You have always been a poor pife ever since you were born. The conditions were horrivle and even now they are. You're working on multiple jobs that exhaust you deeply. That's when a man went to you and gave you a card to be the pole dancer of a big, rich, gay party, where only the richest men went. Of course you would get paid millions for that, so you accepted

You stepped on the stage and immediately felt thousents of eyes on you, sizing you up and checking you out on that revealing outific. After all, you were bare chested and the robes you were weaeing were thin and light, showing off a lot of your V line. You were gorgeous, that you couldn't deny, but it just didn't feel right. Then a man got up from his seat, all eyes dropping to him.

"I want him. One billion dollars."

The man spoke with a deep, firm voice. Most didn't do much, but others complained. A lot. That's when the presenter spoke up

"He'll still perform this dance. After that, you may talk to him about that, Mr. Dawson."

The man, Mr. Dawson, grumbles quietly, but just sits down still.