Sugar, Spice and Everything Not So Nice

This was nothing new. This was just the way his life always played out. An exhilarating erotic number on a stage with a pole, fishnets and teasing personality followed by the highest bidder to continue his line of work in a more secluded section of the club.

Fantasia Dyed may have been a newer club against its competitors that have been around for years, but the workers and staff inside raised the bar previously set. While clubs can be shady to begin with, what with the use of alcohol at every turn, murmurs of drugs, and agreements to met up for a quick money job- Fantasia Dyed had a reputation of the best line of sex workers you could get your dirty hands on. If you had the money, that was.

Im Changkyun was the front man of that line up. Wanted by men, women and anyone in between- if you had the cash he demanded for his services, he was yours for the night. He had no qualm so long as you paid and used the protection he required to keep your own STIs to your damn self. He really wasn't picky, and he never stopped to ask himself as to why.

So, this- crawling out of some random woman's creaky, box spring bed and pulling on the clothes he had lost earlier- was nothing new. He looked over his shoulder as he ran his black painted fingers through his blond hair.

The woman was passed out, a fuzzy, brown blanket covering her body as Changkyun turned away from her. Throwing his shirt back on, flinging his jacket over his shoulders and thrusting his arms through the sleeves, he shimmied on his black skinnies and boots. Grabbing his abandoned black, clutch bag from the stranger's couch he unclasped it to look at the envelope of bills he had received just hours earlier from his 'client'.

Throwing himself on the couch, he crossed his legs and counted the bills, smirking when he was adamant he was paid in full- with even a small service tip he assumed- to cover over his asking price for the night. Satisfied, he got up and left that small apartment he had stumbled into.

It was only when he entered his own home- the top floor penthouse of some wealthy building- did he wonder just for the briefest of moments if he was truly satisfied.

-x-x-x-

"Y/n, if you don't come with me to Fantasia like you promised you would 2 years ago when it opened now that I finally have the money and the chance for my birthday, you're being grounded."

You, who was busy replacing books that you had been wheeling around on your return cart back on the shelf, had the lovely company of your best friend sitting behind you at a library table as you worked. She'd been going on and on about her birthday plans and while you were happy she was excited about them, she was adamant on adding you to the attendee list.

Maybe it was cliche, but the oh-so-thrilling life you lived as a librarian of your local public library painted a rather 'stay at home' picture of you; and that is exactly how you wanted it. The whole reason you took this job opportunity was because the head librarian noticed you come in every other Wednesday for a new list of to-reads to rent and offered a position after she got to know you a bit better.

Had you had the choice, you'd stay cooped up in your house with a good book, a nice warm drink, a rainy day and peace and quiet for the rest of your life. But, of course, that was a fantasy. Your social life was barely breathing, with Halie-the insistent best friend behind you- being the center of your social solar system.

You were a prime recluse, you didn't even keep in touch with your parents as often as you should since they were so utterly upset you were throwing so much 'potential' away when you decided to be a librarian instead of going into some out of this world career field.

You had Halie and Halie had connections with just about everyone ever. She was easy to adapt to personalities and was generally kind to anyone she meets unless they're rude first. She was a prime example of a modern 'dream girl' that people had. Though, she was still your friend no matter who she is with anyone else.