"I'm your go-go dancer, midnight answer. Jukebox sweetheart, queen of the night."

It was a Friday night in the club you worked at.. staring into the mirror one final time, you mentally prepare yourself for the night to come. Tonight was the night you'll tell Lana who you really are. Neither of you knew about your shared past until one night, she signed her name so eloquently in the guest book, in her pen's signature blood red ink.. "Elizabeth W. Grant". From that day forward, the guilt built inside you with every rendezvous you had.. you had to come clean.. not be the masked dancer she knew and loved.

You head out onto the stage to begin dancing, adjusting your mask one final time as you head on. As expected, Lana's in her usual spot.. sipping on a bourbon on the rocks. She crosses her legs as you arrive onto the stage, her eyes boring into you.. never.. looking.. away..