The Lady was right about one thing. This was like her debut. She’d been cast in a play last year. Tried out for Lady MacBeth but was cast as one of the Weird Sisters. She was sure it was because the author of the play didn’t like her. Becc was her name and she was an uber-feminist. She’d dropped the “Re” and the “a” from her name because it was too “girly.” In her version of MacBeth Lady MacBeth endured the trials that her husband did in the original, and instead of MacDuff being “no man of woman born” she was “no woman of man conceived” and was instead borne of the dna of 2 lesbians. Peca’s part as one of the witches three had a decidedly sensual bent and while she was unhappy that she didn’t make the cut for the main role, she made a lot of money from clients who’d seen her onstage antics.

Becc, for her part, was decidedly anti-male which was a bit surprising given her chosen line of work. She was a beautiful girl who was disappointed that Lady Murano was not interested in catering to an exclusively female audience. To be fair, Becc wasn’t the most ordinary girl who’d ever worked in the House, and there was some rumor that the play was a thinly-veiled version of her dream to take down Lady Murano and run the Red Monarchy herself. Nonetheless, it proved to be a very popular production and Becc ended up meeting a benefactor at her opening night and found commercial success with another of her productions which was now touring. Regardless of her personal feelings, Becc walked out of the wrought iron gates for the last time with Lady Murano to thank for her success.

As she pondered the implications of the Lady’s words she wandered into her work room and flopped down onto the bed for a moment. Staring up at the sheer-fabric draped ceiling she asked herself how she ended up here. She wasn’t terribly pretty and she wasn’t even the best people person. She liked to think she still liked people, but the truth was that since her early twenties she had begun skiing down the slippery slope of misanthropy. Oh sure, she had her shining moments when she was the center of the crowd and her old personality made itself apparent but anymore she was tired of people, couldn’t really stand to speak to someone she knew, much less anyone she didn’t know. And here she was being touched by multiple strangers on a daily basis. But the money was so good and the Red Monarchy was one of the highest-esteemed Houses in the city. Aside from their twice-yearly stage productions there were art showings, poetry readings, and classes of all kinds. It was less like a brothel and more like a college where you banged your way through instead of paying tuition.

She considered herself Mark wasn’t the jealous type. Not that he was ever jealous or even unpleasant about anything. Shame she couldn’t bring him to opening night. He was so looking forward to going. Peca sighed and slid off the bed to head toward the closet.

Her first client of the day was, thankfully, some college student named Bill who was nervous but clearly horny. The young ones were so eager to please, asking if everything was okay and if it felt good for her too. They hadn’t gotten to the point yet where they climbed on, puffed, and then climbed off and had to be reminded they couldn’t sleep in her bed. Bill didn’t even want to be in bed.

“I uhh, was wondering…” His creamy skin turned bright red. Peca felt for him, as this was clearly his first time paying for it and she didn’t even know why he was there, being such a good-looking kid. She smiled sweetly and slid up ned to him on the bed, put an arm around him and massaged his shoulder.

“Hmm?” She leaned over to catch his eyes which were looking everywhere except at her. “Tell me what you’re wondering, Bill.” She leaned in conspiratorially. Damn, I’m good at this.

“I mean my folks, they’re real religious and I don’t wanna disappoint ‘em…” He trailed off. A tug at her heart reminded Peca she was still human.

“Bill,” she lifted his chin with her hand “is this your first time?” He reddened even more and she knew that was the case. “I’ll be gentle.”

“N-No, I mean. Yes, it is my first time but…I don’t want you to be gentle. I always sorta wanted to, well, like…” He was so shy and he looked at the floor as he pointed to the dresser. Ah, she thought, standing up. She took his hand and pulled him to his feet, led him to the dresser and started to unbutton his shirt, making sure he was able to see it in the mirror. His relief was evident, and he seemed even more relieved when she didn’t try to kiss him.

Several men of various ages and a woman later, Peca showered, dressed in her street clothes, and exited the room, locking the door behind her. Down the hall she went to the theater, already tired, to put on yet another assumed identity.

“Mark”

“Yes?”

Peca bit her lip, her fingers running through Mark’s dark brown hair. “About opening night,” she paused, trying to think of the right way to tell him. It didn’t help any that he smiled at her, his eyes bright with excitement at seeing his girlfriend perform in front of such a large and distinguished crowd. She just had to break it to him and reconcile soon. Maybe tonight. Or tomorrow. She was tired. “Mark you can’t go. It’s just…things, and well, Lady Murano thinks I could really be a hit with the clients and, and if you’re there I could be missing out on a lot of money.” There. She’d said it.

Mark said nothing. His smile shrank and he nodded, “okay.”

“It’s not really okay. I’d much prefer it if you were there. You know, the whole Court and all. But Lady Murano has invited me to submit a play so on my opening night you are so there. Okay?” She didn’t know why she felt so guilty.

“It’s alright. I understand. Business before pleasure, right?”

“Yeah. Something like that.” Sighed again. “Let’s go to bed. I have an early day tomorrow.” She got up and started padding toward the bedroom, stopping when she realied Mark wasn’t with her. “You coming?”

He sat on the couch. He looked almost dejected. “In a minute.”

The next day was more of the same. She almost wished Bill would come back. He seemed so sweet. He was certainly manly once he got into the swing of things and she had, surprisingly, enjoyed herself. Some girls loved having sex for a living. They thought it was fantastic and they tried to convince her that once she had been doing it long enough, she’d like it too. So far she had mostly been annoyed at the fact that she had to endure the gropes of random people who just wanted a hole to stick it in. The things she did for money.

In the dressing room Rohanna poked her as she was shimmying into her red dress. “Pec, did I do something to piss you off? You’ve been acting kind of weird lately.”

