✵

Well, this was not how I pictured spending my first night in my new apartment with my newfound independence.

I still have a lot of unpacking to do around the place, but for some fucking reason Eren thought it was a good idea to host a small welcome party for me at a club with the guys. I had no say in this. It was three votes against one. Armin didn't bother to chip in and back me up because he chose to be a witness and not get involved-that fucking coward.

The city lights blaze as I grip the steering wheel, feeling a mixture of annoyance and reluctant acceptance of defeat. Eren, Jean and Connie are all crammed in the back, their excitement practically radiating as they're chatting amongst themselves. Armin is seated in the passage seat texting whoever he's texting-I'm assuming is his girlfriend.

"What's with the tight grip, my guy? Are we going to crush or something," Jean's voice cuts through the chatter.

I spare him a withering glance before returning my attention to the road. "I'd rather not have blood on my hands if you don't mind."

Eren chuckles from the backseat and leans forward. "Loosen up, will you? It's a night out to properly welcome you to our den."

I click my tongue. "Easy for you to say," I mutter under my breath, my fingers tapping a restless rhythm against the wheel. "You brats practically dragged and coerced me into this damn outing. Why the fuck should I loosen up?"

"Not with that negative attitude. Come on, man. Tonight, is going to be a blast. I promise you," He enthuses.

With a resigned sigh, I eased the grip on the steering wheel. "This better be worth it or I swear to God."

"Trust me, amigo. Once we're in, no te arrepentirás," Connie chimes in, his Puerto Rican accent adding an interesting twist to his words.

As I continue driving to our destination, I can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. The route feels oddly familiar-almost as if I've used this route before. It's only when we finally arrive at our destination do I realise where we are.

Oh, hell naw!

I feel my eyes widen with panic and my heart drops to the deepest pit of my stomach as the banner for The Underground comes into view. Of all the places they had to choose to throw me a welcome party, it just had to be my place of work. I mean, I don't blame them. The Underground is one of the most reputable clubs in the city with the best drinks money can buy at a reasonable price and the best entertainment services. A lot of people-college and university kids and adults frequent there. But they had no idea that I was a pole dancer there, and I intend to keep it that way.

Suddenly Farlan's lecture from earlier about the dangers of living a double life starts ringing in my ears and if he was here with me, he would have given me a look telling me that he told me so.

As we all climb out of the comfort of my car, my dread only deepens. The guys are waiting in line with anticipation for the night festivities while I'm wondering how the hell, I got myself into this situation. I better pray and hope to God that no one at work blows my cover and exposes my secret or I will be royally screwed.

✵

Eren wastes no time and set up a bar tab for us. The drinks flow and soon three out of five of us are getting tipsy, buzzed, or downright drunk (Eren, Jean, and Connie respectively). Eren gives a sappy speech about welcoming me to the gang and dubs me their older brother-a statement that both irks me and warms my heart a little-and makes a toast. The next thing I know, we're all on the dance floor dancing to "Bend Ova" by Lil Jon and Tyga. My movements are careful and measured to not draw too much attention to myself, nothing like my usual fluid and sensual grace on stage during my set. My eyes and senses are on high alert for any potential familiar faces.

I eventually excuse myself to the bar and let the guy continue having their fun on the dance floor. I need a drink to unwind and ease my nerves so I can just get through this damn welcome party. "Clean vodka, please," I request, taking a seat at the bar.

"You look like hell," I hear a familiar voice.

I look up and meet the gaze of one of the very few people I was hoping to avoid tonight-Mike. Just put me out of my misery, please.

"Hey, Mike," I greet him with a depreciating sigh. "Fancy seeing you here."

"I could say the same about you especially since you asked very nicely for a night off to deal with moving into a new place and all." he teased, his lips quirking into a knowing smile.

My lips twitch, torn between annoyance and amusement at the irony of the situation like it's some cruel joke. "My lovely new neighbour thought they could throw me a welcome party and took me to my place of work against my will," I answer sardonically.

Mike cringes and sucks his teeth as he pours the vodka into the glass. "Yikes! That's quite the sticky situation you're in."

"You're telling me," I mutter, accepting the glass and downing the clear liquid in a single gulp.

"Do they know?" he pours me another glass.

I shake my head. "It's not something I particularly enjoy sharing with anyone. I've only known them for like four years."

"That's a pretty long time."

"Yeah, but I don't really consider them my friends. They're just a bunch of kids in their twenties that happen to go to the same uni I go to and take the same classes as me," I shrug. "Plus, I'm way older than all of 'em so we really don't have anything in common beyond being uni students."

"So, you don't consider the guys who threw you a welcome party your friends?" He arches an eyebrow.

"Okay, now you're making it seem like I'm an asshole," I frown.

"Your words. Not mine." He raises his hands. I roll my eyes. "Listen, I know you're not big on having a big circle of friends and don't have many friends outside of the two you already have, to begin with, but from what I can gather, these kids seem pretty genuine."

"Yeah, but I don't really feel comfortable sharing my secret let alone talking about myself," I answer. "My other two friends don't even know about my night job, and I've known them longer than those four. I mean I tolerate them but that doesn't mean I owe it to them to share this other side of me."

"Or maybe you're afraid they'll see you in a different light if you do tell them," He shrugs.

His words stir an uneasy feeling in my gut, like a slap to the face. I'm not sure if I feel offended by his words or if I hate that they hold some truth. Whichever it is, I despise feeling cornered.

"I won't tell you what to do and how you conduct your life outside of work. Just do what you think is best for you," he decides to say. "And hey, if it helps, I'll send the word out to keep your secret."

I feel the tension in my shoulders ease and let out a grateful sigh. "Thanks, Mike. That will be great."

"Anything for my biggest money maker," he smiles.

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