For all those wondering, and for all those who care, there is very little worse in the world than opening an email from your landlord, saying you've been kicked out. It wasn't Yuuri's fault necessarily. He was a full time student, and had a part time job, and while that normally was enough to pay the rent off of, a few unexpected bills here and there, and Yuuri just wasn't able to make his payments on time anymore. He knew very well that his now ex-landlord was a stickler for punctuality, and yet here he was.
Yuuri was blessed enough to have good friends to help him in his time of need. More specifically, he was blessed to have Phichit. The two boys had been friends for years. They had met while Yuuri was still in his undergrad, at the same university where they both studied communications. They became good friends through late-night study sessions and movie marathons on weekends. Even though Phichit was a few years younger, and two years behind in school, it didn't deter their friendship at all. So when Yuuri was in a bind, he called his friend immediately, and that's how he ended up unloading boxes of stuff and finding a place for them in the spare room of Phichit's apartment.
While it was technically a one-bedroom flat, there was an extra room that was meant to be office space, but Phichit had set it up with a full sized bed he'd picked up at a yard sale. The space was normally designated as the "drunk room", where all of his friends who were too inebriated to walk to drive home could spent the night. But now Yuuri was going to be making full use of it as his room.
"I can't thank you enough." Yuuri said for the hundredth time that day alone.
"Don't mention it." The thai boy dropped a box on top of the bed. "It'll be nice to not live alone anymore, and splitting the rent is going to help out a lot."
"I'm going to start looking for a better job." Yuuri fumbled with a strand of packing tape that was stuck to his fingers. They had finished bringing everything from his car inside, now they just needed to unpack. "That media tech thing just doesn't pay enough anymore." It was a job that Yuuri had gotten his sophomore year of college, and at the time he was just thankful to find a job. For an undergrad, still living in dorm housing, with no real expenses, it had been perfect. But now it just wasn't enough. The only problem was that Yuuri didn't have any experience working any job other than that one, so it would be hard to find another.
"Why don't you just find a job that's basically that one, but somewhere other than the school's theater department?" Phichit suggested.
"Where do I even look for that?"
"Hmm." The pair fumbled with Yuuri's bedspread as they tried to replace the crummy fitted sheet on the mattress already with Yuuri's own. "You could try clubs or something? You did a lot with lighting and sound right?"
"A club huh?" Yuuri thought about, but then ultimately shook his head. "I'm not really into that kind of scene though."
"You don't need to be into the scene to be into the paycheck."
It was that last point that Phichit made that lead Yuuri to where he was now. After one week of hunting online for places hiring in the area, and being tired of preppy theater groups, Yuuri finally buckled down and started looking at bars, concert venues, and nightclubs. He submitted a few online applications that he could find, and just waited. He managed to get a phone interview with one club, but shortly afterwards got an email saying it wasn't a good fit.
Yuuri was sitting in the library, doing research for his masters' thesis, Yuuri's phone started vibrating in his pocket. The man scrambled to run to a place where he could answer without disrupting the other people in the library. He ended up in the bathroom.
"Hello?"
"Yes. Is this Mr. Yuuri Katsuki?"
"Yes, it is." Yuuri felt the odd need to straighten up, despite the voice on the other end not being able to see him. It was a low voice, definitely male, but it was impossible to tell age.
"Good. I'm calling from Eros and Agape, we received your application yesterday."
Yuuri wracked his brain to try and remember which one that was. He had sent in way too many applications, he couldn't remember which ones were which. It sounded like a club, but it could have been a bar.
"Would you be able to come in for an interview?"
"Yes. Definitely." Yuuri agreed quickly.
"Good. I know it's last minute, but would you be able to come in tonight?"
"Tonight?" Yuri thought about what he had to do later on that day. He had formally quit his other job, so he didn't need to go to work. He had just planned on working on his thesis all day. "Tonight would be fine."
"Perfect. I'll send you an email reminding you of our address." The voice on the other end said. "We open at eight, could you come sometime before then?"
"I could be there at seven?"
"Perfect. We'll see you then."
