I feel a shiver run down my spine as I process the implications of her statement. The lady behind the glass collects my money. Satan. I can feel the heat emanating from her, and I know she wants more. A sly smile spreads across her face, and she begins to make her way back over to me, her hips swaying seductively with each step. Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the words send a shiver down my spine. As I step into the dimly lit club, the sounds of upbeat music and muffled chatter envelop me, immediately transporting me to a world where my troubles seem to fade away. The bartender polishes another glass, his eyes flicking towards the stage before returning to his work.
