I'm in Love with a Stripper (a One Direction Fanfiction)

After the tragic loss of her parents, Leila Karim abandons her life in Bradford and sets her sights on London. Working as a stripper at Victory Strip Club under the stage name Bambi, ex-best friend and pop superstar Zayn Malik is the last person Leila expected to be sitting in the audience watching her undress. Will Leila find herself falling for Zayn all over again or will cheeky Harry Styles win her heart instead?

168Likes
161Comments
38437Views
AA

6. Tainted Love

I’m in Love with a Stripper:

Tainted Love

 

Zayn’s P.O.V:

 

I was leaning against the damp brick wall in the alleyway behind Victory smoking a cigarette. Inhaling the hot smoke, I leaned my head back, closing my eyes as I exhaled. I had to talk to Leila about what had happened between us but what I didn’t know was what I planned on saying. The scene in the limousine had been playing on repeat in my head for the past two days and had been driving me completely mad. I was scared to admit it to myself, the feelings I was having for Leila, the jealousy I felt when I saw her with Harry, the urge to protect her, to touch her.

 

Taking another drag of my cigarette, I thought back to the last time I had seen her at Capital FM, clad in her batman shirt with Harry’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Leila being with Harry…bothered me. Each time Harry pulled out his phone, a small smile on his face, I knew it was Leila who he was texting, sharing a private joke, trading stories of their days, talking about what they’d be doing later, or what they had already done. I shook my head. I doubt it had gotten so serious yet. The fact that Leila had kissed me back spoke for itself.

 

Smirking to myself, I remembered the very public revelation of Leila’s hickey, which she had attempted to hide strategically with a scarf. Little did Harry know that it wasn’t him who was responsible for it, but me. The best part of it all had to be the private look that Leila and I shared after the display, letting me know that she certainly had not forgotten what had happened.

 

Tossing the butt of the cigarette onto the cold cement floor, I snuffed it out with the bottom of my shoe. Adjusting my dark sunglasses on my face, I pried open the back door of Victory, slipping into the club. I had decided to avoid the front entrance of the club just in case photographers or fans were mulling around.

 

My eyes quickly adjusted to the dark setting of Victory, drenched in hues of dark red and black. I quietly made my way to the reception desk where a blonde woman sat behind it. Recognizing her, I realized it was Peaches, or Tyrannosaurus-tits as Louis had so fondly and accurately nicknamed her. Peaches had the phone glued to her ear, scribbling furiously in what looked like an appointment book.

 

“Alright we’ll see you then Mr. Martin.” Peaches snapped her gum. “Yes, you too. Have a lovely evening.” Hanging up the phone, she leaned her blonde head onto one hand, taking me in from top to bottom. I squirmed uncomfortably.

 

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Peaches grinned, still chewing her gum loudly.

 

“Uh, I’m here to book a private dance.” I told her quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear me.

 

“Alright.” Peaches said, licking her finger and flipping through the pages of the appointment book. “Was this for today?” She looked up at me quizzically.

 

“Yes it is, and I had a girl in mind actually.” I said, trying to see what she was scribbling.

 

“Oh, do you now?” She said flirtatiously, blowing a bubble with her gum.

 

I flinched as it popped loudly. “Yeah, she goes by Bambi, I believe.”

 

“Bambi?” Peaches snapped, taken aback. She had assumed it was her.

 

“Yeah, she’s about this tall.” I raised my hand to just below my shoulder. “Tanned skin, black hair, dark brown eyes, beautiful-” I continued to effortlessly describe Leila.

 

Peaches cut me off. “Bambi is a bit young, about your age actually. Are you sure you don’t want someone a tad more…experienced?” She said, leaning forward and heavily accentuating her enormous bosom.

 

My eyes widened in shock. Looking away quickly, I nodded. “I’m sure.”

 

“Suit yourself.” Peaches said dismissively, scribbling more aggressively onto the page this time.

 

“Your name?” She looked up at me expectantly.

 

I wracked my mind for a name. “Uh, Paul Higgins.” I blurted out, inwardly kicking myself after I said it. Of all names, I chose my tour manager’s. Genius.

 

Sorry Paul. I apologized to him silently.

 

“Alright,” Peaches stated, her attitude business-like. “And how will you be paying?”

 

“Cash.” I told her, pulling out my bursting wallet from my back pocket. This way there would be no trail leading back to me. But then again, that possibility had gone out the window when I had stupidly said my name was Paul Higgins.

