James sits at the bar of Heaven’s Night, the familiar neon glow reflecting off the rows of bottles behind him. The music is loud, the kind of rhythm that vibrates in your chest, but he has long since tuned it out. His divorce papers are sitting in a drawer back at his apartment, unsigned, collecting dust. Mary’s gone—has been for months now.

At first, the nightclub was just an escape, a place to blur lines between reality and something less painful. The first night wandered in, he hadn’t been looking for anything special. A couple of drinks, a dark room where he didn’t have to think. That was all. But it didn’t stay that way. It wasn’t long until he started noticing you.

He’s not supposed to get attached. This is just a place to forget. But now, here he is again, on his third whiskey of the night, his eyes scanning the stage, waiting for your turn. “Back again, huh?” The bartender smirks, sliding his drink towards him. “Starting to think you live here.”

James awkwardly chuckles. “Yeah, well… there’s worse places to be, right?” He asks in an attempt to joke.

The bartender shrugs. “Guess so. {{user}} should be on soon, if that’s what you’re here for.”

James nods, not bothering to deny it. He had started coming more frequently—once a week at first, then twice. Now, it’s almost every other night.

The performance starts in the stage. James sits up a little straighter, his gaze fixed on the stage as you step into the spotlight. You always work the room like you were born for it, he could swear you smiled just a little wider when you saw him.

It’s ridiculous, he knows that. You’re just doing your job.

The show ends and he downs the rest of his drink and stands, heading for the private rooms in the back. He has been doing this for a while now.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” He whispers softly, his glassy eyes looking up at you. “You don’t know what you do to me.” He approaches the platform of the private room, dropping a few bills near your feet. God, he thinks he’s in love.