Just to let everyone know, this is a dark story. It's nothing like my other stories and it's not a romance. It's definitely a mature theme. If that bothers you please skip over this story. To the rest of you, please enjoy this twist on the Sookieverse.

*Many of these characters belong to me, but the ones from SVM/True Blood are not mine!

When I was growing up, I always thought I would be spending my weekends with my friends; partying, club hopping, taking vacations and enjoying life like any other 22 year old girl. I imagined I would have just gotten out of a good four year university and have the time of my last the last summer before I really had to grow up; these should have been the best years of my life.

If these are the best years, you might as well off yourself now Sook.

Unfortunately I was not like most girls my age. My childhood was what you might call fucked up. My parents died in a random flash flood when I was only 7. My Gran had taken in me and my brother and things were going pretty good for a few years until my Uncle Bartlett; Gran's brother came to live with us. He was a sick old man and got his kicks by fondling me when my Gran wasn't home. I did my best to stay out of his crosshairs for the next three years, but life gave me another bitch slap when my sweet Grandmother had been killed in a robbery attempt. She had just picked up her prescriptions at the local drugstore right before closing time, when two young boys high on meth came in and shot her and the pharmacist to get their hands on some narcotics.

After she died, Uncle Bartlett was given full custody of Jason and me and things steadily went downhill from there. I was fourteen at the time and my brother was seventeen so he wasn't around much, which gave Bartlett plenty of alone time with me. I loathed him so deeply I shut down all my emotions so I wouldn't suffer at his hands every night. He might hurt my body, but I wasn't going to let him hurt my spirit; or so I thought. Problem was, a week after Jason graduated high school, he fled Bon Temps and all his sad memories; leaving me behind with them. I tried my best to stay at friend's houses or find something to do so I wouldn't have to be in my house, but after one particularly horrific evening with my Uncle, I just snapped.

What happened next was described by the local police as a terrible accident that maybe wasn't an accident. The fire trucks came barreling down our gravel driveway that morning making a dust cloud a half mile long, but it was too late. Someone in our house had accidentally left one of my Uncle's oxygen tanks a little too close to our gas stove and poor Bartlett didn't make it out of the inferno alive. After he died in the fire, I was sent to numerous foster homes until I turned eighteen. The state sure didn't do anything to help me start my adult life once I was too old for foster care and I realized real quick that the world was not going to give me any handouts. I had already been taking care of myself for years, but to be thrown out into the world with nothing but the clothes on your back is pretty overwhelming.

I ended up in debt to a major drug dealer and I don't need to tell you all the things I had to do to repay that debt. A pretty blonde like me with a nice rack could make a lot of money in this town, he had told me. He was only half right; you could make money but at the cost of your soul. The four years that followed were a string of bad decisions, pimps, and a serious drug problem that brings me to my current state of affairs.

That's why instead of planning for a weekend vacation, I was preparing for a long night at work. Weekends were the busiest time for the particular type of entertainment I provided to eager customers. Looking around my dismal two bedroom apartment I remembered that the rent was due in just a few days.

Great, I'll have to put up with all kinds of gross shit this weekend to make enough cash that fast.

"Come on Tessa, we have to leave in twenty minutes. Let's get this show on the road baby." My roommate Amy (AKA Aurora) loves calling me by my stage name when we're on our way to work so we 'can get in character' she says.

"Yea yea Aurora, just split it up and let's go." I say impatiently as she makes four perfect little lines on the coffee table. Funny, they look like little snow lines in the middle of this sweltering heat.

She takes the straw and snorts the first line before passing it to me. As I inhale the powder, there's many sensations at once. The slight burn in my nostrils, the feel of my mind coming to life, my heart rate picks up a little and it's not long before I can feel the wonderfully unnerving poison dancing around in my head. She and I finish the rest of it before getting in my old black Lexus and heading to Paradise Cove.

The club I work at can best be described as upscale trashy. It's a big white antebellum style building with neon blue lights and an Atlantis theme going on inside. There are two stages; one a large marble catwalk with a pole near the audience, and the other is just a big half-moon shape where more personal shows are performed. I bet when my Mom put me in ballet lessons at five, this wasn't the type of dancer she thought I would become; she probably didn't plan on dying young and orphaning me to a pedophile either.

I walk past the bar and give a little wave to Jack; my favorite bartender. He's about 30 years old, medium height and short black hair. He's pretty attractive in a bad boy kind of way but other than the occasional boredom screw, he's just my friend and personal Dr. Feelgood. He always has whatever you need to feel better, or in my case; just to feel at all.

I make my way backstage and take a seat at my little vanity. My space is cluttered with makeup, glitter, fake eyelashes, nail polish, lotions, etc. that I use on a nightly basis and a perfume bottle that belonged to my Gran. I don't use it and it probably doesn't even smell anymore, but it's one of the few things I have left that my Grandmother cherished and sometimes it calms me just to have it close by.

