“Right this way.”
Trihn and Preston followed the woman to an empty couch one row back from the stage. A man in a jester costume approached, and Preston ordered drinks for the both of them. He slid his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in closer.
“You brought me here when we could have stayed at home?” he asked. Confusion was evident in his voice.
“Just watch,” she said. She had to agree that, in that moment, she would much rather be at home, laid out on his dining room table. But she also wanted to share this with him…even if it seemed kind of meaningless now that they were there.
The lights dimmed, and a spotlight shone on a single woman in a white dress in the center of the room.
When she began to move, Preston’s eyes widened. “Wha—”
The music was soft and sensual but endearing, and it picked up speed with the girl’s fluid movements. Two other girls appeared, as if from thin air, mirroring the dance on the stage. They danced together and apart. Their bodies slid against each other, morphing into one, and then pulled back to reveal two men in their midst. They had the first girl between them, lifting her into the air. She did an aerial flip onto the ground, and the men joined in on the dance.
A cube trapeze contraption descended from the ceiling in the middle of the performance, and the two men lifted the girl again, tossing her into a flip before she caught the bar.
“This is…not ballet,” Preston breathed into her ear.
“No, it’s not.”
They watched, mesmerized, as the two guys performed acrobatic flips with the girl on the square a dozen feet above the ground. It was terrifying and beautiful and erotic.
When they finished, the crowd applauded the dance and feats of athleticism.
Preston turned to her and cocked his head to the side. “I feel like I’m at Cirque du Soleil.”
“Well, some of these people used to work for them,” she confessed. “Usually, it’s just a burlesque club. The acrobatic dance, trapeze, aerials, pole—”
“Pole?” he asked with raised eyebrows and a dirty smirk.
“Not stripping,” she insisted. “Just acrobatic pole dancing.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Trust me. It’s much more difficult with many more bruises, and it’s not half as sexy as you might think it is. Plus, they keep their clothes on, and they even go to competitions, just like dance or cheer or gymnastics or anything else.”
He held his hands up. “I see you’re passionate about this. Forgive my ignorance,” he said with that same dirty smirk, like he wanted to take her right there on the couch the more vehement she’d become.
“I forgive you,” she joked. “But really…I’ve never brought anyone here before.”
“How did you even find this place?”
Trihn shrugged. “My friend Cassidy started performing here after leaving the company at NYC Dance House. She’s performing tonight.”
“So, do your other friends from the company come here, too?”
Trihn shook her head. “Nah. Cassidy kind of…rubs people the wrong way. She’s very…spirited,” she mused. “This is my secret. No one else knows about it. So, now, I guess…it’s our secret.”
“I like secrets.”
“Good, because my family would probably kill me if they found out I hung out at places like this.”
He laughed and turned back to the stage as the next performers started their routine, and they watched for another hour and a half. As a regular of Slipper, Trihn had seen some of the amazing performances before, but some were brand-new for the show tonight. Every single one of them had given her a rush and reminded her all over again why she loved this so much. It was different than ballet, which was so structured. This was utterly freeing.
Then, Cassidy stepped onto the stage. She was about Trihn’s height with a fire-engine red pixie cut and a toned lean body that was accentuated in the tiny silver crop and shorts combo she was wearing.
A long silver pole, reaching up to the ceiling, materialized in the center of the stage. Her movements were unlike anything anyone could have envisioned. The pole was an extension of her body. Watching her move was like a living art piece.
Anyone who believed that pole dancing was only for strippers had never witnessed Cassidy perform. Just because poles were in strip clubs didn’t mean that the art form belonged to them. Most strippers couldn’t even do the incredible aerial stunts that Cassidy pulled off, thanks to years of training and her incredible gymnastics and dance background. She had come in third this past year at the National Pole Championship in Los Angeles.
Trihn would kill to be in her shoes—to be so sure of her life after high school, so set on her path, so free to do whatever the fuck she wanted.
“She’s really good,” Preston admitted.
“I know.”
“She could be making so much money.”
Trihn laughed and nudged him. “She is. Just look at her.”
Really, no one could tear their eyes off of the stage when Cassidy performed.
Cassidy climbed the pole higher and higher until she could almost touch the ceiling. The music hit a crescendo, and then in her final move, she dropped straight to the ground, a full thirty-feet free-fall, before tightening her body all around the pole and saving herself from certain death, landing a hairbreadth from the ground.
The crowd gasped and then cheered in an uproar. She was brilliant.
Trihn leaped to her feet, applauding her friend. Preston stood next to her, also mesmerized.
Then, Trihn felt Cassidy’s eyes on her. She smiled broad and then rushed from the stage, heading straight to Trihn.
Cassidy latched on to Trihn’s wrist. “Come on.”
“Cassidy, what are you doing?” Trihn demanded in a panic.
“Your turn, little ballerina.”
“What? No!”
“Ladies and gentlemen”—Cassidy’s voice boomed through the room—“I would like to present our newest member of the Slipper company, Trihnity,” she cheered, pulling a dumbstruck Trihn onto the stage.
THE CROWD WENT WILD.
Trihn’s mouth dropped open. She was standing on the stage at Slipper in front of more than a hundred people and her boyfriend. Cassidy was speaking, but Trihn felt as if she were in a vacuum. She couldn’t hear a word of it. All she could do was stand there in shock and wonder what the hell was going on.
Cassidy and some of the other members of Slipper had worked with Trihn backstage and at clubs, teaching her the ropes. She knew enough about pole dancing to perform, but she had never in a million years thought she would actually do it. It was a skill set she’d closely guarded…and had never intended on showing Preston, let alone a roomful of strangers.
Then, Cassidy took a step back with her hand out.
Trihn met her wicked gaze and mouthed, I’m going to kill you.
Cassidy cackled. But there was nothing Trihn could do. She had to either perform or slink away and lose face in front of everyone. There wasn’t really a choice.
With a heavy sigh, she squared her shoulders and made up her mind. She reached down for her booties, unzipped them, and started taking her shoes off. Her feet sank into the soft spring floor just as the music started. She would have laughed if she wasn’t so nervous. She had danced to this song before when they were messing around. Cassidy must have planned this ever since Trihn had told her that she was coming tonight. That girl will pay for it later.
The crowd cheered as her shoes were discarded, and Trihn slowly stripped out of her shirt. It was probably completely see-through anyway, thanks to the harsh lighting on the stage, but she would need all the skin she could use to stick to the pole. Thank God she had chosen one of her best bras for the evening.