This is a voyage through the possibilities of who he is and who he can be in various universes. I welcome you to a world of each and every characteristic of DeVanté is existing as a separate entity in its own universe.
created: 23 February, 2018
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part one
I've never written about this occupation/environment and it's a pretty common subject. It's based on my favorite track from Drake's Certified Lover Boy album. Thoughts, opinions, and criticism are greatly appreciated.
A simple two step never sufficed any of the male gazes in Planet Her. The twirls, rolls, grinds, and splits on and off of the main stage are meant to gather as much attention as each dancer can garner. Neon blue, pink, and orange threads of cloth remain between the two half globes of jiggling flesh as the women are showered in dollars bills, some with a hidden code of authentication and some without. Sections of the Portland club being rented out whenever a big name visits from the state bordering their southern lining is not a new sight, though the star power of the night was evoking a brand new kind of grind out of the girls on this particular night. No one has made it to the rented section since the night began. It is filled to the brim with men, and few women, that the dancers assume are the entourage of the expected but news of anyone the girls know of has not made any rounds around the locker room yet.
One by one, occasionally two by two, the women take the stage after the other. The thuds of the building stereo rattle, sending a ripple wave down their thighs as they each approach the stage with as much confidence as they can individually possess. A dancer by the name of Bubbles approaches the stage with a laser focus of earning enough money to buy her son the latest release of Air Jordans that the seven-year-old has been dreaming of for the last three weeks. Mama True, the house mother of the establishment, patrols the locker room with the intent of assuring all of the girls are dressed in their best outfits.
"And Kelly, don't be getting fingered by bodyguards no more," warns Mama True. "I don't need to hear Big Row's mouth about this and that no more. You know he's going to start putting you on bottle service whenever somebody is in town again and you know good and damn well you still paying off that loan from Wendy."
Kelly lips smack as she straps her seven inch shoes around her accustomed ankles. "Okay, Mama. You don't got to be putting my business out into the world like that." Kelly's superior does not blink twice at her act of exposure. Instead, she sashays away and leaves Kelly stuck in her tracks as Tanya decides to turn to her locker neighbor.
"I had a paper due and I really had no choice but to do it. I had to do a shift at the bank earlier then I came here straight after."
A full day and schedule is a normal thing for Aubrey. If anyone in the locker room could use the money from tonight, it would be her. Even Bubbles can afford to keep her lights on at the moment. Never meeting her mother and being disowned from her family over a fist-fight with her step-mother, Aubrey is her sole provider at the tender age of 21-years-old with her birthday only having passed two days prior to the exact moment she stands at her locker with her eyes browsing her options of an attire change. She pays for her university schooling, not qualifying for any useful scholarships due to being only a part-time student, as well as her housing expenses and everyday utilities. While she has only been dancing at Planet Her for six months now, the amount of women who come in and out of the locker room looking for a quick buck place her somewhere between the veterans who've been there for years and the new rookies who come in every two weekends.