The call ended with the man on the other end hanging up. Only seconds later, Yuuri got an email notification with the address pasted inside. Yuuri looked it up, and saw that it was a twenty minute drive away from Phichit's apartment. Perfect. He had plenty of time to go back, wash up some, and change. He rushed out of the library, packed up his belongings, and rushed to his car. He had three hours before he would have needed to leave, but Yuuri always got anxious about times. He was too nervous thinking he might get lost on the way, even with GPS.
The outside of the building was nothing special. It was painted dark, with no windows and an awning over the big wooden door. Across the outside wall, in large lettering that looked like it would light up when the sun went down was the name of the club.
Eros & Agape
It was definitely a club. Yuuri could tell from the moment he opened the heavy door. The scent of heavy duty cleaning fluid burned into his nostrils. There was a small hallway, passing bathrooms and a coat check, before opening up into a large room. It wasn't anything like Yuuri was expecting, not that he really had any expectations. Right now the room was brightly lit. On one side of the room there was a bar, on the other a large stage. The walls along the sides were lined with rounded booths like you would see in a restaurant. The space in the middle had tables and chairs that could easily be picked up and moved to create a dancefloor. While the entire place did have a very classy feel to it, the spot that did draw the most attention was the stage. Right now the black, velvet curtains were pulled to the side, revealing the black painted stage completely. The wall on the back of the stage had white and black curtains alternating in wide stripes. What caught Yuuri's attention the most was the long, metal pole that stood in the center of the stage, attaching from the ground to the ceiling. It didn't take a genius to figure out that that pole meant.
"Can I help you?" The voice surprised Yuuri, causing him to jump in his skin. He turned around, and saw a man standing behind the bar, carrying a crate of liquor. The man was tall and fit. His hair, which was so light in color that it almost looked white, was trimmed very short except for the bangs that were swept to the side. Yuuri could only see the black button down shirt that he wore, with the top two buttons undone, and the sleeved rolled up above his elbows. Yuuri had to stop himself from staring.
"Y-Yes." Yuuri approached the bar. "I'm here for an interview. I was called earlier today."
"Ah." The man's face relaxed into a smile as he slid the crate onto the bar counter. He gestured for Yuuri to sit down in one of the stools before he began putting bottles away on the back of the bar, organizing in an unknown system. "I think Chris is going to be doing your interview. Our manager, Yakov, he's out tonight." The then turned to Yuuri, and gave the nervous male a quick lookover. "You should really lose the tie."
"Huh?" Yuuri looked down at his own clothes. He had thrown on a black suite, one of his few formal wear items, and a light blue tie. "Oh, too much?"
"Only a little." The man chuckled.
"Viktor! Have you seen my-" A tall guy with bleached-blond hair walked into the large area from a side door that must have lead to a back area. He wore only a white t-shirt and a pair of dark sweatpants. "Oh. You Yuuri? One sec, I need to find my clipboard."
"Just as together as always." The man behind the counter muttered.
It didn't take more than five minutes for the man to come back, clipboard and pen in hand, and sit down on the stool next to Yuuri. He tapped his knuckle against the counter, and as though it were code, the barman pulled out three glasses with ice, and placed them on napkins on the counter. He pulled an handle of whiskey off the bar shelf, and measured out a shot into each glass, before adding Coke until the glasses were full. One was slid across to Yuuri.
"So introductions first." The bleached-blonde began after a sip of the drink. "My name's Chris, you've already met Viktor." He gestured to the bartender. "I really don't like formal things, so just think of this as a little chat to get to know you better."
"Alright." Yuuri nodded. He picked up his own glass, eyeing it before deciding to take a sip. In these kinds of interview situations, drinking when offered was usually the polite thing to do. It tastes fine. The soda covered up most of the taste of the alcohol.
"So then, you're applying for sound tech right?" Chris jotted a few notes on a piece of lined paper.
"Yes." Yuuri nodded. "I can also do lighting though."
"We don't usually do a whole lot with lighting, but that's good to keep in mind."
