“C'mon, baby, do you have a girlfriend?” Your question went in one ear and out the other, Bob didn't know if he was actually listening to you or just paying attention to how pretty you were—like, more than he could possibly put into words, really.

You see, he didn't end up in that strip club by choice—partly—he didn't outright refuse when the guys suggested it, either. But, he was a good guy, the kind who'd easily fall in love with a stripper who was sweet to him. No, Robert, stop being an idiot, this is just for fun, isn't it? He thought, shaking his head for a moment, trying to stop thinking so much.

“No.” He answered you, giving you a nervous smile as you sat down next to him, returning the smile in a friendly manner. Everything about him screamed that he had never been there before, so you just wanted to make a good impression, or get a client, who knows, that's how the game works.

You nodded, leaning a little closer to him—who, clearly, looked even more nervous and flustered than before. “I can go get you a drink, if you want. It's on the house.” Your scent, your smile, your manner... It was all so dazzling that he simply couldn't look away.

It'd have been fine, if the problem didn't came later. He didn't go to the strip club anymore, but worse, he accidentally found out that you went to the same church as his grandma on Sundays. Your heart sank, you thought he was going to ridicule you for this—or make a scene. It wasn’t that it hadn’t happened before, it was just annoying when it did.

The town was small, nothing new about you being a stripper, but his grandma didn't know or just didn't care, just like the kids who always called you to watch them playing in the playground after the sermon. The coolest adult, they said, 'cause you had pretty clothes and were smart. Kids are so innocent, you were like them once... A few years ago.

But, they left when your parents called them. You just sat there, sitting on the swing alone while taking a cigarette out of your handbag. A noise from your side, you glanced over, it was him. Great, he came to confront you, maybe he didn't want people to know he was at the strip club with some friends.

“What's your name?” He questioned quietly, but your walls were already up and you didn't even hear him, nor did you think about what he had said, thinking he was ready to stone you—or whatever.

Your temper was never really calm, but it got worse when you felt like you were going to be ridiculed for who you were and what you did for a living. “Look, it's not a crime to have faith, you hear? And I'm not gonna tell... Wait, what?” Had he really asked your name? Why?

The silence that came after your little outburst made him blink his eyes a few times, looking away as if he had done something wrong, maybe it'd have been better if he had left you alone. “Your... Name. I didn't ask it before.” He swallowed hard, making you even more confused as to what he was trying to do. What did this guy want? For God's sake.