Schlatt was bored. He's been stuck in his office all day. He's been trying to call Wilbur, but the damn Brit won't pick up his god damn phone. It wasn't until the fifth time did he finally answer his phone.
"Heyy, Schlatt~"
"Wilbur I've been trying to call you for ten minutes. I'm bored."
"...You're bored. And you called me."
"Yeah. Do you have a shift today?"
"I do, actually. You planning on dropping by."
"Yeah. You're pretty hot when you want to be."
"Hehe. Well, my shift starts in like, fifteen minutes. See you then."
"Bye, Virgo."
He hung up the phone and got up out of his chair. Stretching his back, he looked out the window. The sun still a bit over the horizon, peeking out from behind the tall skyscrapers. The traffic was pretty bad; he'll have to walk to the Strip Club.
Schlatt walked out of his office and into the elevator down the hall. His office was on the twelfth floor of the thirty story building. It had an amazing view, but it took so long riding the elevator. Once he got to the bottom though, it was a fairly quick trip to the club. Growing up on the streets did give you a lot of time exploring the alleyways.
The Club was in the more secluded part of the city. It had only one floor and a few neon lights for the sign. Schlatt paid the entry fee of $20 and walked in.
Almost immediately, he was bathed in bright pinks and purples. The lyricless pop music blared out of the speakers by the stage. He sat down in one of the empty booths in the back. From there, he could see the bar half full, some poor, drunk bastard is spending all his money on one of the dancers, some other dancers walking around getting tips, and two people on the stage.
One was a lady in seven inch, glittery, pink platform heels. She looked to have brown hair in a tight ponytail. Her revealing outfit was the same as her heels, pink and glittery. The other preformer on the pole was... Wilbur! He was wearing his usual gold getup. It matches his preformer name, William Gold. Ha.
They danced for around two songs before they got off. Pinkie going to the bar and Wil getting tips. Schlatt watched as he talked to a guy at one of the tables. He handed him some cash and then got up. Wil led him to one of the back rooms. Schlatt's grip on his drink tightened.
It felt like forever waited for Wilb- William to come out, in reality, it was only seven minutes. Schlatt was getting slightly angry, and maybe a bit jealous. It didn't matter though. He could always just fuck him after they got to his penthouse. Finally they came back. Wil immediately went to the bar to chat a couple dudes up.
His shift lasted a few more hours. He was exhausted by the end of it. Schlatt met him outside. He seemed to already have gotten a taxi.
"Hey, Schlatt."
"Wilbur," the businessman looked a bit more angry than usual.
"What's wrong, Schlatt? Was my performance not good enough for you?" Wilbur joked.
"No, no. It was great. You looked really fucking hot. It's nothing."
"You sure?"
"Yes, Wilbur." Schlatt looked at him. His gaze was hard.
The drive to Schlatt's place was silent. If it wasn't for the tense atmosphere, Wilbur could have fallen asleep. He was too tired to figure out why Schlatt was acting so weird.
¡!-!¡
In the Penthouse
¡!-!¡
Stumbling through the door, Wilbur turned to the direction of the stairs and tiredly walked up. He went to change into one of Schlatt's soft blue sweaters he hugged him to get. He passed out as soon as he flipped on the bed.
