I'm Just Passing The Time (Peterick Stripper AU)

Exactly Where You'd Like Me (Patrick's POV)

I sat on a bed backstage from the main pole. It was nearing closing time, which meant rest for those of us that didn't end up wandering out with the clientele. I was disconnecting my spiderweb of strings covering me when one of my colleagues walked in with a tired look about him.

"Oh, mon dieu!" The taller boy sat next to me, running his fingers through his brown hair, "Mister Brendon really worked it tonight..."

I rolled my eyes. "At least your client was willing to work with you." I replied, irritably. "I got a newbie that had no idea what he was doing..."

"Aw, Pat, I thought you liked the new ones?" The brown haired boy smiled sweetly, kicking his feet slightly.

"Usually they have some idea of what they want." I sighed. "And don't call me Pat, Ry." I told him once it dawned on me what name he had called me, "We don't use names here."

Ryan rolled his eyes. "We're backstage. After hours, I might add." He said matter of factly. He fell back on the bed, continuing to let his legs dangle and kick. "I can still feel him, mon dieu..."

"Dormir maintenant, il devrait disparaître..." I instructed, looking down at him. He was still the newest one here, yet he had scored one of the biggest clients. Someone who came regular and paid well. I usually got the free dances or some low paying gigs. I just wasn't as popular... "Sleep it off, Ry."

"I don't like the sleeping part of the job..." Ryan mumbled, his eyes already closed. I just rolled my own and leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"You wanna make quality dollar tomorrow, you will." I said quietly, pushing some hair out of his face. Ryan hummed lightly, his breathing already beginning to slow.

I began to finish taking off my working attire before slowly rising from the bed to pull a box from underneath it. Inside were some clothes more comfortable for sleep and slightly more appropriate for walking around outside. (It was really just a large shirt over my panties.) I quickly changed before walking out into the bar. All that was left were those just finishing private sessions or those too drunk to leave the bar.

"Ah, Punk." Spencer nodded when he saw me walking over, "Looking for a reason to have a hangover?"

I shook my head. "No thanks. I'm attempting to run dry of the stuff." I hopped to sit up on the stool at the bar, "Just a water? Maybe a smoke?"

"Fresh out of option two, but a water I can provide." Spencer nodded.

I sighed, leaning on the bar. It had started out as a fun night. I had earned a good handful of cash working the pole, but I was relying on a good dance to really bring in some money. After the whiskey eyed boy, no one even attempted to ask. I had no idea what I had done wrong. I was given no real direction, so I began going off his slight signals.

He eyed my webbing design?

Move it around and display my body, not so hidden, underneath.

He stared at the bra?

Take it off and see if he'll strip just as much.

Just give him a show. Somehow, that went wrong and he wanted to be done with it. He wouldn't be a returning customer...

Spencer returned with a small glass of water, which I thanked him for with a smile and a nod. Even with how lucrative working in an illegal club could be, business had slowed with the worsening economy. Dallon was beginning to worry as we lost more and more of our big spenders. The man that always came for Ryan was one of them, so that may have resparked some hope.

"Hello, Punk." I turned to see another coworker on the arm of a stranger. The brown haired girl was arm and arm with a red headed girl. "Tell the boss I took a home call."

"You got it, Miss Hals." I nodded as the two walked out. I sighed, swirling my cup in my hand. She'd be making some good cash. I had been here for over a year and I still couldn't make the connections some of the others had. Most of my clients were just experimenters...

"Did that guy that requested me drink too much?" I asked Spencer, "Or not enough?"

"Don't think he finished." Spencer replied, wiping the bar of spilled drinks and discarded mixed nut shells. He looked over at me, "Why you ask?"

"No reason." I shrugged. I began drinking my water when footsteps became audible in the hall. Spencer and I both turned to see Dallon, as well as, a small black haired boy enter the room with crates of alcohol.

"Right over here, Frank." Dallon instructed the shorter boy as he walked over to the bar.

"Yes sir." Frank nodded, following Dallon's lead.

I watched curiously. This was a new bootleg boy. The last one we went through had a huge puff of hair on top of his head. This one was just barely taller than me with short, jet black hair. As his sleeve moved when he set boxes down, it looked like he had some ink on his skin. I liked it.

"A restock! Boss, you are too kind." Spencer laughed, already beginning to unload the product.

Dallon just grinned. "Alcohol is just one of the things keeping the world in motion."

"Definitely helps keep my world in motion." Frank laughed. He looked down the bar until he made eye contact with me. He had that curious look that most clients had, so I went with it. I set my cup down, leaned on the bar and gave him a small wave.

His eyes grew wide before he composed himself and gave a small wave back. Dallon glanced down at me before grinning again.

"Ah, Frank. I see you've met one of my boys."

"Yes sir." Frank nodded, eyeing me still. The attention felt nice after the guy from earlier. This could even be a chance to make some more money before the night truly ended.

"Care for a spin?" Dallon asked, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder. Frank's eyes grew wide again and he began to stamper a bit.

I let out a giggle, sliding off my stool and walking closer to him. "Je suis ici pour plaire..." I spoke lowly, sliding my finger along the bar as I walked, "Is there any way I can help?"

"Boss might not like me taking time on the side..." Frank said, but he refused to take his eyes off of me. I stepped just in front of him and held my hands behind my back with the tilt of my head.

"It's just a few minutes. Call it being thorough..." I tempted further.

Frank thought for a moment before nodding. "You better be good."

"Oh, don't worry about that." I smiled sweetly, offering out my hand. I intended to show it to someone that would take me. He seemed willing, because he took my hand and allowed me to lead him to one of the booths.