Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(A/N: Quick drawn reference of Nagisa's ourfit during the last scene,, credit me for use!!)
The petite man wiped sweat off of his forehead and removed the black gloves from his hands before grabbing the ice water on the dressing room table and taking a few large gulps. His unitard was painfully stuffy and tight around his torso, and he was eager to remove it. He stepped behind the privacy screen and began to work on the cords keeping the heavy black article of clothing upright. As he changed, the thought of the mysterious stranger would creep back into his mind now and again, but he would quickly shake his head and try to banish the unwelcome though from his head.
Nagisa had just started to unlace his boots when he heard a soft knock at the door.
"Come in," the blunette said absentmindedly, not taking his attention off of his shoes.
"M-Mr. Shiota, sir?" A meek female voice spoke as the door creaked open.
Nagisa knew the girl's identity immediately. "Yes, Okuda? What do you need?"
"It's a message from the manager, sir. Someone's requesting your presence in one of the...private rooms."
"Oh?" Nagisa asked, surprised. Not often did he get a call to the private rooms. "How much is the offer?"
"I was informed by Mrs. Nakamura that it was around three hundred dollars."
The dancer arched up in shock. Peeking out of the privacy screen to gaze in awe at the stage helper, he repeated, "Three hundred dollars? Are you sure?"
"That is was I was told, sir. The customer is waiting in room 5, if you'd like to accept the money." For a moment, both were quiet.
"Thank you, Okuda. You may leave. Have a nice night."
"You too, sir." The bluenette heard the careful closing of the door behind him and turned to face himself in the mirror. He was wearing nothing but lace underwear and his fishnet stockings.
"Three hundred..." He whispered under his breath. "Good god." Whoever wanted him tonight wanted him badly, that was certain. The highest someone had ever paid for his company was around seventy-five dollars: People liked to watch him, but he really wasn't anyone's favorite. If someone was going to spend their money on a good night, they'd choose someone a little more popular. The blunette swallowed as he looked at himself in the mirror: he was petite and borderline skimpy, not to mention extremely pale. Yes, he did have some curves that other men lacked, and a tiny little waist, but it was still a mystery to him as to why someone would offer such a great sum of money to have him for one night. Fazed for a moment, the dancer shook his head. If this was how the customer wanted to spend their money, that wasn't his problem. He needed to focus on getting dressed. After few minute's consideration, he decided to keep on the fishnet stockings he was already wearing and pair them with tiny leather shorts, a slightly sheer white crop top, and simple black heels. Brushing his long cerulean hair behind his shoulders, he exited the dressing room made his way to the public area of the nightclub.
