Reyna slowly sat up, touching her forehead gingerly. She gripped at the air as the room spun wildly. Someone hurried past her, and she pushed herself to her feet. "Daddy?" She looked around slowly. "Daddy. Where are you?" There was no reply. The room continued to rotate and she grabbed a nearby counter. Someone pushed her away with an eye roll. She shivered then, and noticed she was naked. Where had her clothes gone? She frowned and picked up a bra, turning it over in her hands. Yes, this was hers. She pulled it halfway on and continued to stumble through the confusion. Music pounded in her head, muffled by her state. Colors flashed bright and offensive. She squinted. "Daddy?" She pushed a random guy away as he groped at her breast. He scowled. "I would call you a prude but obviously you're not." He shoved her slightly, as a show of irritation, but in her weak haze, she fell back to the floor. She curled up in a ball, then rolled to her hands and knees. She wretched for a few minutes before crawling away from the puddle of alcohol and bile she had forced from her angry stomach. She wrapped her fingers around a cool metal pole and pulled herself into a standing position. She blinked at the faint sound of a few cheers. "Go on, show them what you've got." She looked around frantically, recognizing her father's voice. "Daddy!" He laughed at her. "Go on, Reyna." She looked at the pole in front of her and frowned. "Daddy... I don't feel good. I want to go home." "Shut up. Just get on the pole." She felt her lip tremble and looked around again as the crowd began to boo. "Daddy. I just want to go home. Please. I want to... go... go home." "Stop complaining and do what I brought you here to do." She slowly wrapped a leg around the pole as tears formed rivulets down her cheeks. She rubbed against it and continued a small routine as her audience cheered. She stared at her dad sadly. Why wouldn't he take her home?