Medicine {L.S}

THREE- Thirteen fives and three twenties

Harry Styles

Thursday night

As the crowd cheers and applauds I give a polite bow and collect all the money that was tossed onto the stage. The announcer had already moved onto the next person so everyones attention was already off of me, only making this part easier.

I loved the attention and everything that comes with it, but it's the times like now, where I'm practically crawling around a strip club to find the tips old men with wives and families have left me, that have me wondering if this is all life is supposed to be.

Taking the money from the stage I quickly stack it and use the hair-tie from my wrist to hold it together as I head backstage. The loud noise from the music and drunk uni kids cheering stops as I walk into the back dressing room. I immediately spot Twyla on one of the black velvet couches smoking a cigarette as she lied down like she was in a therapists office.

"Make a lot of money?" she asks not needing to look up to know its me who entered. She has on her favorite pair of sweatpants that just so happen to be mine, along with the hoodie I gave her for her birthday.

The hoodie is black with a green serpent on the back. Its a running joke in our friend group that Twyla's dad is a serpent because of how two-faced he his. So when I saw the hoodie in the store, I knew I just had to give it to her.

"It's a Thursday night. There aren't many people except for university students. It's probably all fives, maybe one or two twenties," I say as I walk towards the couch she's sitting on. "but, feel free to count it for me." I joke as I toss the bundle of cash onto her stomach.

"Wow, seems like you need this more than I do." She says handing me her half-smoked cigarette. Placing the cigarette between my lips, I lift up her legs and sit down where they were, her legs now draped over my thighs. I look back over to her and she hands me back my money.

"How much?" I hesitantly ask, the cigarette hanging out of the corner of my mouth

"Hundred twenty-five." She announces, well that's another £125 towards finding a place here.

"Thirteen fives and three twenties." she says cheerfully, if it wasn't for thirteen being her lucky number I was going to be upset that I didn't make an even amount.

"Is he here tonight?" Twyla asks giving me a slight smirk.

"I wasn't looking for him." I lie, wishing I didn't know who she was referencing.

There's this guy who comes in every few days or so. He's never spent time in the club area, only the bar and in exactly the same chair each time. Because he's never seated in my section I don't severe him, Twyla does.

I've refused to let Twyla tell me his name, I want him to tell me himself. Sure I could trade spots with her or just outright take his order, but I wont.

Every time he comes we always find ourselves staring at each other. Whether it's subtle glances or full on eye contact, we cant look apart. We've never spoken to each other before, nor do I think I know him, but he captivates me so much.

He almost never comes alone, but is always left alone at the bar.

After one or two drinks his mates leave him and head over to the club area. He doesn't seem to mind much, he'll either talk to Twyla if she isn't not busy or he'll speak to whoever's next to him. He's seemingly a kind bloke. The last time he came in I had actually worked up the courage to talk to him.

My side of the bar was all taken care of and Twyla's section wasn't busy either so I made my way over to him. The whole way over to him we held our eye contact. When I got about eight feet away, he got a call and had to step outside.