 

“That will be 500 pounds.” She told me.

 

Nodding, I handed her the amount. It was a good thing I had stopped by the bank before hand.

 

“Thank-you.” She said, counting the bills and slipping them into a drawer. “Right, you can head down that hallway and go into the second booth. Bambi should be there shortly.”

 

“Thanks.” I said turning towards the hallway quickly. God she was scary.

 

“Oh, and Paul.” I heard Peaches call after me by my fake name.

 

Back stiffened, I turned slowly to face her again.

 

“Yeah?” I asked through a forced smile.

 

“If you ever decide that you prefer a woman and not a little girl, you know where to find me.” She concluded, winking.

 

Nodding, I hurriedly departed, walking speedily down the hallway. Locating the second booth, I pulled the heavy red curtains back. Walking in I pulled them closed behind me, relieved to be away from tyrannosaurus-tits. Taking off my sunglasses, I could make out the silhouette of a chair in the distance. Carefully, I walked over to it. Sitting down, I began to grow nervous. There was no doubt in my mind that Leila would be furious with me for coming here, but it wasn’t as if she had given me a choice. I had absolutely no way of contacting her. She had no house phone and I had already tried showing up to her apartment before, failing miserably. I had attempted to take her cell phone number from Harry’s phone, but that proved to be quite difficult since it was on him at all times.

 

I was drawn from my thoughts as a spotlight flashed on, shining onto the unmistakable form of Leila. Clad in everything red, she had her back to me and her hand clenched tightly around her pole, leaving me in disbelief that this was Leila, my Leila; the same Leila who I had gone to the comic book store with, who wore baggy jeans, who I never truly saw.

 

Did I grab her attention now? I wanted to, but something stopped me. The music then began, a mixture of electric guitar and synthesizers, and it was too late.

 

Sometimes I feel I've got to

Run away I've got to

Get away

From the pain that you drive into the heart of me

The love we share

Seems to go nowhere

I've lost my lights

I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

 

Leila swayed her hips, walking in a delicate circle around her pole. Her dark curls flowed behind her as she began to twirl faster, lifting herself off the ground. Suddenly, the spotlight flashed on, shining on me; however Leila did not look up like I expected her to. Her eyes trained on the floor, she began to saunter towards me.

 

Now I know I've got to

Run away I've got to

Get away

You don't really want any more from me

To make things right

You need someone to hold you tight

You think love is to pray

I'm sorry I don't pray that way

 

“Leila!” I tried calling over the music, but it was too loud.

 

A meter away from me, she bent down directly in front of me, pulling her hands up her thighs slowly. I tried to look away, but couldn’t. I wanted to spin her around, wanted to kiss her painted red lips, wanted her in ways I never had before.

 

Once I ran to you (I ran)

Now I'll run from you

This tainted love you've given

I give you all a boy could give you

Take my tears and that's not nearly all

Tainted love

Tainted love

 

Suddenly, Leila turned back to me, planting herself on my lap just as she had done two nights before in the limousine. This caused me to jump slightly out of shock. Looking up at me finally, she gasped, her hands flying over her chest and her eyes wide as she fell off my lap, hitting the ground with a thud. She was going to be livid with me. Jumping up from my chair, I offered her my hand. Slapping it away, she stood on her own and brushed herself off angrily.

 

Glaring at me harshly, she suddenly spun around, walking into the darkness. A moment later, the music shut off.

 

Leila reappeared into the light. “What are you doing here, Zayn?” She said quietly, surprisingly calm, not looking into my eyes.

 

I breathed deeply. “I wanted to talk to you.” The words tumbled out of my mouth.

 

Leila crossed her arms across her chest. “You couldn’t have rung me?”

 

“You know very well that I don’t have your number.” I told her, narrowing my eyes.

 

She ignored me. “So what is this pressing thing that you came all the way here to address?” She stared at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

 

I paused before answering, closing my eyes momentarily. “I wanted to talk to you,” I cleared my throat. “About what happened in the limo.”

 

Leila took a step back from me, breathing in deeply. “What happened is that we were both very drunk.” Leila said harshly. “That is all.”

 

Taking a step forward, I was inches away from her. Brushing her dark hair over her shoulder, she froze in place as I delicately ran my fingers over the hickeys I had left on her neck, unable to stop myself from doing so.

 

“I knew what I was doing.” I whispered, causing her eyes to widen.

 

She backed away from me again. “All that matters is that I’m with Harry.”

