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It was getting late.
Feeling the soft material of the lacy undergarment residing under her sheer robe, Y/N looked around to see who was left in the club. Rare were the ones standing up as most of the men were either drunk or intoxicated by the movements of the workers. Concluding there was no one left to entertain, Y/N left to go back to the interior rooms to get ready to leave.
The room she shared with the other girls was simply decorated with mirrors and occasionally packed bags for the ones who were about to leave. Waving at them, Y/N started to gather her stuff in the now silent room. She moved to her assigned dressing table and retrieved her personal makeup bag.
The wooden chair felt harsh against the fin fabric that protected her skin. She shifted a bit and took a glance at her reflection. You could tell she was tired as the night had been long which was expected with the debut of the weekend, but she was pretty proud at how her makeup stood up.
The sound of the doorknob being abused made her turn towards the entrance. Every girl knew how to counter struggle that was that doorknob -to be gentle, was the secret- and she wasn't expecting anyone. Y/N stood up and called for the person behind to calm down. She slightly opened it, peeking to see who was the abuser.
"Hiding from me?" a deep voice teased as the bulb illuminated the familiar face.
He wasn't a drunk stranger lost in the club or anything that would force Y/N to call security for. In fact, he was a regular client. So regular that her shifts were often finished at her home as he'd made her chant his name until the next night of work.
Y/N scoffed at his playfulness, too tired to retort. Opening the door to let him in, she went back to the dressing table.
"Already done with work?" he yawned as he took a sit on the sofa placed at the other corner of the room.
"Yeah, I'm pretty tired" she spoke with a soft tone.
When Y/N first started the job, she had been explained how the club didn't have any rules but it was better to set some boundaries with clients. Yet she ended up hooking with more than one client. However, there were always nights resulting from one drink too many.
With him it was different.
She couldn't recall when exactly they met but she remembered him asking for a certain individual. He clearly didn't find interest in the work proposed in the club but for one of their regular. That's how, as he had been waiting for his man, Y/N had gotten bored and decided to keep him company.
The man was attractive. She wasn't going to lie but what kept her pressed against his chest during that night was the sarcasm that left his mouth at her every statement. It had been funny how he kept declaring that he wasn't interested in her babbling while keeping the conversation going.
