"Haley, you're on in five!" His boss calls out to him. He has a love-hate relationship while working in this club, but he does it to pay the rent. He gets three hundred a week plus any tips that he makes from the locals who come to see his shows. He's a performer; he dances and sometimes he sings, but that's only if he brings in a lot of people. But apart from singing and dancing, he's also a bit of a designer. The other fabulous ladies and gents of the stage supply him with fabric and he makes them special outfits depending on their weekly routines. Sometimes he repairs their outfits if they're a little worn. Other times he takes pieces of several outfits and makes a brand new one.

At first this was just to get by, but now it's become his permanent job. He's been here for three years and, despite his adoring fans, has never once gotten that special someone that he wishes for so desperately. There have been ones filled with potential, but they never seem to last, and this makes the designing performer quite… under the weather, so to speak. But it's not like he can really complain. He's kind of happy here, even though he's putting himself on a sexual display for other men and women. Oh well. He's doing what he does best; dancing, singing (on occasion), and designing/creating outfits. At least he's not whoring himself out every night like most other people.

He leans closer to the mirror, touching up on his makeup. His face has a creamy complexion normally, but tonight he's paled himself out a little, smeared on some rouge to his cheeks and smudged thick eyeliner over the dark red shadow that the gracious and talented Carlotta Grey lent to him. He likes watching her dance because she's talented, not because she wears leather bikinis and fishnet stockings. She's a beautiful women, don't get him wrong, but he prefers watching the boys' muscles flex as they swing around poles.

Tonight he's wearing one of his own creations. Black leather booty shorts with rhinestones making swirly patterns up the side seams. Dark red suspenders hanging loose around his thighs, a red tie hanging from his neck. A wide, white headband with black lace over the silk fabric. Three inch black boots that come up to his knees are laced tightly with red ribbons. Yes, he knows how to walk, dance, jump around and perform in heels, now shut up. Also, no shirt. The fans love seeing him shirtless.

"Haley, c'mere." He turns his head to see his boss in the doorway of the wide dressing room, holding a body mic. A smile stretches across his moist, black lips and he practically dances over to taller, fat man. "You've done well, so tonight give them something special. House is packed for you. One minute." The man says as Cassidy slips the curve of the ear piece over his ear, taking the adhesive circle and holding the stiff wire of the mic to his cheek. It's wireless, making his life a hell of a lot easier.

Cassidy's got a good feeling about tonight, to be honest. His heart is pounding a little, but that always happens when he performs. Crossing to a clothing rack, Cassidy plucks a wine colored silk robe from the left side and slips it over his shoulders, tying it loosely. He smiles and walks out of the room, turning left and rushing down the hallway towards the back of the stage. He opens a white door and eases himself inside, passing the exiting performer and climbing the narrow, tall metal stairs, before reaching the top platform. His boss is introducing him on the main stage. Cassidy turns to Mike, the audio guy who hides back here, and covers the mic with his hand.

"Track four." He whispers to Mike. The blond nods once, setting up the music as Cassidy walks fluidly down the cat walk between the two platforms on either side of the stage. Lights come up behind him and all anyone can see is his silhouette.

"How are my lovelies tonight?" Cassidy coos into the mic, his voice flying through the club and the audience is deafening. He calls them his lovelies because they are his lovelies. They love what he does on stage and he loves that they come every other night to see him. There's a connection between himself and the audience and it sets his body alight with glee to be here, even though he sometimes hates his job. Cassidy curls his hands around the metal railing of the catwalk as the music starts. Deliciously upbeat drums before an amazing, catchy guitar riff. Cassidy tosses his head around as he gets into it. The crowd is going nuts as the lights dim away from behind him and a spotlight hits his face. He grins, crossing down the catwalk towards the stairs.

"What's the time? Well, it's gotta be close to midnight!" He sings, closing his eyes as he presses the ball of his left foot against the railing of the stairs and unties the robe, but he doesn't take it off yet.

