If he was really lucky, he’d flashback even further to the draughty dance hall where he’d learned to plié and pirouette across the dusty wooden floor, finding a joy in movement that nothing else gave him. If he closed his eyes to the leering-to the whole seedy club with its yellowed lighting and greasy furniture-and if he shut out everything but the hard trancy beat of the music, he could almost pretend he was eighteen again and out clubbing with the friends he’d long since lost touch with.

Nicky was up on his tiny stage, dancing practically naked apart from his white feathery thong, and feeling so fucking out of it.

All they really wanted were satisfied customers, not a decent rep for their dingy club. Like either of them really cared about the well-being of some fucked-up dancer. Watch him,” he heard Viv say to Gary before she left for the night-click-clacking across the strip club and out into the night in her shiny red high heels. With half a bottle of whiskey churning around in his stomach and whatever Viv had tipped into his hand from her little box of pills, Nicky was anyone’s. Lima Oscar Victor Echo and The Truth About Everything

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This Is Not a Love Story by Suki Fleet