Ashton had grown up in this city his whole life. It's not like he didn't know strip clubs existed around. he even knew some of them. It's just that he'd never cared to go inside.
Honestly, he didn't even have the time to think about going to one.
But this one? He hadn't even known a place existed. he needed directions just to find it. It was tucked away in some weird, sketchy alley, and he was pretty sure random people couldn't just walk in. Maybe it was one of those private clubs
if that's even a real thing.
The place was drenched in soft, golden light, The air smelled faintly of vanilla, smoke, and expensive cologne. A slow, jazz rhythm filled the room not the loud, pounding bass Ashton expected.
And then there were the dancers.
Men.
They were all All men.
Each one of them were beautiful, flawless skin, sharp jawlines, Their outfits were… well, calling them maid uniforms felt like an insult to actual maid uniform.
Every costume was a variation on the same sinful theme, black lace, silk ribbons, and just enough fabric to keep the imagination dangerously alive.
One of them wore a cropped satin top, unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the collar tied with a delicate bow that did absolutely nothing to hide the tattoos trailing down his neck.
Another had a white apron tied low on his hips low enough that Ashton had to look away feelinb embarrassed and thigh-high fishnets that caught the light and half of his butt showing every time he moved.
There were frills, heels, glitter, and some of them had cat ears.
One even had a leash.
Ashton didn't even realize his mouth had dropped open until a dancer winked at him mid-spin and he snapped his jaw shut so fast his teeth clicked.
Another dancer slid across the polished stage on his knees, head tilted back, lips parted in a teasing smirk as the lights painted his body in gold and shadow. The audience clapped, cheering softly.
he was almost certain only gymnasts could do half that stuff.
He stood there,when Doug's laugh snapped him out of it.
Doug smirked, patted him on the shoulder, and said."you will look amazing in one of those outfits..."
Doug's eyes ran up and down him, slow and appraising, and Ashton felt a chill run through him.
"Nah.." Ashton said quickly, laughing nervously. "I don't think I wanna be involved in any of this. Like, I'm not that desperate yet, you know?"
He took a couple steps back, awkwardly throwing up a peace sign. "Nice dancing, though! I mean, wow. Cool stuff. But I gotta go. Thanks for the offer anyway!"
Doug didn't stop him. He just smiled ... that cold, knowing kind of smile ... and waved goodbye.
Even as Ashton pushed through the door and stepped out into the night, he could still feel Doug's eyes burning into the back of his skull.
When he got home, he didn't even bother taking off his shoes. He dropped face-first onto the bed, hugging a pillow tight against his chest. He was drained, mentally, physically, emotionally. He didn't want to move. Didn't even feel hungry anymore.
Just sleep, he told himself. Wake up, go to work. It's fine. Not eating saves money anyway. Better than feeling hungry and broke at the same time.
---------
A week later, after another long shift at work, Ashton came home exhausted only to find his landlord waiting outside his apartment door.
"Hi, Mrs. Jefferson.." he said carefully. "Uh, everything okay?.."
She didn't smile.
His stomach dropped. "What's wrong? Did I....did something happen?.."
She sighed, her voice soft but firm. "The lease is up, Ashton..."
He blinked. "What do you mean? My boyfriend and I paid three months upfront.."
Her expression turned almost sympathetic. "He only paid for two months. And he called me last week to say he's not renewing the lease..."
Ashton just stood there, frozen. "He… he can't do that. I ..."
"I'm sorry .." she said quietly. "If you can pay this month's rent fully, you can stay. If not, I'll need you to move out by tomorrow."
She stepped past him, leaving him there in silence. Ashton's chest tightened. His breathing quickened.
He fumbled with his keys, his hands shaking so badly he could barely fit one into the lock. The metal scraped, missed, and scraped again. Finally, the door clicked open.
He stood there in the doorway for a long moment, breathing hard, feeling like the whole world had just dropped on his shoulders.
Ashton didn't know what to do.Who could he even go to?
