Part 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/120714652
Part 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/121216459
The famous club, "Velvet Dreams," was everything you'd imagined—neon lights casting purple shadows across the faces of wealthy patrons, and dancers with skills that made your heart race with both admiration and anxiety.
When your stage name echoed through the speakers, you emerged transformed. The pole became an extension of yourself, cold metal warming to your touch as you executed moves that defied gravity. Every twist, every controlled fall was met with appreciative murmurs and the delicate rain of bills at your feet.
"Fresh meat doesn't last long here," whispered a tall blonde as she passed you backstage. "But you've got something... different.". You weren't sure if that was a compliment. The manager—who now nodded at you with a knowing smirk.