I'm addicted to the misery in my head...

You stand there on the stage staring at the man who catches your eye every week.  You know this man. His name is Brian Elwin Haner Junior.  He plays guitar in a band but comes down to this club every week just for you, he takes you back to your dressing room, looks after you, his rough fingers trailing over your body in a way that makes you love this man and make him yours.  You know it’s not possible you see on the internet that he has a girlfriend even suspected fiancé; you know he will never be yours.  You just wait till the next week and pray he comes for you.  You take the pole and slide around it in a provocative manner and feel disgusted when old men slip $100 bills in your bra and garter, it comes to his favourite bit 'the final climax' he tends to call it which always makes you smirk.  .Yyou take the pole and do the finale dance, which is always risky as loads of hands attempt to grab pieces of your negligee and rip it off, there will soon be a fight so you hurry up and saunter off the side of the stage and slip on your dressing gown and wait for the next act to go on stage so you can feel free.  It doesn’t take long for him to find you; you are in your usual place the quietest corner in the club which is always the darkest.  He takes you by the hand and by now you are crying wondering why his doing this for you, he leads you to the bed and sits you down and hands you a packet of tissue which you gratefully take while he goes to close the door, you expect him to leave but he always comes back.  He gathers you in his arms and rocks to back and forwards as you wipe all your makeup off and calm yourself down by his soothing noises and promises of safety.  He slides he calloused fingers along your thigh and you begin to shake as he lies you down on the bed and whispers your name in your ear.  The next morning he’s gone as usual he never stays, the company doesn’t allow it.  You think it’s all a dream until you see the note pinned to your notice board which gives you hope.

i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.

I will come for you one day.

Wait for me.

B x

You take the note down and fold it up and put it into your fresh pair of jeans and make your way out of the club and wait until he comes back next week.  He is your only hope and if it wasn’t for him you would have left along time ago.