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“Don’t your guys mind you coming here?” I ask Autumn. “Aren’t they jealous?”
“I haven’t seen the show in a long time,” she explains. “I just wanted to come for the party, since Duke is working, but actually, being here is giving me warm memories of when I first met Trevor, Adrian, and Duke.” She shakes her head, looking lost in her thoughts. “It’s pretty wild how I got together with all four of my men. I’ll have to tell you about it sometime.”
“I have been curious,” I admit.
Garrett’s standing next to a table and gives us a wave as we approach. As we get closer, he offers up a vivid yellow drink in a martini glass to Autumn.
“Is this a lemon drop?” she asks, squinting at the glass. “It’s never looked quite so yellow.”
“It’s called scorpion venom,” Garrett says. “There’s a special drink menu tonight. It was the closest thing to a lemon drop,” he adds.
“Ah, that explainsthis.”Using the tips of her red-painted nails, she fishes a neon plastic insect from her glass before letting it fall back in with a splash.
“What would you like to drink, Sabrina?” Garrett asks, turning my way.
I smile and shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. Surprise me.”
As Garrett pivots to head to the bar, Trevor and Adrian are there, pulling out chairs for us to sit at the table they’ve claimed. They compliment my costume, and the four of us talk for a couple of minutes until Garrett returns, though it’s hard to hear all of the conversation with Janet Jackson’s “Black Cat” vibrating from the room’s sound system.
“Just in time. The show’s about to start,” Autumn says as Garrett hands me a cocktail. Mine is also in a martini glass, but it’s blood red and has a black spider attached to the edge of the glass, one of those rings kids wear. I lick the liquid from the plastic and put the jewelry on my finger after thanking him for the drink.
“Sounds like it’s a good time for us to go find Duke,” Garrett says.
“We’ll be back in later, after the men have stopped gyrating on the stage,” Trevor adds.
“None of them will be as good as you,” Autumn coos before giving each of them a kiss.
“I’ll miss them,” she says after they’ve exited, “but now I can cheer for the show without getting funny looks.”
“So they do mind you watching a little bit.”
A smile teases her lips as she shakes her head. “They don’t mind. They know I don’t want anyone but them.”
The room was already dark, but grows darker still as the lights along the walls are dimmed to a soft glow. Chatter in the crowd dies away for a few long seconds before women start yelling, eager for the show to start. The yelling escalates to screaming when a lone pirate stalks out and takes center stage.
“Good evening. Happy Halloween!” the man says into a microphone after the cheering subsides a fraction. “I’m Chase Stanton, and on behalf of my brothers and myself, I want to welcome you to this very special evening at Club Red.”
The pirate waits a few moments for the screaming to die down again before he continues. “During most of our shows, two or three lucky women get the opportunity to come up on stage and be a part of the action. Tonight… the action is coming to all of you!”
“Are you ready?” His voice booms over the roar of the crowd. “Get ready! Here they come!”
Dark figures file onto the stage as the pirate announcer exits. The opening strains of “Paint it Black” kick off, and when the drumbeats start, the stage lights go bright, revealing dozens more men than were on stage when I was here before. More men than I can count.
As a unit, they go through some moves, and my eyes don’t know where to land. The costumes are varied and interesting; the bodies, revealed in different ways by different costumes, are very appealing.
There are ghouls, vampires, football players, military men, construction workers, zombies, superheros, and many more. It’s dazzling. The men turn, put their hands on the backs of their heads, and rotate their hips in well-practiced coordination.
The crowd was already in a frenzy, and now they’re getting even more worked up. It’s a visual feast, and it’s delicious. The men dance through the end of the song, the lighting changes again, and the spooky playful tune “Goo Goo Muck” fills the room as they start to descend from both sides of the stage and out into the audience.
Autumn and I are seated toward the back of the room, so I just watch the activity, figuring it will be a while before any men reach our table. Women are squealing, reaching out, touching, and as all of that’s happening, more and more men file off the stage, seemingly more than had been out there dancing. Where in the world did they find so many hot men?
Even Autumn looks impressed by the spectacle. “Duke told me there would be a lot of guys,” she says, leaning over to be heard over the noise, “but I didn’t imagine this many.”
“Me either.”
We watch as some of the men pair up with women and lead them to a clearing in the center of the showroom to dance. Other men leave their chosen women in their seats and start to give them lap dances.
“We should move closer to the front, so you can dance,” Autumn says, gesturing with a tip of her head toward the center of the room.
