Chapter Text
Keng really wanted to go home. The bass of the music was drumming in his chest, and the smell of different kinds of alcohol made him nauseous.
He didn’t even know half of the guys who had dragged him to this club. Most of them were the sons of his parents’ business associates. Keng’s father really wanted him to mingle more, and practically forced him to attend a recent get-together of what seemed like every rich person in town.
After a few well-timed laughs and someone mentioning Keng‘s last name mid-conversation, one of them apparently deemed him important enough to attend his bachelor party. Which is how Keng found himself in the midst of twelve other very intoxicated rich guys hollering and throwing money at exotic dancers.
He pulled on his collar and shifted in his seat. It was way too hot and loud in here. This really wasn’t his scene at all. Keng mostly kept to himself all his life, his academics a lot more essential to him than making meaningless friendships. But ever since he finished his business degree in the nearby private university, his father has been on his ass to associate more with the people in their circle, emphasising how critical it was to forge strong alliances.
And because Keng couldn’t deny any of his father’s requests, he was now suffering in silence. He huffed out a deep sigh. The guys have started pouring their drinks over the future groom. He scrunched up his nose and decided to flee for a while.
“I’m just going to get some fresh air.” he muttered under his breath and stood up to leave the booth. No one even spared him a glance.
He tried to remember the way to the exit when another stage caught Keng’s eye. Instead of a barely clothed woman, there was a young man dancing, his back facing the audience. He was dressed in red leather and flowy pants that caught the light with every movement.
Keng almost walked into a bar stool because he couldn’t stop staring. Now, this was very different from what he expected to find in a club like this. The dancer twirled around on stage, moving his hips seductively, and dragging his hands over his body. Keng felt like he was being hypnotised.
Instead of leaving, he sat down on the very same stool he had almost collided with and started observing. After a minute that felt like an eternity, the dancer finally turned around and faced his audience. Keng felt the breath leave his lungs.
It was the most beautiful man he had ever seen, dark brown hair framing a delicate face, make-up enhancing the high cheekbones and plump lips. Keng’s mouth ran dry.
“Enjoying the performance?” a voice behind him suddenly asked. He turned around, startled, and found himself inches away from the bartender. The woman must’ve been a little older than him and was as beautiful as the rest of the employees. She leaned over the counter and grinned at him.
“Uhm,” he replied dumbly. “I… Uh, I’m-“ She interrupted him with a laugh. “You can request a private dance if you like him, you know?”
Keng felt blood rushing to his face. “Oh god, no. I’m not like that! I’m not even here voluntarily!” he stammered out. The bartender looked thoroughly amused by him. Keng turned his head back to face the dancer, determined not to miss any more of the performance.
“Want a drink if you’ll be here for a while?” she asked him. He thought about his options for a second and decided that he would definitely rather stay here than return to the other guys.
“Sure, I’ll take a whiskey,” he replied, his eyes not leaving the dancer for a second. When he received his drink, he decided to be brave and ask what has been running through his mind for the past few minutes.
“What’s his name?” She chuckled behind him. “That’s Angel.” Keng furrowed his brows. That sounded more like a stage name to him. But before he could open his mouth to ask further questions, she interrupted his thoughts. „No, I’m not telling you the real names of our performers. But Angel is rather fitting, don’t you think?“ He just nodded. It indeed felt like looking at a real angel.
“You should leave a tip if you enjoy the performance, my friend,“ she added after a few minutes. Keng felt himself go rigid at that. He remembered the way the other guys were stuffing money in the skirts and bras of the dancers at their table.
He tore is eyes away from Angel, looking at the bartender a bit unsure. Keng could not imagine leaving the safe shadows of the bar and parading to the front of the stage to put some money into the dancer’s pants. He felt a little faint even thinking about it.
„I mean, I want to, I really do. But…“ he trailed off, feeling defeated. She cocked her head to the side. “You’re a shy one, aren’t you?” she smiled at him. Keng knew his ears must’ve been bright red by now. “Like I said, I don’t really do stuff like this,“ he murmured, avoiding her eyes.
“Well, his set is coming to an end soon, so you better decide quickly.” She snorted at the way Keng‘s face dropped. „Yeah, you missed quite a lot. Angel usually starts at 11:30 and performs for an hour. But like I mentioned, you can always get a little private show afterward,“ she winked at him.
Keng decided to ignore the small jab and just enjoy Angel’s last song for the night. His throat felt a little tighter every time he watched someone else give money to the dancer. He really wanted to leave a tip, but his body refused to move.
So instead, he watched Angel make a final round around the stage and then leave with a cheeky wave and a wink. Keng slumped back against the bar and sighed. Time to pay for his drinks and return to his party.
