Chapter 1
“Welcome to the stage, Cowboy Connor!”
Cheers mixed with the dramatic lighting above the stage, moving in zigzags as I started stomping down the stage in the cowboy getup I’d been plagued to wear every night for the past couple months. As was typical, I let my mind wander while I started gyrating my hips once I grabbed the metal pole fortified at the end of the stage. Being a stripper had its perks, i.e. the money. But even beyond that, I never really felt bothered that people were objectifying me for my body. As long as my bills stayed paid, I could really give a shit.
So much of my life had changed in the past couple months that I was feeling very…I don’t know. Unsupported, maybe? That was ridiculous though. Just because Bas had recently moved out of our apartment a week ago didn’t mean that he stopped being in my corner. My heart knew that. My head was a different story.
I heard the musical cues shift, telling me that it was about time to rip off my tearaway chaps to reveal my cowboy themed underwear. Before I’d debuted this routine and it had become a fan favorite, I’d never known that underwear could be fringed.It did look good on me, showing off the ass I worked hard to maintain. I only wished I hadn’t pigeonholed myself intoonlydoing this routine.
Dancing was my escape. Now that Bas was living with Kroven, his sangamar boyfriend who needed to consume blood to continue breathing, I was on my own. Or I should have been. I was Bas’ number one fan, so I was over the moon for him that he was happy with his Orb boyfriend. But it had been a week since he’d moved out, which meant it was time for me to deal with the fact that my estranged twin brother had moseyed into town unannounced.
I wasn’t ready to deal with Troian. We had a very tumultuous and tricky past, one I wasn’t readily available to face. Even though I had a million questions for him about what the fuck he was doing in Piper, I’d been able to skirt around letting him come by the apartment since Bas had moved out. I feared that my allotted time in dodging it was coming to a quick end.
The lights above me shifted again and I pulled off my chaps to reveal my fringed jock, turning my ass to the crowd as they hollered loudly and obscenely. I was far from an amateur here at Downpour, and our clientele was almost entirely male Orbs looking to indulge in the classic human fantasies that usually dealt with stereotyped outfits. Hence the cowboy getup.
After I let the crowd gawk at my ass for a few beats, I swung my body back on the metallic pole, careful not to catch my bare skin on it now that I was wearing considerably less. My brain went on autopilot again as I worked on finishing the rest of my routine.
I was so glad I was off tomorrow. Maybe I could escape the city, get out of town so I could keep avoiding Troian. But then again, if I kept avoiding him, I knew that I’d eventually have to see what he was doing here and how long he was planning on staying. He’d already checked up on me twice since Bas moved out, asking to talk. The messages had remained unopened andunresponsive intentionally. I sighed inwardly. Maybe just getting it the fuck over with would make me feel better.
Another reason I was feeling out of sorts was because I’d been thinking about going back to grief group. With Bas leaving, my best friend and greatest crutch was halfway across town. And with Troian showing up in Piper out of fucking nowhere, I thought maybe going back would be a good idea. They’d been instrumental in me processing and grieving the death of my parents, and that’s where I’d first met Bas in the first place. While I was trying to sort out all the change afflicting my life, going back to the place that had helped me regulate myself didn’t seem like the worst idea.
I hit my mark just as the music crescendoed and ended, turning my head over my shoulder to watch the crowd. Playfully, I reached behind myself and smacked my ass for them, the audience going insane and loudly hollering for it. A smirk danced along my lips as the heat of the lights faded out, the end of my set finally arriving. I heard the announcer queueing up the next performer as I strode back across the stage to the way I’d entered, down the small steps that was hidden behind the curtain.
Stepping down into the employees only area behind the scenes, my boss came sauntering over to me. It wasn’t unusual for her to come backstage and congratulate the performers as they did their routines, but she’d just done that to me last night, so my nerves were on red alert as she approached me.
