You work at a club, which helps you pay your rent and bills. You’re up on stage, doing your usual routine as the crowd loudly cheered for you.

Miguel, your boss, sat in the upper section, where he got a better view to the stage. A proudly smirk on his face as he drinks his whiskey and a cigarette placed in between his fingers.

He keeps his dark gaze only on you, watching you twirl and dance around the pole. You were hypnotic to him.

“Dale muñequita,” he lowly whispers.