name.

Eric is the manager of our club, and more importantly, the guy who tells me what to do and when to do it. He's tall, broad shouldered, buzzed blonde hair on the side of his head, and growing it out on top. Similar to a marine cut, and trust me, he could easily look the part. He has a black eyebrow piercing and many others in his ears. Tattoos on his neck that look like tire tracks of some kind, and others on his arms. He likes to watch us dress and warm up.

But then there's Peter, the schedule manager. He tells us at the beginning of the night who is booked in which rooms for the night, and the different acts that are going on stage. The schedule is created by Eric, but Peter gets the joy of walking into our dressing room to tell us up close and personal.

The final number is coming up. Christina and I each grab a pole at the front of the stage, the lights are flashing red and blue. We flip over so that our legs bent around the poll are the only thing holding us up and begin to spin. For some reason, the guys love this. Probably because it shows how flexible we are and our boobs practically fall out of our skimpy tops. We flip over at the last second and pound our feet into the ground and strike a pose as the last beat of the music ends, and the stage goes black.

I can still hear the echoes of the last music notes pounding in my head. My breathing is heavy, and I can hear the guys cheering. There are hands shoving money into my black knee high leather boots. Then after another moment, Christina and I turn and walk back off stage.

"Good job tonight guys." Another one of us dancers says to us. Her name is Shauna, she's two years older than us, and has been doing this the longest out of everyone here. Her stage name is Bambi, and she's been looking for a way out for a while.

"Alright ladies, money on the table." Peter says as he comes up to us. Christina and I empty our boots like every night. Anything that goes into the boot belongs to the club. Money that goes anywhere else, is our tip. All in all, our boots count up to about $400 tonight. In tips, as in stuffed into my revealing outfit or stuck in my hair, I made about $70 tonight. Not my best night. Certainly not my worst. Christina pulls out just over $100. She was booked for one more private party than I was tonight.

We head back to the dressing room while Peter watches us. Lauren guards the entry way. She used to be a dancer here, but she got older and didn't make as much. Rather than getting sent to the Gutter, Eric thought she could be useful since she's kinda scary to those who don't know her, and it helps that they're cousins, so now she's part of the security team. Her stage name was Glo, and that's what we still call her. She doesn't like being called Lauren in here. Anywhere else is fine, but not in this building. Just like the rest of us. If we see each other in public we don't dare say our stage names, and pray to god that no one recognizes us.

Lynn's station is next to mine, her stage name is Luscious. She's currently pulling off her hot pink wig to reveal her buzzed brown hair. Shauna's station is next to hers and they share a look. They're sisters. But their parents died young. Shauna got into this business at 15, dropping out of high school and passing off as 18. That's why she got the name Bambi, she was young when she lost her parents. She did everything she could to provide for Lynn and their younger brother Hector, but it wasn't enough. Lynn started working here, and together they managed enough money to send Hector to a good school. I don't think he knows what it is they do or how they got the money. He knows they have day jobs – even if it's working for the same man – but not this. He doesn't know that they're owned by Max. We all are. And Shauna and Lynn would kill anyone who told him what it is they really do.

Victoria, or Tori as she prefers is the next girl to walk in whose been here a long time. She came right after Shauna, except she was 20 when she started. She's the oldest stripper here, but she keeps guys coming back, plus she looks fantastic. Her stage name is Paris because she was born there.

Cara is right behind her, already struggling to get out of her outfit. Cara is different from most of us. We're here mostly because we need money for life and college, and so is she, but she loves school. When she's not on stage, she's hiding out back here reading. Eric calls her a Nose. She wants to major in Organic Chemistry for reasons that are beyond me. Science just flies right over my head. But because that's what she want to major in, odds are that she'll be in school a year longer than those of us going for average majors. She needs the money more than anything. When she's on stage, Cara is on fire and super popular among guests, but as soon as she's off stage, she looks like a fish out of water. Eric gave her the name Trinity for working on stage.

Molly is the last main girl in our gig to walk in. She's a bit more masculine looking but she pulls it off. To be perfectly honest, no one really likes her. She picks on us, and tries to beat us down so that she can have the spotlight. She reminds me of Peter in a way. Her given stage name is Porsche.

