The Bloke (Men Under Revue #1)

7. Sienna

Chapter 7

Sienna

FIVE YEARS LATER.

“Good morning, ladies; let’s begin with two red springs and your leg circles,” I called out as I lay down on one of the empty Pilates reformers and slid my feet into the straps to join the class warm-up.

It had been five years since I dropped everything… leaving my entire life back in New York and escaping to Las Vegas. A lot can happen in five years, and it has.

The first year was rough. I managed to move all of what was left of my bank account into a new one that my parents couldn’t touch. I packed a small bag and bought a one-way ticket for the next flight out to Vegas.

When I arrived here, the first thing I did was search for a cheap place to stay. There weren’t many options, but I found a small, affordable apartment just west of the Strip. By my estimation, I had enough in my account to last me at least six months before I would have to crawl back to my parents, begging for forgiveness that I knew they wouldn’t give.

I left everything behind—my parents, Lily, and the old me.

When I stepped off that plane, I told myself I would not be the Sienna Carter of New York. I would be a new me, rebranded into the image I had always dreamed of being. Who I was deep down, and the new me didn’t give a fuck about anyone but herself.

Within the first two weeks here, I snagged a waitressing job at a small bar near my apartment complex. I made a couple of friends there, and after working tireless hours and saving every penny I made, I started my dream job.

After two years of saving, I had enough for a down payment on a small space where I could own and operate a Pilates studio.

The studio was big enough to hold twelve reformers, with a small private dance room around the corner—my sanctuary after a long day. I still danced, but no longer ballet; I was more of a freestyle dancer now, and it was just for fun, to scratch the itch. I had no intention of dancing professionally ever again.

“Five more, and switch direction,” I instructed, drawing my legs down together, then moving them out into a straddle before meeting them at the top and repeating the movement.

I’ve been running this studio for just under three years and have built a pretty decent client base over that time. The friends I made while waitressing made a big difference. One of them, a bartender, was one of my first customers, and she still stops in frequently when she isn’t busy working or stuck in classes at LVU.

“Continue with your frogs.”

I wouldn’t say my life was complete; it was far from it, but the life I started building here was more than anything I could have dreamed of having. It was fun to move to a new city where no one knows who the fuck you are, and you could be whoever you want.

I am happy to say that I am no longer the people-pleaser I left back in New York—and never will be.

The bell on the front door dinged, and I removed the reformer straps from my feet, replaced them on the pegs, and sprinted to the front of the studio.

“Switch to Peter Pans,” I called out as I approached the front desk and saw—said friend—standing there with a grin on her face.

“Chyler!” I beamed, stepping around the desk and wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. “Good to see you, girl.”

“Got a spare spot this morning?” She asked, returning the hug.

“For you? Always. Come on in.” I gestured to the open reformer and stood at the front of the room. “Grip the handles behind the shoulder rests and start moving into your towers.” I continued with instructing the class. “The harder you pull, the higher you can go, then release your spine, one vertebra at a time, keeping your legs straight as you move them down, then bend them into a tabletop position and repeat.”

When the class finished, I returned to the front desk to check the reservations for the next one. Depending on the day, I instructed four classes in the morning and three to four in the evening. Some classes had the twelve reformers full, while others had as few as three, but I loved what I did. I could have a class with only one customer and still be happy to instruct.

“As always, you kick my ass with your classes.” Chyler chuckled, stepping up beside me and wiping the sweat from her brow with a towel.

“I had planned on going easy on everyone this morning, but when you stopped in, I couldn’t resist making you suffer,” I laughed with a smirk. “This isn’t your usual class; what brings you in today? Canceled classes? When is graduation again?” I quizzed.

“No canceled classes. Graduation is next month, and thank fucking god for that.” She sighed. “I’m ready to move back to Minnesota and be closer to my sister… but I actually came by to see if you were interested in going out tonight. It’s Jessie’s birthday, and we are going to Heaven Down Under .”

“I haven’t seen Jessie in months. Is she still at the bar?” Chyler and I waited tables at the same place until one crazy busy night when she was pulled to work behind the bar and stayed there ever since. She was always sneaking us shots when things got slow. Jessie replaced me, but I stopped in often to visit Chyler, so Jessie and I became well acquainted over time.

“She is, but only like once a week. So, are you in?” I could hear the excitement in her tone. Looking over my schedule for the day, I saw my last class was at six.

“Yeah, I can make it.” I nodded in confirmation. “My last class is at six. I need to shower and change, and I can meet you two around eight?” I arched my brow, hoping that it wouldn’t be too late.

I didn’t even know when the show started. I’ve heard of Heaven Down Under but haven’t seen it myself. You’d think I would have after living here for over five years.

“Great, the show starts at nine. I’ll have Jessie book your seat at our table. This is going to be so much fun,” She beamed.

Chyler always loved chasing after hot men almost as much as me. I was surprised after all this time that she hadn’t found one to keep around longer than a couple of weeks. She wasn’t the relationship type—as I’ve been told. Unlike me, who was waiting for the right man to sweep her off her feet like a prince in a fairytale.

Chyler and I may have different perspectives on relationships, but there was one thing we did together and did well—being each other’s wingwoman. We knew how to get men and were never shy. I think that's why we always got along so well; our personalities were very similar.

“Alright, I’ll meet you at the showroom in Neon Palms by nine. There’s a bar right outside of it, right?” I’ve been to Neon Palms several times, so I was no stranger to the layout and where everything was.

“Yeah, Glow , we will meet you there. Thanks for the class,” Chyler smiled before heading out the door, and I could barely contain the excitement for tonight.

I’ve needed a girls’ night for a few weeks.

This will be a welcome break just to let loose and have some fun.

My last class wrapped up by seven, and I spent the past half hour cleaning the studio and equipment so I wouldn’t have to worry about doing it in the morning. I modified the morning schedule to start a little later than usual.

There were only two or three customers per class, and after reaching out to them, I found that they were more than happy to blend into the late morning class at eleven.

After locking the studio door, I got into my beat-up white Dodge Avenger and drove to my apartment to get ready. It wouldn’t take me long; I knew exactly what I had planned to wear; excited was a complete understatement.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped my long brunette hair in a towel and dug through my drawers for my denim booty shorts and strappy black crop top. I pulled on a black lace thong, finished dressing, and ran into the bathroom to do my make-up.

I went with a dark brown smokey eye, a champagne shimmer on the lids, a black liner on my waterline, and a bright pink lip matching my heels. The contrast between the dark brown makeup and my black top made the pink pop even more. It was my favorite outfit and look for partying.

Hearing my phone chime, I stepped back into the bedroom and picked it up from the dresser.

Chyler: We are at Glow; see you soon!

If they were already drinking now, I would have some catching up to do by the time I arrived.

Me: Order me a few pink Starburst shots!

They were my favorite. Sweet, sour, and fruity. It was also my favorite candy. However, there are nights when I prefer fireball and hot tamales.

Chyler: Done!

I ran back into the bathroom to style my hair into rough beach waves. I had thick hair that landed just above my lower back. My hair was shorter when I was dancing back in New York because putting it up in a tight bun all of the time was a pain in the ass, but now that I could have it down or up in a messy bun, I try to keep it as long as possible.

With my hair styled, I grab my black and white Kate Spade purse from my bed before sliding on my heels and making a beeline for the door. I took one last look at myself in the full-length mirror by the door as I pulled out my phone to call a Lyft.

I was every part of the woman I had dreamed of being.

Now, I just needed the man to go with it, and I wasn’t getting any younger.