“No. I’m fine.” She struggled with her zipper, unwilling to ask the other girl for help.

“Oh here, let me do it.” She forced her assistance, turning Peca around and commandeering the zipper. “Is this about the other night? I didn’t mean to upset you. I know you’re kind of sensitive about Mark and all but I figured that you would realize I was kidding. I’m sorry.” Pec turned around to face a sheepish Ro, which she had never before seen.

“I overreacted. I’ve been tense is all. Forgive me?”

“Of course!” Ro smiled her big, wide smile and Peca found herself embraced suddenly to the petite naked girl. Returning the embrace, she struck up a conversation about the excitement of opening night, just a week away. Ro seemed disappointed that Mark wouldn’t be attending but she knew the drill. She’d had a partner once and had to leave him home on opening night. He couldn’t take it and he’d left her. Inside, Peca felt a tiny swell of schadenfreude. Here was Rohanna, beautiful, perfect Rohanna, and for all her charms she was unable to keep the one she loved. Peca felt so lucky; she had everything.

In the communal dressing room, Peca carefully wrapped the swaths of crimson fabric that comprised her costume and packed it into her trunk. She resisted the urge to take it out again and touch it. She’d spent more than a little time in tactile exploration of its many layers and fabrics. In the box it looked like just a pile of various luscious red textiles but once she was clad in it she felt incredible. She would see if she could purchase it after the final performance. Her castmate Rohanna, the epitome of the child queen she played, was naked next to her and reaching across her to grab a hanger from the rack. Peca envied Ro her body. She was lithe, with slender hips and her breasts seemed perfectly sculpted. She was the perfect schoolgirl or cheerleader, and after a production last year she had become quite popular as a pixie. Maybe, Peca thought, she could achieve similar success with her costume.

“So, Pec” Ro giggled, dragging out each syllable “is that Mark out there in the theater? He’s a cutie.”

“Yep, that’s him.”

“Mind sharing?” Rohanna tittered, her elfin face drawn into an impossibly cute grin. Ordinarily Peca adored Ro’s face but it suddenly got on her nerves. For all the acting she’d just done, she was unable to hide her sudden tension.

“He’s not into that, Rohanna. Sorry.” Her thin smile was as arid as her tone of voice.

“He would be if you told him to.” The smaller woman seemed unaware of the sudden change in temperature.

Peca started toward the door. “I would never ask him to change. And put some clothes on. You know the Lady hates it when you wander around naked.”

At home Mark enthusiastically sang her praises. Curled up next to him on the couch, she ran a hand through her coarse hair. She kept it short and straight and liked to experiment with it. Today it was flipped. Mark planted a kiss on the tip of her nose, smiling widely.

“Oh honey, you were spectacular! You looked amazing and you were so fiery. So passionate!” Bathing in this stream of compliments, Peca forgot all about Rohanna and her request. Her head rested itself, it seemed, on Mark’s shoulder. She was so tired. As he continued to gush about her performance, Peca sleepily reminded herself to do a reconciliation before opening night.

As she walked into the Red Monarchy the following afternoon, Peca encountered even more new clients than there had been the day before. They were mingling, lurking, hanging about in the hopes of scoring a pass for opening night. The pass guaranteed a reserved balcony seat for the play and admission to the subsequent House gathering, known as the Court. This was the real prize, for while a ticket for opening night could be purchased, even the most well-heeled client was not guaranteed entry to the Court. Passes were granted, on occasion, to the favored few of the Lady of the House, or to the lovers or loved ones of performers. For everyone else dreaming of entering the Court there was the lottery, where all chances were equal and a down-on-his-luck college student had as good a shot as a wealthy celebrity at getting beyond the enormous gilded pocket doors.

So caught up was Peca in her thoughts that she walked right into someone at the foot of the grand staircase. She mumbled a hasty apology and looked up with a terse smile. So surprised was she to see the face of Lady Murano that she stumbled back involuntarily.

“Lady, I apologize” she bent at the waist and blushed profusely. Her cheeks took on the tone of pink chocolate. A cool hand touched her bare shoulder.

“Peca, darling, it’s absolutely alright. We’ve got quite the crowd in here today. I expect it will even busier the closer we get to opening.” Her eyes were dark and intense. Peca’s eyes were taken by the contrast between Lady Murano’s dark skin and her diaphanous ivory dress. Encircling the swanlike neck was a choker made of the same fabric as the dress and ornamented with some kind of crystal flower. It was a striking image that she cut, and her hair, dyed red at the ends and fanned out at the back of her head, completed the image by giving her something akin to a halo.

“I’ve seen you at rehearsal, you’re perfectly suited for your role as Aphrodite. Marie made an excellent choice in casting you. Opening night should be a debut for you, of sorts.” Peca was still being stunned at this unexpected compliment from the Lady as she continued. “Was that your Mark I saw watching rehearsal today?”

“Yes.” Peca grinned.

“Are things well between you?” The subtext was “Is he showing any signs of jealousy?” and Peca shook her head slightly before catching herself and nodding. She had yet to fully acclimate herself to the habit of easily holding two conversations at once.

“Everything’s great. He enjoyed the show and said he can’t wait for opening night-” She was about to say more but something in the Lady’s eyes stopped her.

“Are you bringing Mark to opening night?” Peca wasn’t sure how she was going to explain this to him. She shook her head and replied with a soft “no”.

“That’s a wise choice, Peca.” Her expression hadn’t changed, but her eyes softened and she leaned forward to place a kiss on Peca’s forehead. “I’d like to see more of your work. Marie told me what a help you have been with this production, and I think perhaps it’s time you proposed a production. After this is all over,” she waved her hand “we will talk. I’d better let you get to work. I may be at the rehearsal tonight.” With a warm smile and a swish of her skirts she was walking away.