Diamonds Dancing
“Diamond, diamond, diamond, diamonds on me dancing.”
The music caromed off the walls, touching my eardrums, and as it did I watched. I watched her spin around on the pole, and as she did I wondered. I wondered what she had to do to get here, to a place like this. How could a woman so beautiful, so mesmerizing, so enchanting end up here. I loved her… Wait… I didn’t know her… Okay, I do love her. I must be in my Drake’s.
Every Friday I leave work and I come here, Diamond Studios. And just like every other visit I sit toward the back. I’m unassuming, suit undone, top button detached, tie dangling from my neck, and glasses so I can clearly see. The vodka and sprite I drink eases the pain of the work week, but what makes the entire week worth it is resting my eyes on her. She is poetry, as her body sways to the music I fall deeper. I can’t explain it nor do I wish to even try.
How many times, I ask myself as I walk in, how many times can you walk in here and say nothing. I never ask for a lap dance even though she offers. I don’t want one at least not like that. She means much more to me, she is everything, and to her I am just another customer.
So I sit in the corner, as the vodka passes between my lips, I fantasize about what it is like to come home to her. What it must be like to love a woman like that.
“Dance tonight honey?” I hear over my shoulder.
I turn to meet it, but it’s not her. “No thank you,” I say shaking my head.
She scared the shit out of me, and had I said yes it would have felt like cheating. I sit quietly patiently waiting, or impatiently, for her to get to me. Maybe today will be the chance I muster the courage to tell her how amazing I find her to be? Maybe…. But then again I don’t even know her. Then again I do. I am here every Friday, and since What A Time to Be Alive came out she has been twirling to Diamonds Dancing. Before that it was Drake Star67. I know when she comes out, and I know how long she dances.
She is an angel amongst harlots. It angers me to see men grabbing at her, catcalling, and throwing dirty money at her body. I have to remind myself that it is her job and this is in fact the place where our relationship blossomed.
At times I playback thoughts about her and think I may be bordering insanity. Perhaps I’ve made all of this up in my head? Or maybe, just maybe she loves me too?
I check my watch, 8:36 PM… One minute.
I hear the music queue, then “I’m at uh, stage in my life… Metro Boomin’….”
She walks out onto the stage glistening in the lighting. Her silver bikini and stilettos remind of the reasons why I fell in love with her in the first place.
“And you know, what I need, from you…” As Drake’s words meet her ears she grips the pole. She spins freely with her eyes closed. These moments we share are the ones where I find that I love her the most. It’s just her, the music, and myself. No one else matters.
“I haven’t even heard from you. You looked drained, you look exhausted, girl them late nights ain’t good for you.”
When she stops I realize that I had been holding my breath throughout the whole performance. I realize that she has walked from the stage and I am replaying each moment we shared while she was up there. I imagine what it would be like to place my hand on her glittery skin, what it must be like to be close enough to smell the scent of cheap perfume and Bath and Body Works lotion. I dreamt that I was a bead of sweat that trickled down her neck, through the curves of her back, and I met her ass. How close I would be to her, how I could taste every inch of her, and in that instance I was jealous of the liquid that secreted from her body.
As I drift off into a love like state for the woman who I have grown to adore I notice she is standing in front of me.
“Aubrey, right?”
I nod. I search for words, but none come to mind.
She looks at me strangely but continues to talk, “I see you hear like every Friday. Why do you always sit in the back like a creep?” She laughs and touches my chest. My heart stops for just a second.
I still can’t think, I can’t breathe, I want to say something, but nothing… Until… Until…
“You are beautiful,” I blurt out. Luckily the next girl has gone on stage and no one hears my foolish remark, well no one but her.
She smiles, “You’re sweet.”
I smile back, and as I do I think of grabbing her hand and taking her far away from this place. I try to stay out of my Drake’s but I can’t help myself.
“Did you want a dance?” She says with a smile still draped across her face.
I shake my head no. Not like this, our love can’t begin like that I want to say but I opt for silence.
“It was good to see you,” and with that she walked away from me and into the arms of another man.
