Mr. Twang: A Fake Relationship Romance

“Ah!” He nodded quickly. “Our special guest for the evening—come with me.”

I was led to another set of wooden doors. I could hear music coming from the other side. He pulled the doors open and motioned for me to enter. The first thing that hit my senses was the smell of smoke. I walked into a crowded room full of men dressed in suits, naked women dancing in cages, and cocktail waitresses with little left to the imagination serving drinks. There were strobe lights flashing, and once the doors were open the music was almost deafening. The room looked to be filled with debauchery of all kinds and it was clear that the people in the main part of the club weren’t there for a happily ever after. The closest they might come to that would be a happy ending. It was like a carousel of flesh rather than a night club.

“Come with me.” The man in the tuxedo walked up beside me. “We have a VIP suite reserved for you.”

VIP suite?