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Perth was sitting right up front, leaning forward in the comfortable seat, eyes trained on the silver pole, which was glistening. The whole place was dark except the area around pole, thanks to the single spotlight shining on it.

That's when the music started.

It was merely a beat, really, not an actual song, but Saint Suppapong still strutted like a fucking god onto the stage, owning it like a true queen.

His legs were covered in fishnet leggings and, holy hell, they were amazing. Saint legs looked even more tan, even more defined, even move delicious and they were causing Perth to get uncomfortable in his lower region- and Saint hadn't even started yet.

At that note, a light piano started playing, and Saint gripped the pole, smirking right at Perth as he suddenly threw his left leg up, hooking it around the pole, and using his right leg to push off and swing around it, dropping to the floor and tilting his head back.

Perth gasped. The light reflected on
purple-ish blue bruises on Saint's neck, ones he had tried to cover, ones that Perth gave him.

An other drop of the piano, Saint was up, throwing his left leg way up at an agonizing height, showing a glimpse of turquoise panties under his fishnets, before he was wrapped and swinging around the pole once more.

The whole club was silent, watching in shock as Saint dropped from the pole and onto the ground, crawling maliciously towards the front of the stage, a naughty glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, all of the lights were on, and there was a yell. Perth jumped up, looking around, and- oh!

People were rushing in, panicking, talking about a fire down the street- the other strip club.

Perth's eyes widened and he rushed towards the door. Saint kicked off his heels and rushed out towards Perth. The air outside was a bit chilly, but there wasn't any wind, it was just cold.

Saint took off after Perth's retreating figure, yanking the car door open. Perth merely glanced at him before motioning for Saint to get in and they drove off towards Perth's place of work.

••••

Perth could feel Saint staring at his hunched figure as he sat on the front steps of the large apartment building next to the burnt-down strip club.

Firemen were starting to leave and there was an ambulance pulling out. Almost everyone was able to make it out.

Almost.

Perth sat in the police station, fiddling with the papers on the desk. His boss was on his left, Saint on his right, and Saint's boss next to Saint.

Saint and Perth, as the practical managers of each club, were required to come.

"And that's why I think that Mr. Scott started the fire at Alive," Peter concluded, folding his hands together.

"Let me know, Peter, how I could start a fire at your club while I was at my  club!" Scott said angrily, eyeing the other man in pure spite.

The two exchanged nasty looks.

"Perth, where were you during the incident?" The man asked. Officer Harrell.

"I was... I was at The Dollhouse," Perth admitted.

Everyone, including Saint, looked over at Perth in surprise.

Why didn't he lie?

Perth thought about it. Perth's co-workers saw Saint get out of Perth's Range Rover. Peter didn't know now, but it could possibly get around, and Perth could get in serious trouble.

"Perth, why were you over there?" Officer Harrell asked.

"I-I was watching Saint. I wanted to recruit him."

"Recruit Saint?" Peter asked in shock. "You wanted to recruit someone?"

Perth blinked before looking at Saint, who blinked back.

"Saint felt threatened in the environment that The Dollhouse is districted at. I went behind everyone's backs and was trying to recruit Saint and a few other dancers to talk to the city board and get The Dollhouse moved to somewhere safer."

Perth had never lied so well in his life, but, now that he thought about it, he wouldn't mind if Saint was exchanged to a new district.

"Did you see Scott at the club?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Aha!" Peter interrupted. "He wasn't there! He obviously-"

"Could've been in his office," Perth interrupted this time, eyeing Peter.

There was no way Scott set Alive on fire. The Dollhouse may not have been number one, but Scott seemed like to type that wouldn't try to destroy something for power.

Perth was observant. He just knew these things.

"Mr. Tanapon is right," Officer Harrell said. "The rivalry has nothing to do with this. I know that the evidence says the fire was started by someone intentionally, but-"

"But nothing! You will find out who started that fire and I will sue the hell out of them!" Peter yelled.

Suddenly, the door opened.

"They've identified the bodies of the two dead people," a woman said briskly. "And one wasn't supposed to be in that club."

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