Viktor leaned across the bar, leaning on crossed arms. He looked over at the printed version of the Yuuri's resume. "Oh good. You can legally drink."
"Why would I have had you pour him a drink if he couldn't?" Chris raised an eyebrow, but only received a shrug in response.
The interview continued. Chris asked questions about the kinds of shows Yuuri had done tech for, the kind of equipment he use used to, and what his personal schedule was like. The interview itself was very relaxed, although it was a tad awkward that this Viktor guy was hanging around the bar, listening in as Yuuri answered.
"Alright well," Chris finished up, flipping through the notes he'd jotted down. "Do you have any questions for us?"
Yuuri looked around the venue once more, taking note once again of the structure of the room, and the general design. "Just to clarify. Would you consider this a 'nightclub' or a… well for lack of a better term 'strip club'?"
Something about what he said must have just been really funny because Chris immediately started laughing. Even Viktor, who had his back turned so that it was impossible to see his facial expressions, snickered at the question. "Sorry." Chris began an explanation. "I guess you could say both. During the week run just like any other bar or club in the city. On weekends though, and the occasional holiday, we do have performances of the exotic dance variety." The bleach-blond studied the facial expression of the man he was interviewing. "Is that a problem?"
Yuuri immediately shook his head. "I've done work for plays that had a lot of nudity and sexual themes, so it doesn't bother me. Actually, I commend the people who do it."
"Well thank you." Chris propped his chin up on the back of his hand, and leaned onto the bar counter. "We do our best."
It took a solid thirty seconds for two and two to click together within Yuuri's mind. "You're one of the dancers." For some reason, it hadn't come out as a question, but rather a statement.
"He's one of our veterans." Viktor said over his shoulder, flashing mocking grin and a quick wink.
"Hey, I'm not old enough to be calling a 'veteran'." Chris spat. In an act of pettiness, he took a mostly melted ice cube from his otherwise empty glass, and dropped it right on the countertop. Viktor rolled his eyes, before grabbing a washcloth and wiping down the now wet surface. "Why don't you come by this Friday? See if you can handle it."
"Does that mean-" Yuuri stopped himself before he could voice his assumption outloud.
"Consider it a test run before we make a decision." Chris stood up from his stool and offered out a hand. Yuuri stood up too. The pair shook hands briefly. "I'll put your name on the VIP list, and we'll give you a plus one so you don't have to come alone. Anyone eighteen plus is fine. You won't even have to pay a cover fee."
"Phichit, you're great, and I really do owe you one for letting me crash here…. But why do I need to dress like this?" Yuuri stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. His fashion-crazy friend had dressed him up in a purple v-neck tee shirt, and black jeans. He wasn't too crazy about how tight the shirt was, because it showed more of his stomach than he would have liked.
"You finally tell me that we're going to a club, a strip club, no less, and you don't want me to dress you up?" Phichit forced a black leather jacket into Yuuri's hands. The look on his face was stern, making sure to say 'you are going to wear this and you are going to like it'. The younger male was dressed similarly, but in opposing colors; gray skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a black vest.
While Yuuri did agree that it was fun to dress up on occasion, it was also not really his style. He didn't like being flashy or gaudy. It was never in his personality to try and be the most attractive guy in the room. But if he wanted this job, he was going to have to dress up more than he was used to. He was just lucky that Phichit let him keep his glasses on.
When the pair got to Eros & Agape there was already a line outside the door and to the end of the block, and it was only half an hour after opening. Yuuri and Phichit bypassed the line, and walked straight up to the bouncer, as instructed by Chris. He was a tall man, with tanned skin and short auburn hair.
"Y-Yuuri Katsuki." He cursed himself to stumbling on his own name. "Chris told me to come."
The man didn't say a word before pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket. "Can I see his ID?"
Phichit immediately had his wallet out, pulling out his ID and handing it to the bouncer. The bouncer flicked his eyes over it, before handing it back and standing to the side, allowing the two to walk passed, into the club.