 

“Yes,” I said firmly. “But do you want to be with Harry?” I stepped closer to her, determined to find out, determined to understand what she was doing to me.

 

Leila began to panic. “Of-of course I do!” She stammered. She was lying, she had to be.

 

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than you’re trying to convince me.” I said, my tone accusing.

 

“I don’t have to convince anyone! I love him!” She screamed bitterly, her eyes beginning to tear up.

 

The silence around us was deafening. Leila looked down at the ground, swallowing hard. My ears began to ring.

 

She loved him? She loved him. No matter which way I said it in my head, it didn’t sound right.

 

I finally rediscovered the ability to speak. “Oh.” I said, shocked at what she said, but more shocked at how what she said made me feel. I felt a deep pang in my chest, my stomach plummeting through the floor.    

 

“Right then.” I nodded to myself slowly.

 

Leila’s eyes were still glued to the ground. Looking at her one last time, I headed towards the doorway. Pushing the curtains to the side roughly, I made my way down the hallway without looking back.

 

As I passed by the front desk, I could hear Peaches calling me. “Paul!” I ignored her.  

 

Not caring if anyone saw me, I exiting the club from the front. Walking into the frigid evening, I put a cigarette between my lips and began searching wildly for the nearest bar.

 

Leila’s P.O.V:

 

Zayn’s angry footsteps echoed down the hallway, and then could no longer be heard. I wiped the tears that were now spilling down my face with my fingers. He had ambushed me, cornered me hoping that I would declare my love for him, hand him my heart like I did before so he could crush it all over again or at least what was left of it. Who did he think he was? Besides, I was completely content, happy with Harry. He made me laugh, made me feel wanted. Zayn was just jealous, angry that I wasn’t fawning over him, the self-absorbed bastard.

 

As I headed back towards my dressing room, I saw Peaches glaring at me from the corner of my eye, munching loudly on a carrot stick. Turning to look at her, she quickly diverted her eyes.

 

I furrowed my eyebrows as I observed her. “Is something the matter?” I asked her in the most unfriendly tone I could muster.

 

“No, no. Nothing.” Peaches said, casting her eyes downwards.

 

“Whatever.” I said, rolling my eyes heavily, continuing on my merry way and turning the corner.

 

Shutting the door of my dressing room behind me, I sighed deeply, some privacy at last. Slipping into my silk robe, I collapsed onto the red Victorian styled sofa I had used in the performance where I had first seen Harry and Zayn.

 

I knew what I was doing.” Zayn had said as he brushed my hair behind my shoulder. The statement made me both nervous and angry. What did he mean that he knew what he was doing? Knew that he was trying to drive me completely insane? My blood ran hot at my next thought. Or he knew what he was doing as in he wanted to be doing it? I dismissed this thought instantly. What Zayn had asked me next was if I wanted to be with Harry. It was so obvious to me now, Zayn wanted to know for sure that I was not leading Harry on or using him, that I did love him. It had nothing to do with him at all. Zayn didn’t come here to see if I loved him, he came here to see if I loved Harry.

 

I cringed, remembering what I had so thoughtlessly yelled out. “I don’t have to convince anyone! I love him!”

 

I lied.” I whispered to myself, dropping my head into my hands. 

 

What was there not to love about Harry Styles? His sparkling green eyes and contagious smile, his vulgar sense of humour, his ability to make me forget all about my past and most of all his ability to make me feel wanted were a few things I could name. I liked Harry and adored Harry, but I did not love Harry…yet. We had only been dating for such a short time, still getting to know each other, still getting through that period of learning. I didn’t love Harry now, but I knew that one day soon I will wake up, wondering how I didn’t love him right from the start.

 

Zayn’s P.O.V:

 

Flipping open my cell phone, I saw that it was 4:56 AM. I was sitting at the bus terminal, waiting for my bus to Bradford to arrive. It was cold; even though I was clad in a heavy winter coat with a grey beanie pulled over my ears and of course a pair of sunglasses to hide my face. It was unlikely that I’d be running into any fans at this time of the morning. Reaching into my coat, I pulled out the flask I had hidden from view. Taking a quick swig, I scrunched my face as the whiskey stung my lips.

 

After a few drinks at the bar, I had returned to my flat, finding a well sized duffle bag to stuff as much as I could into it. As I had promised my Mum, I would be returning to Bradford for a visit. Although the visit might be fueled by my anger, it was still a visit, and most of all I did need a break; a break from One Direction, from fame, from management, from touring, from my obsession with Leila. How had I not thought of the idea myself?