Sam? No. Sam already lived with his son, Ashton couldn't ask him for that kind of help.
Mira? She rented a room at her parents' house. He couldn't crash there either. And honestly, they weren't even that close.
Other friends? He didn't have any. He'd been too busy just trying to survive.
Go back to his parents' house? He'd rather die. He'd rather be another nameless body they found on the street than set foot in that place again.
His siblings? They'd cut him off the second they moved out.
He was alone. Completely, painfully alone.
Why would Max do this?
WhenThey moved in together. Ashton had been so damn happy to finally have his own place somewhere that felt like home. Max swore they'd paid three months upfront. Even if that was a lie, why the hell would he call Mrs. Jefferson and tell her they weren't renewing?
What kind of person does that? What kind of hatred did Max have in him to treat him like this?
Ashton slammed his back against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He buried his face in his knees, his fingers clutching at his hair as silent tears ran down his face.
He had nowhere to go. Nowhere.
What was he supposed to do?
For so long, anger had been the thing that kept him moving the fire that made him fight through everything life threw at him. But now, that fire was gone. There was nothing left but exhaustion, an empty kind of pain that felt like his whole body was shutting down.
He was drained. Empty.
And all he could think was
what do I do now?
With shaky hands, Ashton pulled out his phone. He was crying, his cheeks still streaked with tears, and his fingers trembled as he tried to dial.
"Um, Mrs. Jefferson? Uh, can you… can you please just give me a little more time? I'll move out, I swear. Just not tomorrow, okay? Maybe a month? Or even a week....I don't mind. Just not tomorrow. Please. I've been a good tenant, I never made noise or caused trouble. Just… please give me some time, okay? Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..."
He wiped his nose with his sleeve, sniffling hard. "Yeah, yes. Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much. No, it's fine. Really. Okay. Okay."
When he hung up, Ashton just sat there for a second, staring blankly at his small apartment. A bed, thin curtains, an old TV the same model his family had when he was a kid. The carpet was from a garage sale, the couch secondhand. A few thrifted decorations sat on the shelves.
a little cactus in a chipped pot, some cheap picture frames he'd picked up from Goodwill, nothing fancy, but it had been his. His home.
Or so he thought.
Ashton was never the optimistic type. He'd always been a pessimist it was how he survived. But when he met Max, everything changed. Max was his first everything, his first real friend, first love, first kiss, first boyfriend, first everything.
They talked about getting married one day, starting a family.
Ashton had told him everything his past, his shame, the things he never told anyone. About how, when he was a kid, other students would go eat lunch, but he'd stay in the classroom pretending to study because he had nothing to eat. About getting bullied, about his abusive father.
Max never pitied him. Never looked down on him. He was kind genuinely kind. And that's why Ashton loved him so much.
Max made him believe again, believe that he could have a future, that love was real, that maybe he wasn't doomed to struggle forever. He made him believe that they could be each other's family, each other's safety net.
So when Max suggested they open a joint account, Ashton didn't even hesitate. He thought that was what couples did. He'd put all his money in that account because he thought it was proof of love, proof of trust. And for someone like Ashton someone who grew up with nothing, that was everything. That was the biggest gesture he could give.
He never imagined that Max would take everything.
It's just that he'd been a fool. An idiot.
He'd let his guard down again.
Ashton had always been that kid the broke, beaten kid with no one to protect him. The one who kept hoping someone would care.
He cried for hours, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, clutching his chest like it would stop the ache. When the tears finally stopped, his eyes burned and his face felt numb.
He stared at the ceiling with a sharp, hollow look in his eyes.
He deserved this, didn't he? Maybe he should thank Max, for reminding him not to trust anyone. Because every single person he'd ever put faith in had done the same thing .
abandoned him, ignored him, In Ashton's mind, that was the ultimate betrayal, not caring enough to stay.
He was alone. Completely alone.
And maybe, he thought bitterly, that's exactly what he deserved