The Contracted Stripper

Iris lay on her bed, clutching her pillow tightly as she cried. Her vision blurred with tears, and she could barely breathe from the weight of her sobs.Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

The harsh reality of her situation hit her like a ton of bricks. She felt violated, not just physically but emotionally. Her virginity, something she had wanted to share with someone she loved, had been taken by a man she felt no affection for. Ryan’s dismissive attitude only added salt to the wound.

Outside her room, Ryan knocked softly on the door. “Iris, open up. We need to talk.”

She didn’t answer, just hugged her pillow tighter. The sound of his voice made her feel even more broken. She felt like she had lost a part of herself, a piece she could never get back.

“Is life any harder than it is already?” she whispered to herself. “What else do I have to be proud of? I’ve been ripped off that one thing that made me hold my head high. This was not the plan I had for my life.”

Ryan knocked again. “Iris, please. Open the door.”

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out his voice.

“Iris, please,” Ryan’s voice was softer now, almost pleading. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

She wiped her tears and took a deep breath. “Leave me alone, Ryan,” she finally responded, her voice shaky but firm.

Ryan sighed heavily outside the door. “I didn’t mean for things to happen this way. I was drunk, but that’s no excuse. Just… please, talk to me.”

“No,” she replied. “I need time. I need space.”

Ryan stood there for a moment longer before walking away. Iris listened to his footsteps fade down the hallway.

She felt a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. How could she continue living in the same house with a man who had taken something so precious from her?

She buried her face in the pillow again, the memories of her dreams haunting her. She had been so close to achieving something, to build a life she could be proud of. Now, everything felt tainted.

Memories of her dreams and aspirations flashed before her eyes. “I thought life was about growing up, finishing school, getting a job, and saving enough money to open my own fashion house,” she murmured. “Fashion has been my passion since I was a little girl.”

Flashback*********************

Years ago, Iris was a bright-eyed ten-year-old with big dreams. She didn’t attend the best schools, but she went to one her mother could afford.

Despite the modest circumstances, she excelled academically, topping her class every year and winning awards as the best student. From an early age, she was captivated by fashion. She would watch runway shows and admire fashion brands and their owners.

At home, she started putting pieces of clothes together, creating beautiful designs inspired by the shows she watched. She had a sketchbook filled with drawings of clothes she wanted to make when she grew older. Her dream was clear: she wanted to own a fashion house.

But life threw her a curveball. Just before her graduation, her mother collapsed and was rushed to the hospital by a passerby. Iris ran to the hospital, frantic with worry. The doctors told her that her mother had passed out due to stress, but they didn’t tell her the whole truth. Her mother had pleaded with them not to reveal her true condition to Iris.

After her mother was discharged, life seemed to return to normal, but it was a facade. Her mother was hiding a serious illness.

Iris never got to meet her father, who her mother said died when she was pregnant. Despite Iris’s insistence on meeting her father’s relatives, her mother always discouraged it, saying they wanted nothing to do with them.

Her mother, still young but weakened by kidney disease, became pale and frail. Iris’s determination to get a job grew stronger after graduating college with top grades.

She submitted her resume everywhere in Houston bars, bookstores, malls, and schools, as a household, caregiver. But no job offers came her way.

One fateful day, Iris ran into Skylar, a former classmate from college who recently moved into the neighborhood. Skylar had always lived with her grandmother.

She was blunt and carefree, the kind of girl who lived each day as it came. Skylar had wanted to be friends, but Iris, with her big dreams and aspirations, had always kept her distance.

She couldn’t relate to Skylar’s obsession with boys and men; her focus was on her future, and her dreams of owning a fashion house.

Despite her reservations, her mother liked Skylar and often sent food to her grandmother before she passed away.

Skylar had no parents or siblings, just her grandmother, who had been a lively and beloved figure in the neighborhood until her last days.

When her grandmother died, no relatives showed up for the funeral. It was just Iris, her mother, and a few neighbors who came to bid her farewell.

Everyone loved Skylar’s grandmother, and her loss left Skylar alone in the world. It was during this time that Iris’s mother asked Skylar to move in with them to help her cope with the loss.

Living together, Iris and Skylar shared a room, clothes, and everyday life. They forged a bond through their shared grief and daily struggles.

But while Skylar seemed to move on, getting a job that took her out at night and brought her back in the early hours of the morning, Iris remained stuck, jobless, and increasingly desperate.

One particularly tough day, Iris was lost in thought, pondering the bleakness of her situation, when she heard a loud noise from the kitchen. Rushing in, she found her mother on the floor, lying in a pool of her blood. Letting out a scream, she called for Skylar, and together they managed to rush her mother to the hospital.

There, the doctor finally opened up about her mother’s condition: kidney failure. She needed an urgent transplant, a procedure that required an amount of money Iris couldn’t even fathom. Tears welled up in her eyes as she wondered how she could ever gather such a sum.

Skylar stood by her side, just as Iris and her mother had stood by her during her grandmother’s death. “Iris, crying won’t solve anything,” Skylar said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“But I don’t know what else to do,” Iris sobbed. “I have no one aside from Mom. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Hush n uow, Iris. Nothing will happen to her,” Skylar assured, though she was not entirely convinced. “We need to stay strong.”

“We can’t be sure about that. I can’t even afford the drugs she will need,” Iris said, the tears intensifying. “What am I supposed to do?”