 

*

 

“Bradford, East Bowling!” The bus driver yelled, startling me awake. I groaned quietly, my head throbbing. Waking up hung over was starting to become an everyday thing for me.

 

Struggling to my feet, I wearily grabbed my duffle bag from the overhead compartment. Making my way down the aisle, I saw that I had been the only one left on the bus, the previously occupied seats completely vacant.

 

“Took you long enough to wake up!” The bus driver, a middle-aged man with a strong accent spat harshly as he examined me in his rearview mirror.

 

“Sorry, I’m a deep sleeper.” I mumbled to him. I snored occasionally too.

 

“If deep means not breathing, then sure you are.” The bus driver shook his head, flicking the switch to open the doors.

 

Clambering out of the bus, I stepped into the pouring rain. The sky was grey and it looked to be about late afternoon. I was finally home. Looking around at my familiar surroundings, it felt so strange to be back where I was, back before everything had changed so drastically. Crossing onto the wet cobblestone sidewalk, I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder, curiously observing the old stores I used to frequent as I walked along. In Bradford, you had to keep your guard up, something I wasn’t used to doing recently having had mounds of security at my disposal. There had been attacks, riots, rapes and everything else under the sun, the majority of it blamed on racial tension, but really rooting back to the lack of jobs and money due to the recession. I had been lucky to get out, but not everyone had been as lucky as I was.

 

Heading up hill, I found myself on Fenby Avenue, crossing past the deserted playground of Lower Fields Primary, the school that both Leila and I had attended when we were younger. Squinting my eyes against the rain, I could see the swings where Leila and I had sat on the night where she had told me her feelings and I had proceeded to crush them. Sighing, I pushed Leila out of my mind. Thinking of her and what she had confessed to me at Victory was just going to make me want to drown myself in whatever was left in my flask. But as hard as I tried, it was still there, eating away at the back of my mind.

 

I love him!” Leila had said vehemently, looking right into my eyes as she had said it.

 

Turning onto Margate Road, I made my way towards the second house on the left, my home. Approaching the painted red door, I knocked on it loudly. A few inaudible yells could be heard inside when the door finally swung open, my youngest sister Doniya having opened it.

 

“Hi Doni.” I said, smiling at her, her face lighting up at the sight of me.

 

“Zayn!” She threw her arms around me. “I thought you were leaving on tour!”

 

“I leave in three days, so I thought I’d come visit before I left.” I told her, squeezing her back. “Go on, tell Mum I’m here.”

 

With this, Doniya went running towards the kitchen screaming. “MUM! ZAYN’S BACK!” 

 

Chuckling, I closed the door behind me just as my Mother rushed out of the kitchen.

 

“You’re here!” She yelped. “Oh Zayn, darling I wasn’t sure if you were going to come!” She took me into her arms.

 

“Of course I was going to!” I smiled. “Family comes first after all.”

 

My Mum observed my eye thoughtfully, shaking her head. “It looks like it’s healed a bit since those pictures were taken.” She said, referring to my black eye.

 

“Still hurts like hell though.” I told her, smirking.

 

Letting go of me, she rolled her eyes. “Dinner should be ready soon enough, why don’t you go say hello to Waliyha and Saffa meanwhile?”

 

“Come on Zayn we have lots to catch up on!” Doniya said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the lounge, where I’d likely be interrogated for hours about my band mates and if they were single or not.

 

*

 

After dinner, I was sprawled across my bed, observing my room in bewilderment. It seemed so small compared to before, so distant. It had been six months since I was last home, but even then my room didn’t feel like it was quite mine anymore. I guess that went with the territory of traveling the world and only having hotel rooms to call home.

 

I turned my head when I heard my bedroom door creak open, my Mother walking in. Sitting on the side of my bed, she patted my knee gently.

 

“What’s been troubling you, love?” She asked me after a few moments of silence, her eyes observing me thoughtfully.

 

I began to rub my eyes. “It’s hard to explain…” I trailed off, confused myself at what it exactly was, only knowing that it had everything to do with Leila’s reappearance back into my life.

 

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” My Mother smiled, corking one of her eyebrows upwards.

 

I closed my eyes, unwilling to answer her, not sure how to answer myself.

 

“Do you like her?” She asked playfully, grinning.

 

“What’s with all the weird questions!?” I snapped, burying my face into one of my pillows, embarrassed.

 

“It’s not weird to be concerned about your son!” My Mother replied dramatically.