"My body's talking to me—" now he takes it off, tossing it away as the audience screams in delight. He takes a step down, his feet on separate stairs, " it says, 'Time for danger'! It says, 'I wanna commit a crime! Wanna be the cause of a fight! I wanna put on a tight skirt and flirt with a stranger." Singing, he grips the stair rails facing his lovelies in his hands and thrusts up close, rolling his hips into the frame work as he does so. Cat calls, wolf whistles, and Cassidy smiles to them, feeling a rush of happiness. This is what he lives to do, right here. Well, maybe not here, grinding up into a metal stair rail, but you get the idea. He takes a few steps down

"I've had a knack, from way back, at breaking the rules, once I learn the games! Get up—" four more steps down, "life's too quick, I know someplace sick—" he races down and grabs the long pole that runs from floor to ceiling, strategically placed beside the railing for this kind of a stunt. He swings around and lands gracefully beside Carlotta, who's shaking her ass at the same time the dancer at stage left is, and he wraps an arm around her waist. "Where this chick will dance in the flames!" He plants a quick, friendly kiss on her cheek before gliding on over towards the center of the main stage.

"We don't need any money, I always get in for free." He spins in a circle, his hands over his head as he stops beside his best friend, Brad, who's dressed in red booty shorts and black suspenders, knee high boots and exactly the same makeup. He grabs Brad's right hand and places it over his crotch, reaching up and grabbing the older man's hair. Brad bends his head down and clamps his teeth not-too-gently into Cassidy's neck, grinding his hips into the designer's ass.

"You can get in too, if you get in with me—" Brad pulls away, kissing the mark as Drake LaBry, another friend of Cassidy's, dances up beside them both. "Let's go out tonight! I have to go out tonight!" Almost like synchronized swimmers, the three of them raise their arms above their heads in x's, rocking their hips back and forth to the beat. "You wanna play? Let's run away, we won't be back before it's Christmas Day! Take me out tonight—" Cassidy turns towards Brad as the older brunette drops to his knees, looking up at the performer with a smile on his face as Drake thrusts his hips into Cassidy's ass, just as Brad had done moments before.

"Meow—" Cassidy sings, stroking Brad's cheek before grabbing the back of his head firmly in his hand. Cassidy drops his head against Drake's shoulder, shoving Brad's face into his crotch as Drake grinds against him again. "Ha!" The two boys split off from Cassidy as he turns away from the audience and trots back up stage, shaking his ass as he does so and spinning in circles now and then before gripping onto a pole about up-center. He turns back to the crowd, curling one leg around it and swinging around once.

"When I get a wink from the doorman, do you know how lucky you'll be? That you're online with the feline of Avenue B!" Cassidy grinds his hips into the pole, crouching down and slowly sliding back up, leaning back. "Let's go out tonight, I have to go out tonight!" He lets go, gliding across the floor as several other dancers— including Carlotta, Drake and Brad— crawl over to him, grabbing his arms and legs, touching his chest, his ass and leaving kisses all over him. He stares down at those by his feet, smiling.

"You wanna prowl and be my night owl? Well, take my hand, we're gonna howl out tonight!" The split off one by one as Cassidy stares off into the distance, going down to his knees, looking so passive and beautiful that there's questionable sounds coming from some of the guys in the crowd. But Cassidy doesn't give them a second thought or even a smile. He stares right through them. He feels the burning gazes of dozens of guys who want him, maybe even a few ladies (it's not uncommon for the ladies to venture into gay performance clubs like this).

"In the evening I've got to roam, I can't sleep in the city of neon and chrome! It feels too damn much like home when the Spanish babies cry. So let's find a bar," Cassidy shifts and begins to stand on his feet, his passive face stretching with a mischievous grin laced with desire. "So dark we forget who we are! And all the scars from the never's and maybe's die!" He throws his head back and his arms stretched out wide before he walks backward slowly towards the pole again, gripping it tightly in his right palm. He swings around, gripping the pole with both hands and holding it as if it's almost a lifeline. The passiveness is drifting into demanding, dominance, a need that the audience is responding to by throwing cash, flowers, cell phone numbers, all kinds of things.

"Let's go! out tonight. I have to go out tonight!" Cassidy drops to his knees and crawls towards the edge of the stage, facing a line of hopeful men. He grins at them, sitting back and motioning for them to come to him. "You're sweet, wanna hit the street? Wanna wail at the moon like a cat in heat?" He crawls along the edge, towards the front as he sways his hips and shakes his ass as he moves. People reach out and touch him, stroke his hair, touching his face, caress the arc of his back.

