I lie in bed beside Michael’s naked body, unable to sleep. I’ve promised myself to never regret something I’ve ever chosen to do – it cannot be changed after all – but I do in a way regret sleeping with him.

It started out great. Really, I loved the part where I just lost my thoughts and the pain was gone. Though, somewhere during the kisses and fucking everything came crashing back on me, and I found myself just laying there, Michael continuing without noticing that I didn’t respond to his touch.

I regret not telling him to stop then. It felt weird to say so right then, I was a bit scared of how he might respond. Now afterwards I realise he would have done the right thing and respected my feelings, he is way too kind hearted not to.

No, no reason to regret it. I just hope he doesn’t realise I didn’t want it in the end, that I didn’t enjoy it. He isn’t the villain, and I don’t want him to feel like he did something wrong.

I sit up slowly, making sure not to disturb him in his sleep. Carefully I stand up and dress in the clothes we dropped on the floor earlier while making a mess of ourselves. With a glance over my shoulder towards Michaels beautiful, sleeping face, I step out of the apartment.

Well out in the corridor reality hits me like a stone. My mother is dead. Dad will have to sell the farm if he cannot find a farm hand to hire. I trashed my studio.

I cut close to all my paintings to pieces.

I feel the tears burn in my throat before my eyes fill with them. But I press them down – deep down inside of me. I need to keep my head clear. I need to get out of here.

Not having enough courage to face my studio, and not daring to walk back into Michael’s, I instead head out.

It is raining, quite badly. My bare feet become numb against the cool ground, for my shoes are still at home. Luckily I’m alone in the streets at this hour and in this weather. I hear sirens in the distance and I let my mind wander with the drumming of the rain.

For some reason I don’t feel as empty as I thought I would. It rather feels unreal, as if my dad is going to call again and say it was all a dream. But that won’t happen. No, my mother truly is dead. I expect my body to reject the thought, to cry or scream again, but nothing happens. There is only a weight settling over me like a blanket. But it does not suffocate me or blind me. It is almost a comfort.

My feet stop walking as I catch a bright sign in the corner of my eye. I look up at it and relief washes through me. The words Burlesque’s Heaven glares down at me with bright pinks and blues – Alex’s workplace.

I remember the first time I visited the club, how my cheeks had heated a bit at the thought of walking in and of someone seeing me. Since then Alex had dragged me along to all sorts of weird and naked places, some that still haunt my memory. This time I don’t hesitate when pushing the door open and stepping inside.

I am greeted by a wall of heat and noise – mostly loud music and voices trying to talk louder. The place is absolutely packed with people and the club that is usually a hangout for the city’s LGBTQ+ community, is now filled with a lot more than the most familiar faces. I squish forward to the bar, politely saying “sorry” and “excuse me” every time I accidentally bump into someone. Well at the bar I lean as far over it as I can to catch the bartender’s attention – who tonight fortunately is a person I know.

“Bry! Bry, hey!” The woman looks up from the drinks in her hands and smiles widely as she sees me.

“Hi,” Bry exclaims as she after handing over the drinks comes over to me still hanging over the bar. “Long time no see– hey, woah, you are soaking!” Her ususal mum-voice kicks in as she motions for me to come behind the disk. “Honey, you don’t have a jacket? You’ll get a cold!”

I wave her off, even though I appreciate her concern. “Is Alex here? Or, I– can I sit in the back for a while? I can’t– hmm.” I struggle with the words as I feel the tears rising in my throat again. Please, oh, not here, I think as I silently curse.

Bry is already dragging me towards a door reading “personnel only” with big, white letters as she says, “Of course, sweetie, Alex is on his break in the back, most likely chatting with the performers – if I know him right.” She slams open the door and hauls me inside before the crowd can close in too tightly around us. “Down the hall and to the left!” she calls after me as she closes the door again.

The muffled sounds from the other room makes the scenario even sadder as the tears finally starts to fall down my cheeks. With clogged breaths and blurred vision I start down the hallway, turning left in the direction of the room labeled “Green Room”. I try my best to collect my thoughts and calm my breathing before I knock on the door and pray that it will be Alex opening. At first there i nothing, but then I hear the laughter my best friend from the other side and moments later the door opens and I am face to face with a person wearing a bright pink wig and a fur robe over a very naked body. Knowing that I probably look like a lost child with a bead head and tears in my eyes, I understand the look of shock on the person’s face.

“Yes?” they ask with a deep and smooth voice that I must admit is very soothing.

“I–” my voice comes up in a rasp and I swallow the pain behind my eyes as I take a deep breath. “Um, is–is Alex here?” The person is just about to answer when a voice comes from inside the room.

“Dan?” I almost sag with relief as I see Alex’s head pop out over the person’s shoulder. “Danny! What are you–holy shit have you been crying?” He stumbles up from the couch he had been slouching on and half runs over to the door. The pink haired person is smart enough to take a step to the side. “Shit, Danny, what happened?” With gentle hands he grabs my face and strokes away my tears with heartbreaking care. “Jesus, come in, sit.”

I collapse on the couch with a sigh and lean back until my head is resting on the cushioned back and my eyes are at the ceiling. The pink haired person, who Alex has introduced as Patty, hands me a towel. I smile apologetically at them as I realise I’m probably ruining the club’s couch. Alex falls down beside me with another towel and helps me dry up the rain soaking me, although we both realize I need to change clothes. Patty comes back to the couch with a bundle of clothes in their arms – stage clothes I realize with no little horror as they hand them to me.

