#ryllwrites

Word count: 1,008 (I’m getting better at writing longer stories😝)

A/N: not proofread at all, and incomplete! I’m going to finish it, but I got soooo excited so I wanted to give a peak!!✨ I used to be a stripper, and I’ve been lowkey missing it so I’m going to make this series as ✨therapy✨😂

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Opening your eyes to darkness became normal to you. The days where you’d wake up early and get to see the sun rise are a distant memory, hell you’re lucky if you catch the sunset these days. Luckily it’s 2026 and vitamin D supplements exist, pretty sure the real thing is better, but you’d rather have night money.

Tonight you packed your bag as if you were running away from home. Stuffed with 3 different heels, probably 10 different outfits, makeup, snacks, and more essentials, it’s Friday you’ll probably need it. Afterward, you do a light base of makeup, you can always touch it up at the club. You learned awhile ago to at least look presentable, you never know how lucky you might get in early hours (early being 8 pm). Not that you need makeup, your bare face definitely sells, but makeup is more fun. It fits the aesthetic.

You hop into your car and likely drive 20 above the speed limit on the way to the club, it feels more eventful that way. Playing all sorts of songs that make you feel like that bitch and get you in the mood to make money for being hot. Unfortunately, the club is around 10 minutes from your home, so you only had time for about 3 songs.

Pulling into the lot, there’s actually a couple cars here already, maybe you should’ve jazzed up your makeup a little more? Too late now.

Walking in, you speak to everyone, because you’re in a good mood and have a really good feeling about tonight.

———-

You do a couple of dances and make some rounds and suddenly it’s 11 pm. You have a decent stack of money, and can honestly go home now if you wanted to, but you’re actually having a bit of fun, and have already decided more people should see your blue cheetah print bikini.

It’s your turn to go on stage again, you always get excited before going on stage. It’s the best part, besides the money obv. In the middle of your set, you feel a set of piercing blue eyes on you. You try to divide your attention amongst everyone throwing you money, but it seems those blue eyes really demand your attention. First throwing ones like everyone else, then fives, tens, twenties, now he’s resulted to throwing stacks. Hell, ignore him long enough and you might get a deed to his house thrown at you. By the third song, you’re finally giving him a bit of attention. Glowing blue eyes, incredibly tall, slender with toned muscles, as he utters

“Fucking beautiful.”

and an incredibly deep voice that sends chills down your spine and heat to your core. It’s normally easy for you to dominate the stage, normally. Today those piercing eyes are making that task incredibly difficult. It’s not like he’s your first attractive customer, you’re young, so you have the benefit of getting attractive customers very often, they find you find and youthful. You’re a little burst of energy, kind of like expresso. Rarely do customers intimidate you.

You’re able to play your mind games with them all, but him? You feel like he’s staring straight through you, he might be hard to fool.

Your set is over, and as you exit the stage, those familiar glowing eyes greet you.

“let’s go to vip.”

Well, that was easy, you didn’t even get the chance to use your corny pickup lines.

“For how long?”

“An hour.”

Even though you don’t know his name, you go to the back with him, you’re feeling a little adventurous tonight.

—-

The hour flew by a too fast. He was an easy going person, so the conversation flowed effortlessly. At the end of the hour, you realized you still didn’t know his name! You both shared so much in common that the conversation skipped all the shallow topics you usually converse about.

“I think I’m going to close the night out.”

The sentence you dreaded hearing most finally came from his lips. The point of VIP is to ALWAYS keep them back there as long as possible, that’s $300 per hour (not including tip)! Spending the night with a young guy who could afford it? EVEN BETTER!

But alas, you can’t always get what you want.

“Do I need you to pay, or could I walk there alone?”

You blink your eyes twice, dumbfounded. If he’s leaving for the night, what does he need to pay for, additional drinks?

“You can get drinks alone, I had fun with you though! I’d love to spend more time with you another time!”

First he stares, dumbfounded as well, then he bursts into a storm of laughter.

“We’re spending the whole night together silly.”

He pats your head a little before paying attention the bar for the room. Normally, you wouldn’t like that type of contact with clientele, but with him it’s different.

He returns with the tickets (*club currency, you exchange for money at the end of the night ) and a couple drinks.

“Thanks, what’s your name by the way?”

“Satoru.”

Satoru, a cute name, you’ve never heard a name like that before.

“Are you from here?”

“No, I’m visiting a buddy of mine. Might have to move here, there’s a cute girl who’s after my heart.”

You playfully hit him, who gave him the right to be so cute?

——

The night flows seamlessly, you didn’t dance the whole night with him. The conversation flowed so well, that you just got to know each other the whole night, aka free money!

You RARELY do this, but since you enjoyed Satoru’s company, you gave him your socials.

“Let me know if you ever need company, I’m here practically everyday.”

“If they have more girls like you here, I may need to bring my roommate.”

“ If your roommate is anything like you, then I’d love to meet him.”

——