Here Goes

Mark sat alone in his room, contemplating the events that had just occured.
"I didn't even get to see her face," Mark said, now wondering who his lady left him for.
He decided a trip to the Catscratch club would brighten his mood, so he got up, his jacket already on since it was freezing even inside. He had a quick debate, wondering if he should take his crummy camera, and eventually decided against it.
He shot with a script, and doubted a dancer would want to say a few lines to help the poor son of a bitch out.
He walked the short distance to the club, reminding his self again that he needed a car, desperately.
As soon as he got in the club, his heart filled with joy. There she was again. The dancer he'd seen the previous night.
She was beautiful as ever, yet her expression seemed sad. Like she didn't want to be there, but... Had to.
The same expression covered the face of another brunette with messy brown hair. She then spotted Mark, and whispered something to the first girl, giggling.
They both split up and got back to work, exploiting their wonderful fisiques for money.
Mark sat in his usual table, alone. A few minutes passed, and as he sipped a drink, the unexpected happened.
The brunette girl he couldn't get his mind off of slid down the pole to his table, smiling.
"Hiya, cutie," the girl said sweetly.
"Uh... Uhm...," he choked. "H-hi."
"What's your name, hun?" she asked seductively.
"Uhm- I, uh...," he stammered. "M-mark, I'm Mark."
She giggled, and his face turned beet red.
"Well, I gotta get back to work, Mark," she said, turning her head towards the stage. She grabbed a napkin from the table and pulled a pen out of her bra, scribbling something onto the napkin. "Go ahead n' gimme a call sometime, cutie." She winked, and climbed back on stage leaving Mark speechless.
Why would she give Mark her number? Did she do that regularly? Was she a prostitute? Well, Mark would never find out.
Or so he thought.