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The city was a beast, its nocturnal heart pounding with a rhythm that was both seductive and savage. Grace knew this rhythm intimately. It was the soundtrack to her life, a relentless beat that drove her to work, survive, and protect.

"Call it love and devotion

Call it a mom's adoration, foundation

A special bond of creation, ha

For all the single moms out there

Goin' through frustration

Clean Bandit, Sean da Paul

Anne-Marie, sing, make them hear."

She was a chameleon, shifting between identities with the ease of a seasoned actor. By day, she was a waitress at a greasy spoon, her smile plastered as she served coffee and eggs to the morning rush. By night, she transformed into a creature of the twilight, a dancer in a world of neon lights and manufactured desire.

Pole dancing was not a choice. It was a necessity. The money was good, too good to ignore. Regardless, with every grind and twist, a part of her withered. She hated the leering eyes, the crude comments, and the way men reduced her to nothing more than a body. But she endured by making her mind a fortress against the onslaught of degradation.

For Sean, her six-year-old son, she was everything. His world revolved around her, a tiny sun in her galaxy. During the day, she was the playful, patient mother, building castles of cardboard boxes and reading stories until his eyelids grew heavy. She was the absent figure, a ghost in the periphery of his dreams at night.

The guilt was a constant companion. She knew she was failing him, exposing him to a world she wished he had never acknowledged. But there was no other way. She had tried everything: cleaning houses, babysitting, even selling her hair. Nothing had been enough. The bills piled up like an insurmountable mountain, threatening to bury her and Sean. Thus, she danced, endured, and hoped for a brighter future.

"She works the nights by the water

She's gone astray, so far away

From her father's daughter

She just wants a life for her baby

All on her own, no one will come

She's got to save him."

Sean was a bright, curious boy, full of questions and laughter. He was oblivious to the darkness that crept into his mother's eyes when she returned home in the early morning. To him, she was a superhero capable of anything.

One evening, as Grace was preparing to leave for work, Sean tugged at her hand. His eyes were wide with a childlike wonder when asking, "Mommy, can I come with you?"

Her heart shattered into a million pieces. How could she expose her son to that world? Yet, she could not bear the sight of the disappointment in his eyes.

"Maybe another time, sweetheart," she lied, kissing his forehead.

As she drove away, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Sean was standing by the window, his figure a silhouette against the fading light. Her throat tightened. She realized she was a coward sacrificing her son's innocence for a life of uncertainty.

"She tells him, "Ooh, love

No one's ever gonna hurt you, love

I'm gonna give you all of my love

Nobody matters like you."

She tells him, "Your life

Ain't gon' be nothin' like my life

You're gonna grow and have a good life

I'm gonna do what I've got to do.""

The club was a sensory overload. The music pounded in Grace's ears, the lights flashed in her eyes, and the bodies pressed against her. She moved through the routine mechanically, her mind a million miles away. She thought of Sean, safe in bed, dreaming of princesses and dragons.

A particularly obnoxious customer grabbed her hand, his eyes burning with a predatory gleam. She wrenched her hand free, her voice cold. "Keep your hands to yourself," she hissed.

The man laughed, his arrogance undeterred. "Come on, sugar, lighten up. You are killing the mood."

Her anger flared. She was about to retaliate when a voice cut through the noise, "Leave her alone."

It was a tall, imposing man, his eyes cold as ice. The customer hesitated, then backed away, muttering about a bad day.

Grace turned to the man, her heart pounding. He was a stranger, a knight in shining armor in a sea of predators. She managed a weak smile, "Thank you."

He nodded, his gaze unwavering. "You should not have to put up with that."

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. She did not need a savior, she thought. She just needed a way out.

As the night wore on, the man kept an eye on her. He did not approach her again, but his presence was a silent shield, protecting her from the worst of the predatory crowd.

Grace emerged, disoriented, from the stifling confines of the club into the refreshing embrace of the cool, nocturnal breeze. The city was different now, quieter, more vulnerable. She felt exposed, like a wounded animal.

The man was waiting for her. He offered to give her a ride home. Grace hesitated, then nodded. As they drove, they talked, and the man introduced himself as Luke, a writer researching the nightlife. He was kind, intelligent, and surprisingly gentle.

As they pulled up to her apartment building, she felt regretful. She did not want the night to end. But she also knew that she could not let it go any further. She was a single mother with a son to protect.

"Thank you for everything," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

He smiled, "You are welcome. Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

She forced a smile, replying, "Maybe."

She felt an unexplained calm as his car's red tail lights faded into the night. It was an unusual moment for Grace. It was like someone had finally recognized and understood her.