Peeling off my shorts and t-shirt, I walk over to my costume rack and flip through my choices. I decide on a little red two piece set. The red shorts and bandeau style top have little white polka dots and it looks like something from the set of Oklahoma the musical, if they had a porno version. I complete the look with a little white scarf, white strappy stilettos, and big curly pigtails laying on each of my shoulders.

How cute, I look like the all American girl next door.

I'll admit I'm not hard on the eyes; I have a pretty tight lean body and tan skin, along with long blonde hair and large perky boobs. I would have never lasted this long in the sex industry if I hadn't been attractive and I guess it was the one nice thing Mother Nature had done for me.

Ready for the night, I went back to the bar to talk to Jack.

"How's it going suga?" He asked when I took a seat.

"Same old, same old. Can I get a Jameson on the rocks?"

When he pushed the glass of whiskey into my hand, I felt him also slide a little baggie into my palm.

"A little pick-me-up for later"

"Thanks Jack, but I'm a little broke right now so I can't" I say trying to act innocent.

"That's alright, I'm sure you can find something to repay me with" He grins.

Of course I knew the idiot would take a blowjob for a gram of coke, and frankly it's a lot easier than paying him every time I need his services.

The club has been open for a few minutes and seats are starting to get full so I suck down one more shot before heading backstage. Aurora is sitting at her vanity doing her makeup and she winks as I walk up to her flashing my new gift from the bartender. She walks with me to the bathroom to take one more hit before show time and between the whiskey and the coke; I'm in a euphoric haze when it's my turn to dance. The blues and teals of the room are swirly like what's going on in my head and I have to remind myself of my routine mentally as I hear the MC announcing my entrance.

His voice booms out in the room, "Please welcome to the stage our little southern belle, Tessa Tatum!"

The music that comes on is Paradise Circus by Massive Attack. What a delightfully devilish song to play for my sweet girl routine.

I slither out to the stage looking as coy as a school girl; I put my back against the pole and slide into a crouching position with my legs spread wide. Pushing back up quickly gives me an extra little head rush on top of my already addled brain and the sensation delights me in a sick way. Dancing around the pole and beginning to pull off my top, I look out into the crowd to see the faces. Some of the girls try to avoid eye contact with customers, but I do the opposite. I feel like I can read something about people in their eyes and I search their faces to see if any of them are like me. Are their eyes full of life and vitality or are they hollow and weathered?

Bare from the waist up and only a thong on bottom now, I walk to the edge of my platform and dip down low to let the gawkers put their money in thong. I notice a tall, blonde haired man to my right sitting back looking unimpressed. He's extremely sexy and his lack of interest in my performance wounds my pride a little. The man beside him however is thoroughly enjoying the show. This guy has slicked back black hair and I notice he has an entourage of women and men with him. The hot blonde seems to be part of the group, but just uninterested unlike the rest of the fools he came with. I walk over to their side and drop down on all fours in front of him; poking my ass out a little. I crawl forwards on my hands and the black haired man walks up and drops a handful of bills in front of me; as they fan out on the stage, I roll over to my back and point my legs up towards the ceiling. The creepy guy is yelling and loving every minute of it when I drop my legs down over my head and push myself ass over head until I'm back on my knees facing the opposite direction. The blonde is eyeing me intensely but still shows no reaction.

Maybe he bats for the other team

My time is running out, so I collect my money and clothes off the stage and head back. Dropping all my things at my desk, I realize the weird grease ball probably just tipped me enough to pay my rent. That was easier than I thought.

After we do our main dance, all the girls are required to walk around the bar next to naked and socialize with the customers. Trying to entice them into buying more drinks and paying for lap dances and private shows are how we 'socialize' with them. I slip into a shredded looking white spandex dress that only covers my nipples and crotch mostly and a pair of traditional Lucite heels to make my rounds.

When I come to the table where the tall blonde had been, he's gone. Most of the entourage is still there and becoming louder and more annoying by the moment. I can't help but feel a little disappointed that he's disappeared and that's unusual. I don't usually let people's reactions to my dancing affect me, but mostly because I don't think I've ever seen someone look so indifferent to my act. Now embarrassed, shy, horny, and filthy; those are all things I see, but not a look like this beautiful stranger had. What the hell was his problem anyways? I think I looked hot in my Oklahoma rags and if he was too weird to see that then fuck him.

"Tess you got a private show in room 3. Get on over there quick" My stage boss Simon says pulling me aside.

I give my hair a quick fluff and reapply my lip gloss before walking into the little lounge. Well I'll be damned, if it isn't the obviously gay hot blonde.

Thanks for reading the first chapter! This is going to be a sinfully fun ride and unlike anything I've ever wrote. I hope you guys will enjoy the darkness and complexities of it and stick with me!