"Aw, c'mon, Billy. Don't be a puss; Would it kill you t'have a little fun?" Jesse taunted, patting Billy on the shoulder harshly.

Billy rolled his eyes with a sigh; it was stupid, really. Jesse had heard of a local Burlesque joint in Lincoln County just a few days ago, and since then, he'd been raving about it. And today was the day he was finally going to get his way. And of course, he was going to try and rope his best friend in.

Billy had never been a fan of such things; the appeal just wasn't there. He preferred not supporting places that objectified women. But, to save himself the headache of Jesse's begging and shit talking, he gave in.

Which is why he found himself in a seductive, jazzy saloon, perched against the bar with a whiskey sitting idly in his hands. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the crowd went hush as the stage curtain raised. A spotlight lit the stage, and that's when you appeared.

Dressed in a baby pink, satin corset with garters that stretched down to hold your thin stockings up, you caressed the microphone with a sickeningly sweet grin. Matching pink velvet gloves climbed up your arms, and a string of pearls dangled from your neck. Perfection, wrapped in pretty pink.

Red lipstick painted lips parted to sing seductively into the microphone, and Billy was entranced; like you were some deep sea siren. He felt as if he should feel something of lust now, but he could only admire you, as if you were some statue, carefully and lovingly carved from marble. You could've been a goddess, in his eyes.

Innocent eyes scanned the crowd as you caressed your own curves, singing gracefully until your eyes landed on Billy. For a moment, your breath caught at the man, before you sweetly smiled at him. Lashes batted adoringly against the blushed skin of your cheeks, and he could've dropped to his knees then and there.

But, for now, he'd settle for a faint nod towards you, and a raise of his glass. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he thought.