Patrick has never been shy about his... personal life. Girl after girl, guy after guy, girls and guys at the same time. He likes pleasure, can you blame him?

You definitely can't.

Because Patrick comes to see you dance every night, clothes strewn across the mirrored tiles of the stage, backing up against the pole as you blow him a kiss. Yeah. Seems like you're not so shy either.

But Patrick knows you. He knows the you with the messy hair and the bare face, and the you with the novelty footy pyjamas, and the you with the crush on different muppets characters, because you ‘just know they would treat you right.’

And he knows how scary it is for him to be able to admit that he loves you. Mr Patrick Zweig, son of The Zweig's, a family that owns a whole estate, a big grand house, and a life filled with charity galas and business meetings, is in love with a stripper.

God, his parents would be so disappointed, but when has he ever pleased them. He's laid there now, in the bed of your little shitty apartment, tickling his fingers up and down your cheeks while you sleep, crawling in little steps. His nails pick at the glitter still lingering around your eyes, trying to wipe off the smudges of eyeliner from the creases of your eye bags as softly and carefully as he can.

And then your lashes are tickling his thumb as your eyes flutter open, and his lips are kissing the sloppiest, wettest kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to give the harshest nip to your ass cheek.

"Mornin' sexy..."

The curtains are wide open, sun streaming across your naked bodies, and your glittery clothes are strewn all over the chipped laminate. It's warm. It's cozy. It's everything you're not when you're on that stage.

It's you.