Inside her apartment, Sean was sleeping soundly. She tiptoed to his room, her heart filled with a love so deep it ached. She sat on the edge of his bed, watching him sleep. He was her everything, her reason for living. Grace vowed to find a way out of this. For Sean, she would become a phoenix, rising from the ashes of her despair. She would be more than just a survivor. She would be a conqueror.

"So rockabye, baby, rockabye

I'm gonna rock you

Rockabye, baby, don't you cry

Somebody's got you

Rockabye, baby, rockabye

I'm gonna rock you

Rockabye, baby, don't you cry

Rockabye."

The days that followed were a blur of exhaustion and hope. Grace clung to the memory of Luke's kindness, a small flame in the darkness. She started writing, pouring her heart into stories that were both an escape and a reflection of her reality. Her words were raw and filled with the pain and resilience of a woman fighting to survive.

She sent her stories to a few literary magazines, her expectations low. To her astonishment, one of them accepted her work. The payment was meager, but it was a star. A tiny seed bursting with potential and promise had started growing.

Meanwhile, she was determined to find a way out of the club. She started taking night classes in writing, hoping to turn her passion into a career. It was challenging to juggle school, work, and motherhood, but her fierce determination kept her going.

Sean was her rock. He was oblivious to their financial struggles, his world filled with dinosaurs, superheroes, and endless questions. Grace cherished these moments, these stolen glimpses of childhood innocence.

"Single mom, how you doin' out there?

Facing the hard life without no fear

Just so you know that you really care

'Cause any obstacle come, you're well prepared

And no, mama, you never shed tear

'Cause you haffi shed things year after year

And you give the yout love beyond compare

You find his school fee and the bus fare

Mm, already pops disappear

Inna rum bar, can't find him nowhere

Steadily your work flow heavily, you know

So you nah stop, no time, no time for ya dear."

One evening, as she was tucking Sean into bed, he looked up at her with big, curious eyes. Then, he asked, "Mommy, why do you work at night?"

Her heart ached. How could she explain without scaring Sean? "I work to ensure you have everything you need, sweetheart," she said softly. "I work to make sure you are safe and happy."

He nodded, satisfied with her answer. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you too, my little star," she replied, kissing his forehead.

As she drifted off to sleep, she thought about Luke. She wondered if he would call if he were just a fleeting encounter or the beginning of something more. The thought of an ordinary life, where she did not have to hide, filled her with a longing she had not felt in years.

After months, her writing career finally gained some momentum. Grace had managed to land a few freelance gigs, and her stories were starting to get noticed. The money was still scarce, but it was enough to cover Sean's school fees and needs.

One day, she received an email that changed everything. A small publishing house was interested in publishing her short story collection. It was a dream come true. With the advance, she could finally quit her job at the club.

The day she gave her notice was bittersweet. She felt a strange sense of liberation and also a pang of fear. She was stepping into the unknown, but this was for Sean.

"Now she got a six-year-old

Tryin' to keep him warm

Tryin' to keep out the cold

When he looks in her eyes

He don't know he is safe when she says

"Ooh, love

No one's ever gonna hurt you, love

I'm gonna give you all of my love

Nobody matters like you.""

The transition was not easy. The regular income from the club had been a safety net, no matter how precarious. Now, she was living on hope and determination. There were days when fear crept in, whispering doubts in her ear. But she refused to let it consume her.

She started writing full-time, pouring her heart and soul into her work. She wrote about motherhood, love, loss, and the resilience of the human spirit. Her stories resonated with readers, and her fan base grew steadily.

While working at her computer one evening, she heard a knock at the door. It was Luke. He looked different, more mature, with a hint of weariness in his eyes.

"I saw your book," he said, holding a copy. "It is incredible."

Grace was speechless. She invited him in, her heart pounding. They talked for hours, catching up on each other's lives. Luke had left his job as a writer and was now working as a social worker, helping troubled youth.

As the night wore on, they found themselves drawn to each other. It was as if the years had melted away, leaving only the raw connection they had shared that night at the club.

When it was time for Luke to leave, he hesitated. "I would like to see you again," he said softly.

Grace smiled. "Me too."

Watching him walk away, Grace felt a sense of hope she had not encountered in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, she was finally on the path to a different kind of life filled with love, stability, and endless possibilities.

"No, oh

Rockabye, rocka-rocka-rocka-bye

Rockabye, yeah, yeah

Rockabye, rocka-rocka-rocka-bye

Rockabye, don't bother cry

Lift up your head, lift it up to the sky, yo

Rockabye, don't bother cry

Angels surround you, just dry your eye."