The owner of Downpour was a tall order of a brunette woman, looking both soft because of her features as well as intimidating because of the emerald green pant suit she always wore, complete with purple embellishment jewelry consisting of gold earrings, a purple snake brooch, and a series of necklaces that just somehow worked. As one of the very few straight performers, I was part of a small subject of employees that found Evangeline hot as hell. But I never mixed businessand pleasure unless I was getting paid a hell of a lot more money.
“Cowboy Connor,” She said to me with a simple grin. Connor was my performer name, the cowboy getting added after my routine had taken off with the customers. “Excellent as always.”
“Thanks, Evie.” When she didn’t leave, I got the hint that I’d been right earlier: she wasn’t just there to say ‘good job, champ’. Sighing, I crossed my arms. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” She giggled sharply, replacing her laugh with an even sharper look of guided intent. “You’ve been requested in one of the private suites.”
Eyebrows knitting confusion, I turned my head away from her in the direction of the obscured crowd. I never got requested. Ever. Plus, I didn’t exactly want to dance privately for anyone. That wasn’t something I was interested in. But clearly my routine was taking off even more if people were now requesting a private dance from me. I wasn’t sure I liked where Cowboy Connor’s attention was headed.
“But I don’t do private requests.” I said matter of factly.
We had private areas within the club, but they weren’t exactly what I would considerprivate. They were more like VIP areas separated by a curtain that could be closed if you wanted the illusion of privacy. Another reason why I didn’t do private requests was because there were three types that requested any of the all-male performers at Downpour: queer Orbs that wanted to get boned up personally by the performers, female Orbs that liked what they saw and wanted to see it up close and personal, and human women, usually traveling in a group, that were part of a bachelorette party. I wanted no part in any of those avenues. Get in, do my routine, collect my bag, and leave. That’s what appealed to me about working at Downpour and I wasn’t interested in changing things up. Things were changingtoo much in my personal life, I didn’t need my work life altering too.
“You do now,” Evangeline nodded, holding up a wad of cash. “They’ve already paid upfront. Get to suite three after you change, please.”
I huffed, giving her a hard stare. “Fine, but can we talk about this later?”
“Of course,Connor.” She said my stage name with a purr. She knew my real name but we always went by stage names when we were working. “Whatever you need.”
Giving her an obedient tilt of my head, I went to the locker room of sorts that the performers switched outfits in. We had places to put our personal belongings as well, not that I usually kept much on me other than my phone, wallet, and keys.
Serpentining through the backroom area of the club, I ambled into the performers only room with dread weighing down my usual post-performance high like my mind was tethered to metal balloons. I didn’t want to do the private session, but knowing that Evangeline had been paid up front, as opposed to afterwards like was customary for private sessions, I had no choice but to get it over with. I huffed to myself, sensing a theme forming in my life.
Heading to my locker, I scoffed seeing the label ‘Thayer / Connor’ above the little cubby where I’d left my things. I took a quick glance at my phone, already seeing another text from Troian calling me an asshole for ghosting him. As much as I wanted to text back that he was an asshole for bombarding my life with his sudden presence, I swallowed my fears all the way down and texted him back, telling him I was ready to talk, but that we could plan when I wasn’t at work. He didn’t respond right away, not that I blamed him, so I dropped my phone back where it had been and started to peel off the remains of my Cowboy Connor costume, quickly replacing them with myusual skimpy shorts, this time in a shade of lime green, and my grey slip on shoes.
“Hey, Thayer.” I heard from one of the new guys, a buff blond who was gaining a fan club because of his bulge. It was seriously oversized, not that I was into that kind of thing. But it was the kind of big that you couldn’t help but notice.
I gave him a curt nod. “Hey, Joe.”
He stared knowingly into my brown eyes. “Aren’t you usually done for the night?”
Sighing, I added, “Usually, I’d wait around for the finale ensemble dance. But I’ve been privately requested, cash up front.” I rolled my eyes, wishing I didn’t have to oblige the order.
