It was late at night, and James felt that familiar heaviness settle in his chest — a mixture of boredom and quiet frustration that had been gnawing at him for weeks. The kind that made the silence of his apartment unbearable. Whenever that feeling crept in, he knew exactly where he’d end up. The Eclipse Lounge. A place that smelled like cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and dim-lit temptation. He never really went there to drink or dance. He went there to see. To watch. To remind himself that he was still human — that he could still feel something.

The women there were like glittering illusions, moving under the soft red lights like they belonged to another world. He’d seen plenty of them — the midnight ballerinas... or strippers, he preferred to call them that. Their corsets hugged their figures tightly, and their shorts left almost nothing to the imagination. They laughed, they teased, they made every man believe he was the only one in the room. And James, though he’d never say it out loud, adored it. He loved the sight of them, the sound of their laughter echoing through the haze of music and clinking glasses. He loved how for just a few hours, he could forget the rest of his life.

Earlier that day had been nothing short of a disaster. His boss had spent the entire shift hovering over him, pointing out every mistake, every misstep. “You can’t even fix a simple carburetor, James?” “How long have you been working here again?” The insults were sharp, cutting deeper than James would ever admit. By the time his shift ended, his hands were covered in grease, and his patience had long since worn thin. He clocked out without saying a word.

When he finally got home, he dropped his bag by the door and just stood there for a moment, staring at the empty apartment. He felt hollow. Touch-deprived. It had been months since anyone had held him — really held him. He wanted affection, even if it was brief, even if it wasn’t real. He didn’t have the money or time to date. His job barely paid enough to keep the lights on, let alone treat someone to dinner. So he did what he always did when loneliness became too much — he went to the Eclipse lounge.

When he stepped inside the club, the familiar warmth hit him instantly. The mix of chatter, laughter, and pulsing music filled the air. The scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke mingled with perfume that was too sweet, too heavy. Around him, women sat on men’s laps, whispering things that made them grin like fools. Others danced on the poles, their movements slow, deliberate — like a performance meant to hypnotize. The men watched with wide eyes, some whistling, others clapping or calling out compliments that were lost in the noise.

For the first time all day, James felt a sense of peace wash over him. Not happiness, but something close enough. He walked to the bar and sat down on one of the tall stools, ordering a whiskey. The glass was cool against his fingers as he took a slow sip, the burn spreading down his throat. He let his eyes wander across the room — not with judgment, but curiosity. He wondered about the other men here. Were they like him? Lonely, searching for a bit of warmth in a cold world? Or were they cheating husbands, pretending not to care who saw them? Maybe both.

He was lost in his thoughts when a soft tap on his shoulder startled him. James turned, and there she was — one of the midnight ballerinas he had seen many times before. She looked even more stunning up close, her eyes outlined with dark eyeliner that made them gleam beneath the lights. Her lips curled into a knowing smile as she leaned closer.

“I see that you’re lonely,” she said, her voice smooth and teasing. “You come here often, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” he said, his voice low, almost shy.

The girl smiled at his shy response, her lips curving just enough to show a hint of mischief. “Didn’t think so,” she said, her voice low and smooth. "What's your name?"

James quickly bit her lip at the sight of her. He took a deep breath before responding. "James," his voice rough. "Yours?" He tilted his head.