Clothes Off!

Evie danced around a pole like it was an extension of herself.

She was water flowing around a solid object and eyes were fixed.

She had spotted the group of boys that Crystal had mentioned almost immediately. They weren't hard to miss, considering they were sitting front and centre, but it was their members that made them the most noticeable.

Peter Wentz and Joe Trohman of Fall Out Boy; William Beckett of The Academy Is; Ryan Ross, Jon Walker and Brendon Urie of Panic! At The Disco and a few friends and other members of bands that Evie didn't care to recognise.

She didn't even care to recognise the people at the front for any other reason than she'd get a decent tip. Indefinitely.

She hated band boys.

Band boys were cocky, arrogant and thought the world revolved around them. She almost rolled her eyes when they beckoned her over, but that wouldn't get her the big bucks.

And Evie liked the big bucks.

"What's your name?" Peter asked, slipping a few notes through the thin piece of material that hung at her hips, holding up the shimmering, thin, skirt she wore. Evie liked to play tricks on the eyes when she danced.

"Porsche." Evie had the art of sultry to a t as she sashayed away. Peter nodded, adding the name to his memory bank, she supposed. Evie made a mental note to accidentally stand on his neck in her heels the next time she saw him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Man, did those boys ever love you," Crystal giggled as Evie slipped off the stage. She handed her friend a bottle of water and Evie gulped it down gratefully.

"Pete Wentz and friends. God."

"You don't sound pleased," Crystal laughed. "Most girls would kill to have Pete Wentz in their pocket."

"There are prettier things to look at," Evie shrugged, tossing her empty water bottle in the trash.

"Like the birthday boy?" Crystal teased, indicating with her head to one of the boys sat around the stage. Front and centre. Evie's brow rose.

"Who?"

"I don't know. Some band boy. His eyes were glued to you all through the dance."

"Isn't that the point, Crys?"

"You're slow tonight, Porsche. I mean, he'd take you home and make you his wife if he could."

"I don't do band boys."

"Rich band boys, Porsche!"

"Fine, fine. I don't do rich band boys," Evie rolled her eyes. "You on lap dances with me?"

"Yup," Crystal winked. "We've been booked by the birthday bash to dance in one of the private rooms."

"Urgh, lesbian shit again? I wish people would get creative," Evie laughed, topping up her lip gloss. Crystal fluffed her hair.

"Get used to it, sister. It's a favourite in this game."

Evie rolled her eyes again. "Males are lame. Decidedly so."

"You bet. All ready?"

"Lets show these band boys what it's like to be a real performer," Evie smirked.