One of the Beautiful People

Chapter Two

 The following week, John struggled to stay as happy as he had when he first laid eyes on Paul. He had gone into what would be considered a slight depression, constantly thinking about the mysterious dancer he had gotten himself mixed up with. Paul was absolutely stunning, and John found himself thinking of Paul at every waking hour. He had decided that he shouldn’t go to the club the following evening, considering Paul saw him as a client, and only a client.

  By the time John had worked up the courage to visit the club Paul worked in once again, he had realized that he didn’t want to go just because it was a strip club and he wanted to get off. He wanted to visit because Paul was there. Of course, Paul saw him only as a business client in his fucked up little world of sexual pleasure. He waited a week to return to the club because he hoped that Paul would forget about him.

  John was only somewhat right when saying that Paul had forgotten him. Although Paul had tried to block John out of his mind, there was still a deep longing in his heart and a painful rush in his chest when he thought about John. Paul didn’t think of John quite as much as John thought of Paul, but thoughts of the client that had somehow been so attracted to him raced through his mind quite often. He usually set those thoughts aside, tending to his clients like was expected of him and performing every evening. The entire time, however, he felt different than he had all of his previous shows. And for once, Paul didn’t know why.

  John strolled into the club, paying his entrance fee and looking around. He caught no sight of Paul, so he sat down and waited for some time for the younger lad to show up. John must have sat there for a half an hour, sulking in his seat as he watched dancer upon dancer try to woo him. Eventually, John realized that Paul wasn’t going to come out, and he packed up his things, ready to leave. Screw Paul for not showing up. He said he worked every day of the week, didn’t he? Then a brilliant thought crossed John’s mind: Maybe he was with another client?

  John rushed to the familiar hallway which led to the client’s rooms. Although John had only been back there once, his feet somehow magically found their way through the complex hallway, stopping as the reached the door he remembered was Paul’s. John gulped, swallowing his spit in pure fear. What if Paul didn’t want him here? He was almost positive that Paul only saw him as a client. John thought he could simply pay for Paul’s services and then leave. It was a simple as that; Paul would just think he wanted a dance, no feelings attached.

  As his fingers grasped the doorknob, John felt sweat beading at his forehead. John Lennon, why are you so nervous? His mind kept taunting at him and insulting himself, driving him crazy. You’re pathetic, falling for another man like that. If only Mum could see you now! John was about to twist the doorknob open and reveal himself to Paul, but apparently, Paul had beaten to him. The door swung open, and a wide-eyed Paul and a rather unattractive client stood there, staring back at John.

  “…John?” Paul asked, shoving his client’s back and allowing him to go back to the main dancer’s lobby. He looked absolutely stunning, wearing his usual tight black leather pants but this time switching it up a bit and wearing a bright turquoise leather jacket with it. His hair was gelled up into a perfect quiff, his eyelashes fluttering innocently as John stared back at him.

  “John,” he repeated, this time not a question but more of a statement, “what are you doing here?”

  “I… uh…” he stuttered, fighting so hard to find the words he had prepared in his head for the past week, “came back.” John gulped. “For a dance,” he added, making it seem like he was here strictly for business.

  “Really?” Paul asked, a smug little smile across his face, “I guess I’m the popular one tonight.”

  “Oh?” John asked, walking through the open door to Paul’s private room, and Paul backed away to the side to allow him to pass. “How many dances have you done this evening?”