But, looking over to their table, he realised that everyone seemed to have left. He let out a breathy laugh. They really forgot about him.
Well, one thing less to worry about.
With that, he turned to the bartender to pay for his whiskey. Just then, he had an idea. “Excuse me,“ he started, “Could I maybe leave a tip for Angel with you?”
She raised her eyebrows at that. „Well, that’s a first. But sure!“ She pulled out an envelope and scribbled Angel’s name on it. “Just put in what you want, I’ll make sure to give it to him.”
Keng was so, so relieved. This was the perfect solution for him. He didn’t even think about it and pulled out 20,000 baht in cash to put inside the envelope. “Thank you so much, you’re the best.” With that, he handed her another 2000 baht, and decided to finally go home.
“You’re a good guy, you know?” she called after him. “Hope to see you again soon!”
Hell no, Keng thought. I’m glad that this is over. Still, he threw a wave over his shoulder and finally made his way to the exit.
•
Turns out that this night had permanently altered his brain chemistry. As much as Keng tried, he simply could not stop thinking about Angel. It’s only been a few days, but he felt like an addict in withdrawals.
So, that’s how he found himself one week later in the same club on the same stool at exactly 11:22, buzzing with excitement.
Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned to see the bartender beaming at him. „You’re back! And right on time at that!“ she exclaimed. Keng rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “Had nothing better to do,“ he mumbled in response.
She threw him a knowing look and just poured him a glass of the same expensive whiskey he had last time.
He looked at her in surprise. “You remember that?” She slid the glass over to him and responded with a shrug. “I only remember the kind ones. And you look the type of person to enjoy a good glass of whiskey.“
Keng didn’t know what to say to that, so he just thanked her and turned to the stage. Exactly at 11:30 Angel stepped on stage. Yet again, Keng‘s breath caught. He was in a skin-tight black shirt this time, shoulders bare and glittery hair twinkling in the stage lights. He even had a gemstone placed on his lower lip.
Unwanted thoughts began invading Keng‘s brain. What would it feel like to run his fingers over the pale skin? What would it be like to kiss the other one with the gemstone between their lips?
Get it together, Keng. The set hadn’t even started, and his pants already felt tight. He took a big sip of his drink and settled back against the bar.
The show was just as captivating as last week, Keng‘s eyes raking over every inch of Angel’s body, determined to burn the image in his brain. The hour-long performance was over way too quickly for his liking. Angel collected his final round of tips and left the stage gracefully, almost floating down.
Keng turned to the bartender, who already looked at him knowingly. “He really appreciated your kindness last time,“ she said to him before he could even open his mouth, “Though he was a little bit sad that he couldn’t thank you personally.”
“Oh, that’s fine.” Keng fiddled on his collar. “As long as he gets the tip, I don’t need him to thank me.” She let out a deep sigh. “You’re a weird one, you know that? Anyone else would love for the dancers to know who their top spender is.”
Keng was prepared this time. He pulled out an envelope that was already labeled with Angel’s name and stuffed with money, and pushed it over to her. He handed her two 1000 baht banknotes, just like last time, and hopped off his stool.
She accepted both and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t bother coming in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he won’t be here.” He looked at her for a second before mumbling a quiet “Thank you” and leaving the club.
•
This had now turned into a regular occurrence. He usually visited the club twice a week, always hiding at the bar, drinking a single glass of whiskey and leaving a stack of cash for Angel.
His father was elated that he was finally leaving the house more, but he obviously didn’t tell his parents that he was out throwing his money at an exotic dancer.
Keng also felt like he had struck up a weird type of friendship with the bartender. After a few weeks of visiting, they were on a first name basis. Engfa had also made it a habit to have him try a different kind of whiskey every few weeks. She mostly left him alone, though, which he really appreciated.
What he did not appreciate was that she kept pestering him to go up to Angel and give him the tip personally. He liked their little routine and didn’t want to change a thing, thank you very much.
Sometimes Engfa would point out a pair of earrings or some expensive shoes on Angel and told him that it was Keng’s money that was responsible for that particular purchase. That part just worsened Keng’s addiction to his new hobby. He felt so content and proud about helping his Angel out.
“Thanks, Engfa,” he said after the show had ended and set his glass down. He reached inside his coat for the money, but she turned away from him. Before he could ask what was wrong, he heard a pleasant voice behind him.
“So, you’re the mysterious guy.”
Keng turned around and immediately went rigid. Angel stood in front of him, barely a meter away, and stared at him with an unreadable look in his eyes.
This was bad, this was really, really bad.