Rent (Phan AU)

Another Day

A/N: This chapter contains descriptive scenes of strip-dancing and heated arguments. If that disturbs you in any way, I advise not to read ahead.

The people sat in a circle in the auditorium, some of them holding hands for comfort. PJ was outside the circle, taping the scene on his camera. “How’s everyone feeling?” A balding man sitting near the front asked. Nobody spoke. The only sound to be heard was the whizzing of the inner machinations of PJ’s camera. Troye’s fingers were interlaced with Franta’s. One man with scruffy black hair cleared his throat.

 

“Well, my T-cell count is decreasing.” He said.  The patrons around him gasped quietly. “I have about three months to live.” The man at the front frowned. “And how do you feel about this?” He reiterated his question. The scruffy-haired man laughed. “This is the best I’ve felt in years.” He said, looking surprised at the words that had just exited his mouth.

 

“I’m happy because I’ve made it this far. The doctors all said I’d die three years ago, and I didn’t.” Troye looked at Franta. Franta was nodding, agreeing with the man. PJ half-smiled at the man’s pride in himself. “In a dying society, all we have is ourselves and others to care for. If that’s not enough, and if that can’t be appreciated, you’re gonna have a hell of a sad life” The man said profoundly.

 

Scattered ‘amen’s were heard around the room. Troye tapped his index fingers together in a silent clap. The seminar went on for another half-hour as PJ filmed the entire thing eagerly.

 

~

 

Dan was sweating, hot like always. Sweat beaded around his eyebrow as he scanned the crowd of thirsty pigs. They were his audience, and they were already wrapped around his finger. He walked across the rafters, plotting where he was going to go and what he was going to do. Adrenaline was rushing through him, as it always did before he performed.

 

He whistled loudly, grabbing the attention of every sweaty and horny guy or girl in the audience. Dropping the blanket that had been wrapped around his shoulders, he wrapped his leg around the stair railing. The only thing covering him now was a pair of black leather booty shorts.

 

The crowd hooted as Dan made his way down the stairs, accentuating all of his features as he went down. He always told himself that he was a stripper because he just needed money for drugs, but he actually enjoyed the job. It was fun to see men and women lick their lips at the sight of him; never to touch, just to watch as he spun tantalizingly on a pole.

 

Dan was on the platform now, poles on either side of him. Trap music started playing loudly; his cue. He tightly grabbed onto a pole to his left, hiking his leg onto it and smacking his ass. He relished in the cheers of the crowd. He licked his lips, climbing up the pole and spinning around gleefully. The crowd was roaring and laughing, watching him.

                         

He started thrusting on the pole smoothly, opening his mouth slightly and moaning for effect. The crowd instantly went wild, a few men in the front throwing 20 dollar bills onstage. Dan slid off the pole, strutting over to the foot of the stage. This part was easily the hardest, because he had to avoid being touched or groped by the people in the front.