Page 131 of Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

CHAPTER 3

LEX

Muffled music pulsed from the front of the club—pumping up the crowd as audience members filed in for the show. I leaned forward at my station and stared at my exhausted reflection in a poorly lit mirror while dragging sweat-proof eyeliner along my water line.

Once I applied sparkly highlighter to my cheeks, I chugged from my water bottle, then took a swig of the lukewarm coffee I’d poured from the pot of the ancient coffee maker backstage at the club. It was going to be a long night. I’d already worked six hours at the sandwich shop and squeezed in a couple hours of rideshare driving since I’d gotten to Portland early for my shift at the club.

Some days, juggling so many gigs was grueling, but since my job as a non-tenured adjunct professor got cut at the university and nothing else in my field had panned out, it was my best option. At least until I figured out what to do next. A career change wasn’t an easy decision after investing so much time and money in my PhD.

“Hey, Lexipoo. Still want to crash at my place tonight?”

I turned toward Bug. He dropped his gray sweats and straightened the waistband of his sparkly red briefs. He was popular among the twink-loving crowd. His pale-blond hair sat on his head in a pile of styled curls with tidy sides. He’d quickly become my best friend at the club when I got the job six months ago and was now one of my favorite people. He wore his heart on his sleeve and cared about everyone. Sometimes to his own detriment.

“That would be amazing. Thanks. I’m not sure I should make the hour drive back to Dahlia Springs tonight. It’s been a hell of a long day.”

He leaned against the edge of the table we shared and stared at me with concern. “How many hours have you worked today?”

“A few.”

Bug sighed. “Lex, you’re working too much.”

I shrugged. “Too many bills.”

The music changed to a song that cued the show was about to begin. “We’re up in a few.”

“Saved by the dancing.” Bug bent and kissed my cheek. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be okay. You putting me up tonight helps a ton. I’ll stay out of your and Xander’s hair.”

Bug’s face crumpled. “Xander dumped me yesterday. Again.”

“Oh, babe.” I stood and opened my arms, but he stepped out of reach.

“If I let you hug me, I’ll cry, and I’m not going on stage with tears in my eyes because the lights will catch them. Rain check on the hug.”

“You got it.” Xander was a dickhead and didn’t deserve Bug. Neither had any of the last dozen guys he’d dated.

We were two sides of the same coin. Bug was a hopeless romantic who gave everyone a chance. I wanted a partner, except for one eensy-teensy issue. It required actually putting myself out there. Plenty of guys made offers after shows, but going home with someone from the club who only wanted to bag one of the dancers would hardly lead to a love match. Was it too much to ask to be appreciated for me instead of my body or the dick imprint in my costumes?

“First number in two,” the stage manager called out to the dancers from the stage door.

The muffled echo of our fabulous drag queen emcee on the microphone rang through our backstage area. I pulled on the sequined vest and cowboy hat, took another swig of water, and lined up behind Bug, fixing the tangled fringe on his vest.

As the song for our first number began blaring through the speaker, I shoved all my personal problems into a locked box for the next two hours. I had tips to make, and Broke Millennial wasn’t a dancer archetype that would earn a lot of money. Even in Portland.

It’s showtime.