They met up another weeknight at the same table in the strip club. She was still as distant as before. She dragged her cigarette in front of him. Her painted eyelids were cast down, and it seemed as if she was in deep thought. He stared at her. His light hairs shone underneath the club lights, while colorful changing lights reflected on her face. She looked beautiful in dark lighting. Her heavy makeup was flawless. When one looked hard enough, one could see the childishness in her face. Her youthfulness that never left. She looked up at him and said, “You know, you look pretty good under that light.”
It was a sadder night than usual for both. Maybe it was the full moon, or maybe they were just incomplete. He wanted her, but she wanted something else; fame, fortune, and everything that came with it. She looked at him, sandwich boy couldn’t take care of her.
He smiled at her and said, “You look like an angel.”
She laughed softly tilting her head back, then looked at him. She shimmied her chest and laughed again.
“Do that again” he said.
“Only if you call me an angel” she said.
“Angel angel angel angel” he said.
She shimmied over and over some more.
“Angel” he said again.
She came up to him dancingly rubbed herself on him.
“Angel” he barely whispered with excitement.
She moved herself deeper and harder. He whimpered.
“I love you” he whispered to her as they looked at each other up close.
“I like you” she said. She then cradled his head on her chest and caressed his hair with her fingers. He sighed with relief. She tilted his head and made it face hers, “Gotta make some money” she said. Then she walked away towards the stage to dance for other men.
He sat back with an open smile as he looked at her. His entire day was made. No, he thought, ‘My entire year is made.’