The performer catches my feelings as they play on my face. “Sorry, it’s the only ones I can spare, big show tonight.” They gracefully sit down on a stool placed in front of the closest makeup station. “Besides, those are the most covering ones any of us own.” I nod a short thank you.

I stand up and remove my soaked clothes, stuffing them into a plastic bag another performer has come over with. Even though there are at least another ten people in the Green Room – all there to prepare for tonight’s show – I couldn’t care less of the fact that I was now standing in nothing than my panties before them. I grab the dress Patty had given me and my cheeks heat a bit at the sight of it. The attire consists of a slippery fabric bombarded with glitter and fake diamonds that sparkle as I shift it in my hands. The back of it is completely open, save for two gold chains making a crisscross pattern keeping the front of the dress in place. I step into it with care, not wanting to break it as it is most likely expensive. Patty gets on their feet and strides over to help me fit the dress on properly.

Finally on, Alex lets out a low whistle. “I must say Dan, you could easily make good coin as a performer here.”

I stare down at my body. The front is almost as open as the back, the only coverage provided by two fairly narrow strips of the glittery fabric places over my breasts, leaving my middle bare down to just above my private parts – where my very basic panties poke forward in a way ruining the look. The skirt is longer than expected, reaching just above the knee, but the entirety of the dress is rather see through. I cannot help but to give my viewers a little spin.

“Woooo, give it up for the Painted Lady!” Alex howls from the couch. I give him a murdering glance and he laughs. “Come on, you look amazing.”

Patty nods in agreement, but there is trouble in their eyes. “It is good alright, but you need to take those underwear of yours off, or I won’t allow you to be seen in the dress.”

“Seen?” I ask. “I’m not going to perform!”

They grunts. “Well, obviously. But we can see you, smart ass.” Once again they disappear off to the other side of the room and comes back with a small bag. Setting it down on the couch table they dig around and pull out a pair of lacy string panties in a bright orange colour. I raise an eyebrow at the scrap of fabric, but do not protest as they also pulls out a matching choker.

Finally approved by Patty and the other performers I sit down in the couch again and my heart sinks in my chest. Redressing had been a welcomed distraction, but now all eyes are on me in a completely different matter and I just want to sink through the floor. I decide it is best if I am the one to break the silence.

“My mother died yesterday.”

The entire room goes still as death. I don’t dare move until I hear a small sound from beside me and I look over to find Alex crying softly into his hands. Panic stirs in my chest and I grab my friend by the shoulders and hug him tightly to me. I try to sooth him the best I can, and realize that in my head this moment had been the opposite, with me crying in his arms. Patty moves over from their stool to sit on the other side of Alex, gently tracing circles on his back.

After what feels like a lifetime, Alex untangels from my arms and sits up, taking deep breaths over and over. Even though my arms ache a bit from holding him I get the urge to pull him close again.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. He takes a shaking breath. “I don’t– fuck.” He fanatically dries his tears on the towel Patty handed to him. “It’s just I– I never got to meet her.”

My heart breaks at the statement and I realize with a bit of shock that it is true. My mind wanders to all the other things – all the other people never got to introduce to my mum, and soon I am crying right with Alex, and a confused Patty trying to calm us both.

“Hey, I know that this is hard, and I know what it feels like,” Patty says. “But Dan’s mother would not want you both in such despair, believe me.” They open and close their mouth a couple of times before finding the right words. “Hey, you both, why don’t you clean up a bit and go out to watch the show? I have a booth reserved for my boyfriend, but I am sure he won’t mind the company.” They wave over two other performers, both of them younger than Patty themself. “You – go tell Bry in the bar that there has been a situation and someone has to cover for Alex in the bar. You – fetch some tissues and some powder. And the bar of chocolate from my bag!”

The two disappear, and after a moment the second comes back with the supplies asked for. Patty tells us to eat as they hands us some chocolate and then starts do dry of Alex’s face with a tissue. The other performer – Tina she introduces herself as – does the same to me, before lightly dabbing some powder on.

“Do you want me to do your makeup as well?” She asks with a gentle voice. “Nothing extravagant, just some mascara and–”

“Sure, yes.” I stand up and walk over to the stool Patty was sitting on earlier. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. Thank you.” I slump down in front of the mirror.

Tina waves a hand in the air. “No worries. You have all the right in the world to be rude at the moment.”

Fifteen minutes later me and Alex are places in a balcony-booth right in front of the stage – the best view in the room, a fact known to the few who have seen a show from it. Patty quickly introduced us to Martin, their boyfriend, before they ran off in a puff of pink to get ready for the stage.

Impossible as it seems, the club is now even more crowded than before. I am just about to ask Alex about it when the music suddenly stops and the room is filled with a booming male voice.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, and Fellows! Welcome to the Pink Night at Burlesque Heaven, hosted by no less than the beautiful, the astonishing, the incredible: Lalia Star!”

The room is filled by the roar of the crowd and the tunes of a loud 20’s style jazz song as a woman in her mid forties strides onto the stage wearing a pink suit and matching top hat. She beams at the crowd and all of us in the booth lean forward to gawk at her beauty.

With a sweep of her hand the crowd goes quiet at the exact same moment as the music stops, and the room is filled with the void of silence. Then she speaks.

“Hello, my darlings.”