Everything was smooth for about a month.
The club was going well, Perth and Saint still competing for the spotlight, but they'd always be the two faces of Daddy's Playhouse, so Saint knew that Perth was content as well.
The boys gained new friends in Gun and his boyfriend, Mark, and the couple was extreme goals, as Saint would put it.
However, Saint was very much in love with his boyfriend and the relationship they had. Sure, it got rough sometimes, but Perth would calm down before fucking Saint nice and deep, solving the problem.
Even Bas was becoming good friends with Saint. The boy finally worked up the nerve to ask Copter on an actual date and they were an official couple, leaving Saint satisfied.
Sure, Bas had been with Perth sexually loads of time, but Bas never received the same thing, the same kind of love that Saint received from Perth. Saint knew he had a one-up on Bas, and he was proud of it.
Yes, things were going great.
Until they weren't.
It was late at night on a Friday, Saint off of work while Perth worked a shift, and Saint was just falling asleep when his cell phone rang. He answered the call-Bas- with a yawn.
"Saint? I need you to come to the club right this instant so we can discuss something," Bas said, making Saint nervous.
"Why didn't Perth-"
"He's very upset," Bas said quietly. "Only you can calm him down. After that, we can solve this little... Problem."
"I'm on my way," Saint said before getting out of bed. He was only wearing a soft grey tee of Perth's, so he pulled on a black coat and white skinnies over his navy blue thong, black flats following right after. He ruffled his hair and grabbed his keys, heading off towards his place of work.
The club lights were nearly blinding since Saint had been on the edge of sleep, but he parked and went straight past the flashing lights and into the dark club.
A loud beat was thumping through the club while several men tossed money onto the stage for the dancing lad- Mean. Two other boys that Saint didn't know were on either side of Mean.
Saint walked quickly to the dressing rooms and offices, entering Bas's and smiling softly when he saw poor Perth, sitting on a sleep black couch with his head was in his hands.
"Perth," Saint said softly, causing Perth to look up and smile falsely at Saint. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," Perth said, eyes traveling from Saint to Bas, who was leaned back in a comfortable-looking chair. "We need to tell you something important."
Saint nodded, walking over to sit beside Perth, but the taller lad pulled Saint into his lap, patting his thigh gently.
"Do you know where your family is?" Bas asked.
"Pocket, I assume," Saint said slowly. "I don't know for sure. I haven't had contact for years."
"Well... Is there a possibility that they are here?" Perth prompted.
"Doubt it. They knew where I was moving to, they wouldn't-"
"What's your stepdad's name?" Bas interrupted.
"Mark Suppapong, but-"
"Fuck," Perth said, rubbing his temples with his free hand. "I just... I think that Mark Suppapong is the owner of the other club."
"It can't be the same," Saint said immediately. "They knew what I've become and despised me for it. He would never be the owner of a strip club."
"Okay. Why don't we go check it out?" Perth said, tossing a box onto the table and smirking.
••••••
"You look ridiculous," Saint giggled, despite the circumstances, adjusting the fedora on Perth's head. It had a large peacock feather sticking out of the side.
Perth snorted, pushing on a pair of sunglasses. "I feel ridiculous. My jeans aren't tight enough."
"At least your dick isn't suffocated for once," Bas counted, pulling the beanie further down to hide all traces of ginger hair.
"Shut the fuck up," Perth hissed as the skipped the long line and immediately handed over money to the security guard, who let them in with no struggle.
"There's a hella long line," Saint commented once they were inside the club. "Looks like we have competition."
"No competition if I can buy the club."
Saint jumped, turning the face a tall man, thinner and handsomer, yet older, than Saint remembered.
Mark Suppapong.
"Hello," Mark said with a sly smirk. "You boys are going to have to do more than wear hats and sunglasses to get past me. All my guards know your height, weight, age, name, and overall features. He alerted me rather quickly and, thankfully, I was already close to the door. How about a drink in my office?"
Perth looked about ready to beat the man who abandoned Saint, but he followed anyways, leaving Saint and Bas to follow behind him.
Perth reached back and grabbed Bas's hand while looping his arm around Saint's waist, successfully getting them to Mark's office.
"How kind of you to offer us drinks, Mr. Suppapong, but this won't change my mind," Bas said as soon as the door was closed and his hand was free from Perth's death grip.
"Nor will it stop me from beating your ass," Perth growled, causing Mark to raise two eyebrows.
"And why would you do such a thing? I barely know you... In person, that is. I've seen your performances-"
"That's disgusting," Saint hissed. "Don't ever watch my boyfriend again-"
"Ah, Saint. I've seen your performances as well. We all know I'm undeniably disgusted by gays but it seems the era of the money these days. I saw how well you were in the business and took up on my own club."
Saint flinched as Perth pulled away, lunging at Mark, but the older man was fast, swiftly stepping to the side. Perth stumbled and nearly fell, but regained his posture, livid.
"You and Saint's fucking mother abandoned him because he was a little bit different. That's heart-wrenching and plain cruel."
"Speaking of abandoned," Mark said, smile turning into a smirk, "I've been reading your files, Perth. An orphan. You also abandoned your family, didn't you?"
A fist connected with Mark's face and the man stumbled backwards, gripping his jaw.
Bas was breathing heavily, clutching his now-bruised knuckles. "Don't you fucking talk about that to him. You don't know shit."
Perth grabbed Saint's arm and stepped out of the office, Bas close behind.
Saint whimpered, wondering why his life had to be so fucked up.
