Afterglow ❃ l.m.j

• chapter twenty three •

trigger warning:
someone being outed

♡

I pulled the curtain of the private room back, allowing the man in front of me to step in first. He was a pudgy older man named Vincent, maybe in his late forties with peppered hair. He was one of my first private dances for the night in between my set.

I nodded to the security guard outside of the door behind closing the curtain.

Vincent took a seat on the couch before manspreading. I held my chin up as I smirked at him.

"So, what can I help you with tonight?"

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands over his head. "I know this is probably weird, but I just want someone to talk to. I'm going through a lot, and well, I was already here, you know? Not sure if you do that but I'd really appreciate it."

I tilted my head in concern. My steps towards the man were slow and wary. "Yeah, sure. What's been going on?"

The man sighed before delving into everything from his past week. I felt like Lottie the way I nodded and encouraged him to go on, even throwing in adlibs like, "Are you serious?" He explained that his wife stepped out on him for his best friend and that the way he found out was heinous. An unmarked CD laying around amidst his DVD collection. The man broke down in tears halfway through his story, and I found myself rubbing his back to console him.

"You know what that does to a man's pride?" He raged, looking into my eyes with his bloodshot grey ones. "To see your woman up under the same man you welcomed into your home twenty seven years ago? Someone who's ate dinner with your mother that isn't even alive anymore? All this shit I can't take back..."

My voice was soft. "I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine what that feels like. No one deserves that. Especially with someone you've built a home with... Or let into your own."

The man sobbed, nearly curling into my arms like a baby. I felt something sink in my chest as I watched him. That was all he really wanted to talk about. After what felt like an hour, his tears and cries sobered up. He stared at the wall for a while. I gave him silence because I could feel that he needed it.

He turned to me with a nod. "Thank you. You know, for this. Can't say I'm proud to be crying in a dancer's arms but... I have no one."

I shook my head, giving me a smile. "No, it's okay. If it's any consolation, this isn't the worst thing I've sat through."

"Yeah? What's the worst?"

I pursed my lips in thought. "I can't remember off the top of my head."

He grunted. The man reached around into his back pocket. "I don't know how much I owe you but here."

The man shoveled a huge wad of bills into my hand. He looked away afterwards as if disgraced to even see it. I looked up sincerely, folding the bills into my hand.

"Thank you, really. And I'm not just saying that because of the money. I appreciate that you let me talk to you." I sympathized. Vincent refused to look me in the eyes but nodded.

"You're welcome." Then he got up to leave.

Before he could pull back the curtain to the room, a lightbulb went off in my head.