Spread (A Club Deep Story)

By: Penny Wylder


Everything clicks. The paper she handed to the bouncer. Downstairs at the main bar. Cosette is going to audition. I turn back to her. “You’re serious?”

“It’s good money, Libby, and you know I need it. I know it’s a sex club, but I’ll just be dancing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was too nervous to come by myself.”

I bite my lip. I can’t argue with the fact that she needs the money. We both do. I have a job, but Libby has been struggling to find work, and neither of us have ever been able to find jobs as dancers, despite trying. Not a lot of those available in Phoenix. My parents weren’t rich, and they didn’t leave me much. Most of that is gone from just trying to survive. Taking a deep breath, I push down my embarrassment about the whole sex thing. It’s my deal. “Well, then, you better do a damn good audition.”

The relief on her face is almost painful. Did she really think I’d stop her from getting a job? Or not be supportive of her? After everything we’ve been through together, she should know better than that.

She heads over to where the sign is posted, where a man with a clipboard is standing. He takes her paper and smiles, the kind of generic smile you give someone when you’ve smiled too much for one day and are exhausted. I can only imagine what it would be like to run auditions in a club like this. I move down to the end of the bar so I can watch her. This isn’t exactly our kind of dancing—Cosette and I met in ballet classes when we were really young. But this can’t be that hard, the music has a beat so strong that it practically does all of the work for you.

Cosette replaces a dancer on the stage as the song changes, and she starts to move. Her movements are smooth and sexy. A little slower than the tempo of the song, but she looks good. That’s when I hear it. The man with the clipboard is yelling, “That’s not enough if you want the job.”

I see Cosette falter for a second, but she gets it back, until the asshole opens his mouth again. “You’re the last dancer of the day, sweetheart. You need to show me something amazing for me to want you.”

Are you serious? Who does this guy think he is? All he’s doing is getting in her head, and I can see it. Her movements are becoming more awkward. She’s second guessing herself. Well fuck that. We’ve been dancing together almost since we could walk, and she’s going to remember that. I stride past the clipboard asshole and lift myself onto the stage. Cosette opens her mouth, and I know that she’s going to ask me what I’m doing, but I don’t give her the chance. “Let’s dance. Show that asshole what we’ve got.”

I throw myself into the dance without hesitation, letting the music move me with it, just like Cosette and I used to do when we would take over the dance studio we attended and just dance for fun. Dance like it doesn’t matter, like there’s nothing but you and the music. We dance separately and then we dance together before moving apart again, and for a moment it’s just this. It’s like nothing bad has ever happened and we’re two girls in a basement choreographing dances to our favorite songs. But when I look out into the club, I can’t pretend that there’s nobody watching. Actually, a lot of people are watching.

Something old and buried comes roaring to the surface, and I stop dancing and start performing. A small cheer goes up from the people watching, and I glance over at Cosette to find her smiling, dancing better than ever. Who would have thought that I would have this kind of fun at a sex club? But it is fun. More fun than I’ve had in a long time. I’ve always loved having an audience, and now is no exception.

I feel eyes on me, and this is different than the crowd. A man is standing in crowd, towering over the people around him, and our eyes lock. They’re a pale crystal blue that I can see even from here, and they make me shiver. Totally in contrast with the way that smirk on his face makes me feel like I’m on fire. His eyes roam down my body and I let mine do the same: Button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and forearms that are rock hard. His shirt is tight, and it doesn’t do anything to hide the fact that he’s built. He has a face that’s all angles, gorgeous in a severe way, like almost too perfect to be believed. My body heats up again, and my dancing changes with it, becoming slower, more sensual.

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