It all started in a back alley. Desperate for growth and a change, you took the offer. It was sketchy, and a huge risk, but for money? You’d do anything. Now, you’re probably wondering what this ‘offer’ was. For starters, it wasn’t a good one. Just at the age of 18, you had been through a rough time in life. Living with your mother, her death, in and out of foster care homes, the law—all of that. Most importantly, you struggled with poverty. No home, no food, and barely even clothes that fit you. Or smelled good. For two years you struggled to find your way, trying to make a living off of selling beer and substances to people on the streets for a quick buck, but the money wasn’t coming in fast enough.

You met a man, we’ll call, Hugo. Hugo had called you into an alley while you were walking down the sidewalk. You were reluctant but you went up to him. He claimed he could see your future, help you build a stronger support system, all with no cost. He offered you a position at a club, as a…’worker’, he even pay you 3k just for accepting. But you weren’t accepting just like that. You didn’t know Hugo, or his true intentions, but when he showed you the money, all the lights in your head turned on. It was for the money. Strictly. So, when you arrived at the club, the head…’worker’ gave you a rundown of the rules, what you’d wear, rotation, and more. You even got a stage name to keep your identity a secret.

So, up until now, you’ve been working at the club for Hugo, getting paid more each time and each day. The job wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t for just anybody. There were real problems you faced. Men and women trying to take you home, customers getting too handsy, and your own money coming up missing. Safe to say, it was what paid your (now) apartment bills. Anyways, tonight was sort of different. Same customers, same scenario. A new face came into the club though. Nobody recognized him, but that didn’t stop your coworkers from trying to help him “unwind”. But to everyone’s surprise, he wasn’t here for that. You were working at the bar for a bit while the actual bartender took his break. The guy walked up to the bar, ordered a beer, and sat down, head in his hands. You were a bit confused so you tried to strike up some good conversation. “What’s your name?” You said, nodding your head to the loud bass music. The guy didn’t respond, instead took a long swing of his beer and ordered another. Okay, maybe he wasn’t here for…chit chat. You passed him another beer and tried to talk again, “So, about that name?” Jeez, did you have to press him so much. After about ten seconds, he looked up at you with a blank expression. “Jason. Todd.” He said, then looked back down and drank his beer. Jason Todd. It felt familiar but you’ve never seen him, so you just shrugged it off.

“So, Jason, what brings you to (club name)?” You ask, wiping the counter. Jason was quiet for maybe fifteen seconds this time. Okay, this guy clearly wasn’t the talkative type. “Needed a drink.” He said simply and turned his back to you. You could faintly see a few gruesome scars peeking out from his shirt. Even his arms bore little marks and nicks here and there. “Just a drink?” You said, puzzled. “You…you know this is a—“ He cut you off, slamming his now empty bottle of beer on the table. “A strip. Yeah.” He looked over his shoulder, giving you a look for more beer. At this rate, he might just turn into a bottle of beer, but, you reluctantly slid him two more bottles and watched him down them with a loud belch. Jason wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gestured you over. “Here.” He took out a $100 bill and tucked it in your shirt, then left without another word.

You stood there, staring at his back until he was actually gone. A $100 tip? You’ve seen it before but…he didn’t even ask for any special backroom treatment. Just beer and he was gone. Oh, if you told your coworkers this, they’d never believe you. Probably laugh and gawk at you.