 

Yes it is.” I told her, the pillow muffling my voice. She was being more nosy than usual. She could certainly tell something was up.

 

“Fine.” She changed the subject. “Now I found this in a box of your old things, and Saffa was wondering if she could have it? I don’t see why you’d need it anyhow; it’s for a girl…”  

 

Looking up from my pillow to see what she was referring to, I was stunned to see in the palm of my Mother’s outreached hand was the locket, Leila’s locket.

 

I snatched it out of her hand. “That’s mine!” I said, still astonished at the locket’s appearance. I ran my fingers over the two engraved hearts on the front, remembering pushing Leila’s long black hair to the side and securing the clasp into place.

 

flashback

 

I glanced sideways at Tracey, the girl whose affections I was currently trying to win. Tracey was blonde, blue-eyed, leggy, the embodiment of the perfect girl. She was also a complete air-head, which Leila had not failed to comment on six thousand times. I felt my stomach sink as I thought of Leila. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, not since the night at the playground when she had told me that she loved me. I still could not fathom how she had even developed such feelings in the first place. We had got on the moment we had first spoken to each other. We were kindred spirits; we were the best of friends. Why did she have to go and ruin everything by having feelings for me? I was angry with her, angry that she had put me on the spot, angry that she had given me no other choice but to stop being her friend. What else could I have done? I cared enough about her to not want to hurt her more, but in the end, I’d still be hurting her, wouldn’t I?

 

“Zayn!” Tracey snapped her fingers in front of my eyes.

 

“Hm?” I said, my eyes refocusing on Tracey’s.

 

“You completely zoned out for the past minute!” She said with a laugh.

 

Tracey threw open her locker, shuffling around in unfilled papers and binders for a text book. Leila would rather have died than have her locker in that condition. I smiled thinking back to the day when she had even gone to the lengths of organizing the contents of my locker alphabetically.

 

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” I said, the remnants of a smile still on my face.

 

“You’re planning on asking me to the dance aren’t you?” Tracey said, a slow smile spreading across her glossy lips as she slammed her locker shut.

 

“Maybe.” I answered slyly, my face suddenly falling when I saw who was also at her locker the next row down.

 

Leila had her nose stuffed into a book, my eyes recognizing the cover of her favourite classic, Wuthering Heights. Looking up, her dark eyes met with mine, a stunned expression on her face which quickly shifted to fury. She looked from me to Tracey venomously, her eyes landing on me once again in understanding of what she saw. Moving her novel to the side, she looked down at her chest at the locket I had given to her. In one swift motion, she ripped it from her neck. She held it in her hand, waving it tauntingly at me. With one last hateful look, she turned, and walked away, flinging the locket into the bin carelessly as she turned the corner. I felt my jaw drop in shock.

 

“I’m late for Maths.” Tracey said, drawing my attention back to her. “You better make up your mind, yours isn’t the only offer I’ll be getting.” She winked at me, and then departed, turning the same corner Leila had.

 

Making sure that the hallway was completely deserted, I dived for the bin, ripping the top off of it.

 

“Ugh!” I exclaimed as the foul smell of old food hit my nostrils. Reaching into the bin I scoured through its contents until I finally felt the cool metal of the locket on my fingers. Wrenching it out, I cradled it in my hands, a wave of relief washing over me that it hadn’t been lost. I stared at the two hearts, linked on the front of it, running my fingers over them.

 

Kindred spirits. I thought of Leila and I playing on the piano, sneaking samosas into French class, looking at the stars together.  

 

A lump formed in my throat. Roaring, I kicked the bin swiftly, its contents spilling everywhere.

 

*

 

“Really Zayn!” My mother exclaimed. “Calm yourself!”

 

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. It just has…” I searched for the words. “Sentimental value.”

 

My Mother looked at me with a small all knowing smile. “I’ll tell Saffa she has to go buy one from somewhere else.” No questions asked, no further pestering.

 

“Thanks Mum.” I said gratefully, returning her smile, still running my fingers over the locket absent-mindedly.

 

Silently, she slipped out of my room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and undeniable revelation. I placed the locket to my lips and closed my eyes.

 

I was in love with Leila Karim, and perhaps I always had been. 

 

A/N: Thanks for reading and please review!

Check out the accompanying tumblr for I'm in Love with a Stripper and check out music, outfits, sneak peeks, fanart, and more! iminlovewithastripperfanfiction.tumblr.com

Music:

 

Tainted Love – Marilyn Manson

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...