Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco

I wouldn't be caught dead in this place.

by CyanideSunlight 5 reviews

Brendon frequently goes to a strip club, even though he's married to Mary. Will she find out?

Category: Panic! At The Disco - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Drama - Published: 2011-06-17 - Updated: 2012-08-04 - 1453 words

Re=published because my friend edited it and it sounds amazing okay.
more will come soon.


I took a small sip of my drink, just a simple rum and coke, and continued staring straight ahead of myself. I could see Ryan receiving a lap-dance out of the corner of my eye a few tables away; the busty-babe smirking at him from under her half-mask. Unlike Ryan, I wasn’t in the mood for any ‘servicing’ and so I was alone with only my drink for company. I noticed that the new girl, the one that had started last week, was staring at me - I could see her eyes through the narrow slits of her half-mask - and I looked closely at her even as she averted her gaze and disappeared around the bar; she seemed familiar…

Of all the women working at the club she was probably the only one who hadn’t serviced me, or Ryan either, and I still knew the names of every woman who worked at the club; like Talia, the busty-babe working her physical magic on Ryan. Of a day she worked at the local convenience store; selling products to inconsiderate and often arrogant customers.

Her shoulder-length brown hair glittered in the low-lighting, small specks of glitter shining and giving her a sort of other-worldly appeal. Taller than the average woman, her extra height made her all the more appealing to customers at the club and those bright, emerald eyes could draw in even the most angered or reluctant of men. But it was her mask, and outfit, that really drew your gaze. Most clubs don’t bother with a mask to half-hide their strippers but that’s why I liked this one; the midnight black mask that covered the top-half of Talia’s face had gold, glittered lining and half-a-dozen feathers on either side - the feathers were as black as the mask and curved around the sides of her head making it look like she had a sort of mythical crown on. It was truly enthralling.

No one mask was the same, they each differed somehow. For some of them it was nigh on impossible to tell which was which unless you looked closely; which is probably why the girls weren’t offended whenever they were called the wrong name. My usual ‘lady’, Ren, was working at the next table over. Her mask was royal blue with ruby-red sequins sewed around the eye-holes. Like Talia she had glitter in her hair also except, unlike Talia’s brown locks, it made Ren look like she was on fire; the red waves of waist-length hair splayed out on her back shone with every move she made.

Ren too had a day job, working in the local bakery making some of the most delicious cakes you’d ever eat. She was shorter than Talia but no less stunning to look at; with chocolate brown eyes that make your stomach clench and every nerve in your body come alive whenever she glanced at you.

Normally I’d have gladly accepted Ren’s attentions when I arrived but I’d realized earlier today, with a pang of surprise and guilt that it was my anniversary tomorrow and Mary would be at home, waiting for me to return. She’d mentioned that there was a new restaurant that had opened on the end of our road; a fancy-looking place that was probably bit as expensive as it looked. I don’t think I’ll be able to get a reservation before tomorrow, especially when I doubt I’d be able to handle the atmosphere those damned places have, but I can make her a nice dinner tomorrow; maybe get some nice wine and some calorie-ridden desert that I know she’ll like. I don’t know if she’ll like that, instead of going to a fancy-restaurant, but it won’t matter when I get her in bed with me; she’s never been able to resist my gaze, my liquid chocolate eyes. It’s probably one of the few, very few, reasons that she’s still with me.

The new girl, the familiar yet unfamiliar one, had reappeared again and was watching me. I gave her a long look, taking in her mask - cataloging every detail of it and her - before I threw back the last of my drink, grimacing at the sharp taste on the back of my throat. Deciding to leave before the headache I’d been nursing turned into a full-blown migraine - damned music - I threw down some bills to cover for my drinks and stepped out into the night.

Like the staff that worked at the club, the customers all had their own masks - although these weren’t tailor-made for us - that we wore whilst inside. I shoved mine into my coat pocket just as I passed Jasmine, on her way into work. She was another regular, alongside Ren, with elbow-length jet black hair that curled and bounced as she walked. Her sharp blue eyes caught my gaze, the brightness of the blue stones amplified by the black eyeliner and mascara. Shorter than most, she just about reached my shoulders, even with heels on, but she was a great little dancer. I gave her a nod and a small smile, which she returned, before focusing on my journey home.

Mary was already asleep when I got in, so I grabbed a couple of pain-killers to stave off my headache, undressed and slid into bed next to her; she wrapped her arms around my back and together we slept.


By the time I woke up I expected Mary to be awake and gone, off to work, but she was still there. I dressed silently, grabbed some a quick snack before creeping out the door and heading to work. Though the club was illegal, technically, it got a lot of business and, like any business, it needed someone to clean-up the mess; it was decent pay for cleaning up vomit and other things alongside the usual stuff of mopping, hovering and so on, but it’s not the most desirable job in the world. I was done around noon so I got my money from the manager; all cash-in-hand and under the ‘radar’ so to speak, before leaving.

I bumped into Spencer, my other best friend; he and Ryan were some of my oldest buddies and we always kept each others secrets - it was a matter of principle really. Spencer’s sharp baby-blue eyes stared at me accusingly; he, like Ryan, knew I was cheating on Mary and he hated it. Or, should I say, he hated lying to Mary about it.

“Did you go to the club last night again Brendon?” He asked, not quite managing to sound as casually curious as he wanted it to.

“Yeah. Just ‘cause you don’t like the place doesn’t mean I’ll stop going.” I answered sharply, I was tired of his opinion of the place.

Giving me a sharp, disapproving look - as though that mattered to me - he clicked his tongue before changing the subject; wisely. “What are you going to do for your anniversary?”

It wasn’t exactly a good subject matter to discuss but it was slightly better than anything to do with the club. Sort of.

“I’m making her dinner.” I answered, standing tall and refusing to look away from my friend.

“What about the restaurant that’s opened on your street? I heard she wanted to go there today.” Spencer counted, his voice sharp and filled with muted-annoyance at my response. Of course she’d have talked to him about her plans; Spencer and Mary were friends.

“It’s as expensive as it is fancy; I don’t have the cash for that sort of thing.” I replied, hating the fact that I was showing a weakness to him, he might be my friend and he might keep my secrets for me but it still stings a little to admit you’re too strapped for cash that you can’t even afford a nice anniversary dinner for your wife of ten years.

“I’ll borrow you some cash if you want?” Spencer suggested, the disapproval about my time spent at the club gone. His tone was softer, more sympathetic and that grated on my nerves.

“It’s fine.” I said quickly shaking my head slightly. “Really it is.” I insisted as he looked at me doubtfully. “I got to go mate. See you later.” I added before hurrying away from him, leaving him in the middle of the street staring at my retreating back.
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