Page 58 of Pieces of Me

“Why do you have to drink a lot in VIP?” Rylan asked with frank curiosity, pushing his own drink away. After gazing out over the crowd for a moment, Scott turned to Rylan with a shrug.

“Some out-of-town guys booked me for a couple of hours tonight,” he answered. “That means I have to take them up to VIP and keep the drinks flowing, be their evening’s private entertainment.”

“And they want you to drink with them?”

“Of course. I’ll take my clothes off and get them drunk, and I’ll make sure they keep buying the club’s alcohol and tipping me. If they want me to do a shot, I do a shot.”

“Do you―” Rylan broke off, slashing his hand in unmistakable meaning.

“Nah.” Scott shook his head. “I’m not a rent boy. We’ll keep everything in the public area, and if the dudes get too handsy or insistent, the bouncers will shut it down. When they book me, it’s made clear I’m not available for sex. Some of the guys are, and that’s okay if they want to make outside-the-club arrangements, but I’m not about that. Not―”

Rylan got the impression he was about to say “anymore,” but Scott pressed his lips together, refusing to elaborate.

A man walked up and touched Scott on the arm. As Rylan watched in fascination, Scott’s face changed, morphed by a practiced and calculating heat, suffused with overt sensuality. Rylan blinked. It made Scott look―fake, hard, like he was putting on a mask. Rylan couldn’t deny he wore it well, the other man responding to it with enthusiasm, asking if he could buy Scott a drink, or if he’d like to dance with him.

Scott posed for a selfie with the guy, their arms wrapped around each other, and Scott steered him toward the bar. “Why don’t you have a couple of shots, sexy, and I’ll find you later, okay?” He pressed up against the man’s back, letting his hands graze his hips. “I need to go get ready for my part of the show, but after―”

The man gulped and nodded, flagging down the bartender as instructed. Scott pulled away, his fingertips drifting across the guy’s lower back. “See ya.”

Rylan followed as he strode off in the opposite direction, smiling and waving at people and telling them “later.”

“You gonna hook up with that guy?” Rylan asked him, dodging some of the small knots of patrons drooling over the go-go dancers. Scott glanced at him.

“Who?”

“The guy just now. At the bar.”

Scott snorted. “Fuck no. But my job is to make him think I will, keep him hanging around, tipping the dancers and buying drinks. It’s all part of the game. He got a little attention, a pic he can post on Instagram, and after a while, he’ll give up and go home. I’m due upstairs in an hour anyway.” He lifted his chin toward the balcony area, and Rylan looked up. He couldn’t see anything but a neon purple and green glow, a few shadowy figures leaning over the rail and looking down at the masses below.

Scott bumped knuckles with a bouncer guarding the entrance to a hallway, and he stepped back to let them by, giving Scott a wink. “The ladies are in a mood tonight,” he said in an amused tone. “Keep ’em in line, will ya?”

“You know it.” Scott introduced the bouncer to Rylan, saying, “He’s able to come and go as he pleases, Jerry, all right? All access, no restrictions.”

“Got it, boss.”

Rylan followed Scott down the hallway to a door marked Talent, and Scott gave a brief knock and walked in, Rylan on his heels. Inside the room was organized chaos, and loud, excited chatter filled the air.

Scott waded into the fray, accepting hugs and air kisses from heavily made-up drag queens, some half undressed. There was a round table set in the center of the room with a sort of light tree on it, the “branches” each holding a bright makeup light on the end of it. A queen sat in front of each light doing touchups, gluing on false eyelashes, and refreshing lipstick. Glue sticks, makeup brushes, and palettes were strewn everywhere.

“Hey, ladies!” Scott called out, and the chatter ceased. “This is Rylan, and he’s auditioning tonight to join us as one of our official photographers. So let’s make him look good, all right? Because I really, really want him to work here.” Scott winked at him, which made Rylan feel a little quivery inside.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. “Pleased to meet you all.”

“Baby!” Teena swooped down on him from across the room. “Welcome! This is the little photographer boy I was telling y’all about! Isn’t he the cutest thing?” She patted his cheek to a chorus of agreement from around the room. “Come on. Let me introduce you to all these sluts.”

She struck a pose. “I, of course, am the―”

“―biggest ho!” came the catcall, interrupting Teena’s attempt to be dramatic. Teena shot a glare at the offender and strolled across the room toward her, twirling her rainbow boa like in some cheesy burlesque show, her generous hips swinging.

“You know what this is, Dee?” she crooned, stopping with one elegant hand on her hip, her head cocked to the side. “This is me―on my way to steal your man.”

“Like I said,” Dee quipped, looking at Rylan and winking, “big ho!”

“Bitch,” Teena said without real heat. “I’ll poison your pinot.”

Dee grabbed her wineglass with a look of mock horror, covering it with one hand. “You wouldn’t! Okay, girl, you win. Take the man and go!”

The other queens burst into laughter, and when it subsided, they all went around the room introducing themselves. Besides the Teena Teeze―Rylan had to laugh―there was Dee Lyte, Sheer Blyss, Tawny Wolfe, and Sarita.