Page 2 of The Stallion (Men Under Revue #2)
Dallas
Looks can be deceiving.
Handsome face, killer smile.
Bright white sneakers, dark wash distressed jeans, white T-shirt.
Freshly pressed black slacks, white button-up, black silk tie.
A man’s image can conceal his dark secrets effortlessly.
But just below the surface, beyond my good looks and charming personality, I’ve found myself forced to answer one of life’s toughest questions on more than one occasion:
How do you balance a life of normalcy when deep down, you’re completely fucking unhinged?
And after years of living like this without a fucking care in the world, the answer is quite simple.
You don’t .
You hide the unfavorable parts of your life in the light of day, never disclosing the darkness you mask from the world, because as a legacy, we’re bred differently.
We were raised to follow in our fathers’ footsteps, and I inherited more than just my father’s good looks, charisma, and fierce determination.
As a child, family and friends always praised me for being a naturally gifted dancer, so as an adult, I became a Male Revue performer—living up to the Ryan name—and I owned the fucking stage every single night.
My father was one of the best Temptations dancers to date, and I would do everything in my power to earn the same status and recognition he had once held—but within the Red Magic revue instead.
Sure, I could’ve chosen to work for Temptations just like him. But I wanted to make a name for myself, and I knew I wouldn’t get there if I were seen as nothing more than Cole Ryan’s son.
His shadow in every way. No fucking thank you.
I was Dallas fucking Ryan, and I knew exactly where I was going in life—straight to the fucking top.
You’d think that legacies in the world of dancers and performers were common, and—under most circumstances, they were—but not when it came to the Men Under Revue, or as we liked to call it, the MUR.
On the day of my eighteenth birthday, my father gave me a choice: go to college, get a degree, and live out the American Dream as I initially intended, or take what lies behind door number two—a secret I couldn’t be told until the moment I was old enough to make my decision.
The catch? There was no turning back once the handle was turned and that door opened—quite the risk for an entirely unknown reward.
When choosing between a life of predictability or a life filled with possibility, I jumped at the latter of the two so fucking fast. And I don't regret my decision, not for a single second.
It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid college and the comfortable life that option would’ve provided me with, but something told me that passing up an opportunity for more was well worth taking that leap of faith.
My father would never offer me a risk that wasn’t worth taking.
And who wouldn’t want the chance to hold the world in the palm of their hand?
“Dallas, Alec is asking for you. He’s in his office.”
A male voice called from behind me, and I peered over my shoulder to see Chase from across the theater, giving him a curt nod of acknowledgment.
I had just finished my last round of rehearsal and was finally ready to call it a night.
“Be there as soon as I’m done packing up.”
Earlier this week, Alec assigned me to the water performance of our show, which required me to learn an entirely new routine in just under two days.
This specific role had initially been his, but since he planned to retire within the next year, he constantly rotated the dancers’ routines and adjusted the show to accommodate his inevitable leave of absence.
Basically, ensuring that every dancer had a chance to showcase their full potential once he was gone.
Shoving the rest of my damp clothing into my gym bag, I slung the strap over my shoulder and exited the theater behind the grand staircase, taking the elevator to the third floor.
Once upstairs, I headed toward the backstage lounge, where everyone else was packing their things and heading home.
The show ended around midnight, but most of us stayed an extra two hours after that to polish our routines before leaving for the night instead of returning for rehearsals in the morning.
I stopped halfway down the hall leading to the lounge and locker rooms, noticing that Alec’s door was cracked open. Seeing as no one else was inside, I took that as my invitation to silently let myself in without so much as a knock to announce my arrival.
“Here he is now—I’ll call you later to finalize everything, Cole…” Alec hung up his phone just as I dropped myself into the chair across from him, setting my black gym bag on the floor beside my feet.
Alec placed his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair, his shirt becoming taut around his biceps with the new position.
Like every dancer in Red Magic, he was good-looking, and still built like a fucking tank thanks to our consistent workout schedule that he continued to participate in.
Aside from the grays that now assaulted his dark brown hair, he didn’t look a day over thirty… five.
“You’ve been talking to my father? ”
“Of course. Even working under a different revue, your father holds a leadership position, and you're his legacy. That alone gives him the clearance to know everything that goes on with you, including your current position in Red Magic.”
My brows knitted together in confusion. Why would he even care? I’m sure he had better things to do with his time than play fly on the wall with Alec.
“And? What did he want to know?”
“It wasn’t what he wanted; it was what I needed.” Okay, Alec, now I’m interested. “As you’re already aware, leadership positions within each of the revues are passed down, and the role doesn’t go to just anyone, only those deserving of the title and the power that comes with it…”
“Yes?…” His dramatic pause made me curious to know more, even though I already had a pretty good idea of where this conversation was going.
“The role itself is treated like a torch, and all existing leadership must agree on who it gets handed to next when an established leader is ready for retirement…” So far, so good.
“Your legacy status puts you first in line for my position, and the final thing I needed was Cole’s permission to give it to you. ”
Alec needed my father’s permission to give me the one thing that I had been working my ass off for, for the past six years. Holy fucking shit.
“I’m listening…” I spoke as coolly as possible, but I was a volcano ready to fucking explode from the news. Because why the fuck wo uld my father say no? He wanted this for me just as much as I did for myself.
“I have to finish drawing up and signing the paperwork, but as of next week, you’ll be taking over as the new leader of Red Magic. The show will be yours to run and manage as you see fit.”
And just like that, my heart stopped in my chest. It was like my fucking birthday and Christmas all rolled into one.
Red Magic was mine. All fucking mine.
A title as coveted as this wasn’t granted often. Typically, once a member receives their leadership title, they hold the position until their retirement, like Alec, or their death. Whichever came first.
It was common for revue dancers to retire once they reached fifty-one, allowing for a solid thirty years of work if they started at twenty-one, like me.
They didn’t have to dance the entire length of their term, but they still had to pay their dues if they wanted to continue collecting paychecks for the rest of their lives.
“You remember the only key requirement of leadership, right?” Alec interrupted my internal reveling, and my stomach bottomed out.
I could feel myself turning pale at his words.
Well shit …
I had almost forgotten the one minor yet crucial detail in becoming a leader—the face of the revue.
“I need to be married…” A heavy sigh fell with my words as my overall excitement crashed to the floor. Fuck.. . “What’s the timeline again?” I asked, not really wanting to know precisely how long I had left to live the life of Vegas’s most attractive and eligible bachelor.
“The sooner, the better. But with the current understanding that you aren’t seeing anyone on an intimate level, you have a year to figure it out. After that, if you aren’t married, your title will be revoked and your position will default to the next candidate in line.”
Fuck that.
I wasn’t about to blow my one shot at having everything I’d been working for, only to hand it over to someone else.
But how the fuck would I find a woman worthy of being my wife within a year?
Hot, fiery, and fierce women didn’t just fall out of the fucking sky.