He stands behind the curtain. The spotlight is shining and he is ready. He looks down at his destroyed clothing in shame. His tattoos were visible, and he quickly wiped a tear off his cheek. He looked up and the curtain opened. Cheers were heard from everyone in the audience as he just stood in silence. The beat dropped as he walked out onto the stage and he danced swiftly. One by one, pieces of his clothing came off as girls and gay guys cheered. He was ashamed of his job and another tear slipped. No one noticed, as usual. Everyone was too busy cheering at him to take off his pants. So he did. In about 10 minutes, his show was over and he wouldn't be back out on stage until tomorrow night where he knew he would have a full house. He always does.
I walk out of the club in tears. My boyfriend is such a jerk. Well, my ex-boyfriend. I hold myself, hoping for warmth as it's chilly here in London right now. I look around, hoping to recognize these streets, but I don't. I look down and sob as tears run quickly down my face. I decide to go right, and head down a dark alley. I'm walking around the back of the club I just left, this isn't going to get me anywhere. As I'm walking, a door is opened, and I'm on the ground in seconds.
"Ow." I grab my head and look up to see someone in a hoodie. I can't see their face and when they crouch down, I see someone who is quite attractive. He has tanned skin, bright green eyes and curly brown hair. He puts his finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet.
"You want me to be quiet when you just hit me in the head with a door?" I ask, examining him. He looks familiar. He just nods slightly and looks at me, making sure I'm okay. He stands up and holds out his hand for me to grab. I grab it and he pulls me up. He mouths the words 'I'm sorry', and walks away. I watch him walk away with his hands in his pocket. How do I know him? Was he in the club when I was in there? I think he was.
I follow him and when I get out to the main streets, I watch him go down the street. He has his head down and his hood is still up. I go the opposite direction, in hope for finding something that looks somewhat familiar, but something catches my eye. A sign. On the door of the club I just left.
Performing Tonight @ 10:00 PM:
And under that, was a picture of the strange man who just hit me in the head with a door.