The lights were a lot dimmer than when Yuuri had been there for his interview just days before. The tables in the center were arranged in a way that allowed people to either sit close to the stage, or stand and mingle by the bar. Music pulsed through the air. There was already a crowd. Most of the booths were occupied, as well as many of the front row seats to the stage. Almost everyone's eyes were glued to that stage.
A young girl stood on stage in heels that looked like they were made to murder, and little else. She circled the large, standing metal poll, one hand on it at all times as she moved her hips to the music. The beat in the song dropped, and suddenly her outside leg was hooked around the poll, and she was holding herself of the ground, spinning with her back arched and her head thrown back. Several whistles were heard from the crowd.
Yuuri peeled his eyes off the stage, a slight flush on his cheeks, and grabbed Phichit by the wrist. He pulled his friend with him to the bar. Thankfully it wasn't too crowded yet, and they were able to secure two stools to sit on. They immediately caught the eye of the bartender, Viktor, who walked right over the second he finished serving a few shots to a few women at the end of the bar.
"Yuuri, right?" Viktor flashed a grin. He looked exactly the same as he had the night Yuuri interviewed, black button down shirt and all. The ashen blond man leaned over the side of the bar, flashing a playful grin. "I almost didn't recognize you without the hideous tie."
"First of all, rude." Yuuri frowned at the man. "Second, how's the night going so far?"
Viktor raised an eyebrow at the question. "Not bad. Waiting for the second bartender to come back from the bathroom so I'm not alone back here. No one's thrown their drink at me yet, but the night it still young. Speaking of, you guys want me to open a tab for you, or are you paying as you go?"
"Tab if you could." Phichit jumped in, handing a credit card to the bartender so that he could run the information to charge after the night was over. Yuuri did the same.
"Now what can I get for you gentlemen?" Viktor said as he handed their credit cards back.
"Manhattan. Could you put it in a regular glass though?" It didn't even take a second for Phichit to give his order, as though he'd been thinking about it all night.
Viktor nodded before turning his head to Yuuri. "And you?"
Yuuri thought about it for a second before just naming the first thing that came to mind. "Redbull vodka?"
A smile appeared on Viktor's face as he turned his back to the pair and pulled two glasses of the shelf. He started mixing Phichit's drink first, stirring the whiskey and vermouth in a larger glass before pouring it into the one he'd be serving. "Alright now Yuuri, this question is very important." He said when he turned to slide the manhattan to its proper owner. "Do you know how to appreciate good vodka?"
Yuuri cocked an eyebrow. "I think so."
"Hmmm. We'll have to test this then." Viktor pulled out three shot glasses, before turning to the back of the bar and pulling a bottle off the top shelf. He poured out three shots, and handed one to each, lifting his own to cheers. "This my favorite one, straight from the motherland."
They all took the shot together. "Wow." Yuuri said immediately after swallowing the alcohol. "That is the smoothest thing I've ever had."
The grin on Viktor's face was wide. He measure out two shots into a glass, followed by half a can of redbull, and passed it across to Yuuri. "Now keep your eyes on that stage. That's what you're here to see tonight."
Dancers came on and off the stage the whole night, each one just as impressive as the last. Phichit got really into cheering for them. There a good mix of men versus women performers, and a variety of acts. Chris' was down right slutty, something Yuuri had not expected to see. He didn't think he would ever get the image of that man, in only a blue, sparkling thong, doing mid-air splits on a poll out of his head for as long as he lived. It was weird knowing that this was the guy who was likely to make the decision of if Yuuri was going to be hired or not. He was beyond skilled though, without a doubt.
Yuuri and Phichit left the club before midnight and after only three drinks each. They were smart enough to take a cab their, rather than drive, so they stood out by the door and waited until they could hop in the back of a car and ride home. Neither were necessarily drunk, but there was enough of a slight buzz that it well worth the cost of the drinks.
A few days later, Yuuri stepped out of the shower and checked his phone to see he had a voicemail from an unsaved number. When he opened up the message to listen to it, he instantly recognized Chris' voice.
'Hey Yuuri. Just calling to let you know that if you still want to job, you've got it. Come in tomorrow night at six o'clock and we'll get you started."