I strip out of my black and red outfit, and pull on dark gray stretch pants and a black peasant top. Wiping most of the makeup off my face, and removing my black wig. I hate this thing. It gets hot and scratchy, but it and my tattoo, goes with my stage name; Raven.

My real hair is plain blonde. No highlights or coloring of any kind. Just a dull pale color, much like the rest of my skin. My gray-blue eyes aren't bright and shiny, they're just kind of there. An accessory to add to my plainness.

School begins tomorrow. My third year. I was finally able to declare my major last week with the guidance counselor and got into the beginning classes for it. Creative Writing with a minor is Physical Education. I have to stay in shape for this job and this seemed like the easiest way to make sure I don't slack off. It was more Max's idea than anything. Almost all of us who are in school are required by Max to have a minor in Physical Education.

Christina and I leave the club and walk to the parking lot. It's 3am. We strategically only take afternoon classes. Then go to work in the diner which opens at 4pm, where they allow us time to do homework between taking care of customers and then finally the club which opens at 10pm. The diner is open until the early hours of the morning, and Max finds girls who need work to do the job. They are generally girls who he's grooming to go into our business.

My first class isn't until noon, so if I get home soon, I can get a full eight hours of sleep. Christina doesn't have class until 2pm. I'll have to take the bus to campus since our car is technically her car.

We drive home and I long to immediately jump into bed. It's not a very big apartment. An entry way/living room area, kitchen/dining room to the right, bathroom in between the two bedroom doors which are parallel to the living room area. I'm in the corner room, and Christina in the room between the bathroom and living room. My room is just big enough for a bed, dresser, small closet with a floor length mirror, small desk and window to the building's fire escape. Christina's room wouldn't have a window normally, but we're on the top floor so she has a small skylight. We've been living here since we started working for Max.

I put my money in the safe under my bed and then hide it in the back of my closet. I always try to hide it somewhere new every few days just in case. Christina makes me eat some romen noodles and drink a glass of water before bed because we haven't had dinner yet. She then goes to sit on the couch and read the last bit of her summer assignment I go to my room.

The floor length closet mirror immediately to my left startles me every time. White Christmas lights hand around the ceiling and give me a haunting look; left over makeup smeared under my eyes, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and my body droops from dancing all night. Luckily Max only makes us do it every other night. We do however work in the diner every day except Sundays. On the nights that aren't ours, a different group of dancers work Dauntless. I don't know any of the girls in that group.

Tomorrow is Wednesday, the first day of the semester. I've been attending Central Chicago University, home of the purple-silver-black wolves, for the last two years. And I've been working for Max for four. I started when I was 16. When my parents died. I ended up getting a tattoo to represent them, ravens, on my left collar bone. I got three in total, meaning one for my brother Caleb. He's 10 months older than me, but we're technically in the same grade. Only he went off to New York after our parents died, for something in science. The ravens are how I got my stage name, and it wasn't something horrible like Chastity. My first night there was also Christina's, and afterwards, we went to go get tattoos of Max's mark on our lower back. A spout of flames contained in a ring with extended wings on the sides. Because we are Max's Dauntless Angels. Those in Erudite have to get the same thing but with an eye instead of flames, which I think is totally creepy. Those in Abnegation have to get two hands clasped together. Those in Candor get scales, and not like animal scales, but weight scales. Amity get a tree, which I actually think is kind of pretty. And those in the Gutter just have whichever place they originated from.

As far as I know Max only has one set of male dancers for girl's night which happens once a month in three of the clubs. It happens on the first Friday of the month at Dauntless. The second Friday at Erudite. The third Friday at Candor. I've never met any of them. Shauna, Tori and Lauren know some of them, but they say that the guys are all jerks.

I fall asleep quickly when my head hits my pillow. I made sure to have advil and a glass of water waiting for me when I woke up since the lights and music can leave devastating headaches the next morning.

I can still hear the nightlife of my neighborhood as I drift off. And I ask myself the same question over and over again as the darkness takes me; how am I ever going to get out of this?

**PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you think! I am very motivated to update when I get reviews!**

And just as a general statement to reiterate - this story is my idea. I have not seen it anywhere else on the web, though I'm sure similar stories exist. There's no real copyright seal I can put on this story, so this is as good as it gets.