| ☠ | Devin's POV | ☠ |

To think I'd actually return here, it's sickening. However, the bills on the counter back home were pushing my feet each step. I was in a shitty part of town. Homeless filled the streets, lined with hole in the wall bars and shady shops. In the midst of the concrete jungle was the adult's candy shop. The neon sign reflected across my eyes as I approached the building. In a vibrating purple, with skull's replacing the o's in the word, the sign read Voodoo. It has been a while now, hasn't it, old friend?

The bouncer let me straight in. Aside from knowing me previously, I'm sure he was aware I'd be meeting with my old boss tonight. This place hadn't changed a bit. There was a main stage, which wasn't in use at the moment. More stripper poles could be found on the bar top, and of course the place was littered in go-go cages. I shivered just looking at them. There was another level of private rooms, which made up the left and right walls. Being back here, dug up some memories I wasn't fond of.

I enjoy being a slut, to put it bluntly. Dancing and stripping didn't bother me in the least bit. I just wasn't appriciative of the way some audience members can treat you. And fucking a hot guy, no problem, but the ones that have enough money for a private show, usually are old ass stuffy business men. The looks you get when people find out you're a stripper aren't fun either. Other than that, I actually enjoyed this job, hence the reason I'm returned. There is a certain thrill to being an exotic dancer.

Most the faces were familiar. I saw Ryan still working the bar, having to deal with ass in his face while he served drinks. He was straight, so working at a gay strip club was a challenge for him. I recognized some of the dancers too, and saw a few new as well. It's about that time of year that contracts are running out and a new batch of innoncent unexpecting boys get sucked in to replace whomever leaves. The fact that people are leaving right now works to my advantage. The owner will need me more than I need him.

I made my way back to the employees only area of the joint. There were rooms leading to dressing rooms, and others leading to offices. I knocked heavily on the owner's door, hoping the music wasn't drowning me out. Seems I was lucky, because the door opened fairly quickly. Though it's been a few years, Chris somehow managed to not age at all. I swear, he was a fucking vampire or something. He had the complection of one.

"Devin, it's good to see you. You look good." He said, then gestured torwards the desk. "Come, take a seat."

"Thanks. You don't look bad yourself." I replied.

His office hasn't changed much. There were a few more knicknaks but that was expected. He had this weird thing with collecting kind of... trophies, to represent all the dancers here. However, he only put a new one on his shelf when someone's contract ran out.

Chris sat on his side of the desk. He crossed his legs and leaned back as he studied me. "I honestly was surprised you called."

I snit. "Why's that?"

"I've never had someone re-up their contract, other than one person. I guess people don't like me that much." Chris joked.

I chuckled, "You are a control freak. Not everyone can take abuse like I can."

"No, they can't. That's why I was actually happy when you called." Chris spoke, leaning foward on the desk. "You are one of my best."

"One of?" I asked, amused. "I thought I was the best."

"We've got some new talent since you left. I'm not saying he's better than you, but he could give you a run for your money." He replied.

"When I first came here, you told me without a doubt, no one would ever up Ange, and I proved you wrong then." I smirked. "Who says I can't make you a liar twice?"

"This kid's... different. He's been here for a few months, came off human trafficing. You know normally I don't like to buy my dancers, for the legal problems, but when Josh brought him here, I knew I had to have him. I signed him into the longest contract I could."

"Well, if he's so fabulous, I'll have to meet him. Maybe test out his talent." I said, almost daring the idea of anyone being better than I am.

"He's working tonight. If we can make a good deal, maybe I'll have him treat you." Chris smiled, then dropped it. "And you just mentioned Angelo. His contract runs out next week. I don't think he's going to re-up this time. You're the only person that could properly replace him."

"It's going to be weird, not having him around." I sighed.

"He'll still be around, just not dancing."

I looked at him strangly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's get to the contract." He responded. Waita change the subject, Chris. "How many years are we talking?"

I shrugged. "How many years do you want me?"

"I'd love to have you ten, but that's not releastic." He joked. "Five year?"

"Three." I sharply stated.

Chris ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth as he stared down at the papers on his desk. He let out a sigh as his eyes met mine. "Three, but you work six days a week instead of your previous four."

"I want to move in upstairs, then."

"Deal." Chris stood up, and I did the same. We shook on the promise. Then he said, "How 'bout I have someone bring you to meet the newbie while I get a contract ready for you?"

I grinned ear to ear. "That would be fabulous."