"Just take me out tonight!" He slides down onto his side, facing the front row of the audience of down-stage center. "Please, take me out tonight! Don't forsake me— out tonight." He wags a finger at them before sitting up and turning to face them. There's one man who's sitting in the front row, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, a seductive smirk on his lips. Cassidy smiles as he sings. "I'll let you make me— out tonight! Tonight, tonight—" he reaches out and grabs the man with the sinful smirk, pulling him into the light.

"Tonight." He finishes, pulling the stranger over him and catching his lips.

Cassidy has made out with strangers before. He's made out with and fucked strangers before. And to be honest he's not really proud of that fact. But this stranger, with gorgeous blue eyes and glossy black hair, there was something within Cassidy that stirred. And to have this stranger's tongue split the seam of his mouth without hesitation from either of them sent such beautiful chills down the performer's spine. His hands reach up and wind deep into the inky threads and he pulls softly on them, moaning as his right leg lifts up and wraps around the stranger's thigh. There's cheering, whistling, howling, all kinds of things coming from the rest of the audience.

Their tongues clash and dance, before the stranger pulls away and leaves a trail of kisses along his jaw line and down to his neck, leaving small bite marks that make Cassidy moan. More things are thrown onto the stage, but he's not even aware of any of that. He's only aware of the kisses, the bites, the subtle touches and strokes that this beautiful stranger is leaving upon him. He tilts his head back, lifting his hips into the stranger's, smiling as he hears a soft, seductive moan.

He kisses the man again and holds him still for a moment. "Meet me backstage." He whispers just over the noise, and the man kisses him again. They pull apart from one another and Cassidy stands, waving and blowing kisses to his lovelies. Drake and Brad are gathering his flowers and his cash for him. It's a routine. They do it for him, he does it for them. And on the days where they don't have work, they go out for drinks and some alone time together. It's fun, and they're safe about it all, so it's okay.

Cassidy rushes off the stage so the next act can get ready. He turns a dark corner and slips out into the hallway just as the black haired stranger comes through the door from the front hall of the club. He smiles as he hurries up and wraps his arms around the taller man's neck, kissing him again. His heart is pounding in his chest as the two of them stumble together down the hall. There's a couple of rooms in the back, usually for things like this or if the dancers just want to lounge before their acts. Cassidy pulls away from the man's lips for a moment, grabbing the first room on the right and turning the knob. It's dark and unlocked, which means it's not in use.

Cassidy tugs on the man's arm, bringing him inside and closing the door, locking it and turning on the lights, setting them dimly. He pushes the man backwards until he falls onto a large, plush bed covered with white sheets and a soft, rose colored comforter. The man smiles, his icy blue eyes gleaming in the lighting. Cassidy moans as he straddles the stranger's hips and he kisses him again, very softly.

"What's your name, baby?" He asks, leaving kisses on his face. The man sighs in content.

"Adam." Cassidy smiles gently, kissing him again.

"I'm—"

"You're Cassidy." The performer frowns for a moment. "Brad and Drake told me. They're friends of mine. They've told me a lot about you, Cass." Adam says, stroking Cassidy's cheek with his delicate, manicured fingertips. The smaller male shivers quietly, and Adam smiles.

"They said I should see your show tonight. I'm glad I did." Adam pulls Cassidy down and kisses him again, though this isn't like their kiss on the stage. It's sweet, passionate, and slow. It makes Cassidy moan and his heart leap to his throat. No one's ever been slow with him. No one's ever been passionate, and it almost makes Cassidy want to cry in joy for this beautiful angel. He strokes Adam's cheek with his thumb before cupping his face, deepening the kiss as Adam rolls him over so that he's beneath the broad shouldered, black haired man. But it's not forceful nor demanding. It's comfortable.

Cassidy pulls away slowly, breathing hard. "Is this what you do often? Attend shows your friends suggest and then make out with the performers?" Adam laughs and Cassidy smiles wide, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as Adam bites down on his neck and sucking hard.

"Is that what you want me to do?" Adam whispers into his neck. "Come to you shows, throw myself onto your stage—" Cassidy doesn't let him finish as he kisses the blue-eyed male again, pulling hard on his hair.

'More than you know.'