After the pole dance, the feast of Redux sort of kicks off.
A blonde-haired, boldly dressed woman walks onto the stage with a mic, calling herself Mandy. She briefly introduces the evening's performance and makes some playful remarks that are ambiguously subtle but blush-inducing.
"All these men here tonight literally belong to you!" Her expression is extremely exaggerated, and her chest rises and falls with the volume, "Tell me, you are here tonight for—"
Hazel hears a bunch of names, ranging from common people's names, to obvious stage names, to sexually explicit nicknames.
But she spots a name, a familiar name.
Ethan.
It seems that it's really him. "Kinda spunky, isn't he? Coming out as a stripper and just using his real name?" Hazel thought.
"Well, I'll be down in a minute knowing you don't want to see me," Mandy plays the announcer, "Next, let's enjoy - Alex's juicy show!"
Several pounding screams come from one area of the venue.
The man named Alex and a female dancer walk to the center of the dance floor, illuminated like a pool of water, and they are dancing close to each other under the beautiful music. As the beats accelerate, the clothes on their bodies are removed to the point of necessity. The two bodies are staged through the fabric in a steamy position, and constantly shifting poses. Both the power and the dance feel just right.
At the end of the song, Mandy comes back up, one hand over the microphone and the other tapping upwards.
The vibe goes into a frenzy.
Hazel watched that intimate dance in the spirit of appreciating the art. No matter what the line of work, it takes effort to do it well. In the recklessness of the pool, the male wildly threw droplets over the female dancer' bodies. They acted out the pictures, and gave a sense of the sticky pull of emotion.
Mandy shouts, "Do you guys want to be held in bed by Alex!"
"Yes!"
"Well, do you guys want to be held in the arms of…" Mandy is high on something big: "Ethan!"
"Holy shit, is it Ethan today?"
"… Of course I fucking want to!"
The place suddenly sounds like a sonic boom, and the decibels are a level higher than just a few moments ago. Ethan's attraction is obviously bigger than Alex. "Ethan's all cleaned up and waiting for you over there..." Mandy points to the back of the stage, where Ethan Chou, no, should that be Ethan of Redux, is seated in a ruby-colored tiger print armchair with old-fashioned ease. At this cue from Mandy, he stands up and adjusts his cufflinks and watch.
"Ethan, what's with the clothes, y'all coming off at the end!" Vulgar words emerge from the front row, echoing in Hazel's head.
Gray suit pants wrap around Ethan's toned thighs and squeezable ass, a thin black tie hangs from his white shirt. Although his upper body is covered in a tight wrap, his broad shoulders, broad back as well as his lean waist are in full view.
A textbook V-taper.
Sometimes the clothed ones are more visually appealing than the unclothed ones.
"Sisters, we're playing something different tonight," Mandy says as she walks over towards Ethan and hands him a black silk scarf. Ethan takes it and sits back down on the chair. After he ties the scarf over his eyes, he rests his arms casually on either side of the chair, legs splayed wide apart. He unbuttons his shirt, calling out for his pecs to finally be freed, stretching out his shirt and shifting it out of place.
Then he arches his right index finger in an inviting gesture.
All the women are going mad...
Mandy says: "Raise your right hand if you want Ethan to do something to you."
No sooner said than done, Hazel prances to her feet as if she's possessed, wishing her hands were ten meters long and could stand out in a crowd of crazed consumers. Kate, beside her, simply sits in her seat with her hand held up in the air, and she is surprised that Hazel is so put out on her first visit.
"Mandy, look at me!"
"Mandy, pick me..."
"... Well, how about this? All the sisters take out the tickets," Mandy simply changes the rules of the game, "There's a number from 1 to 300 on it... see that?"
Hazel hurriedly pulls out the ticket, with a few half-naked men printed on it, and in the top right corner there is a pink stamp mark.
"OK!" Mandy passes the microphone to Ethan, "Ethan, say one number."
Ethan speaks slowly, his low, magnetic voice echoing through the lust-filled air.
"Is Number 203 here?"
…
The "203" on Hazel's ticket glows blindingly.
"YES!" She says, or more like screams.
Kate covers her mouth in a bit of disbelief. And Hazel stands up and is about to go on stage.
"Don't rush it, girl..." Mandy suddenly calls out to her, "You are sure, like 100% sure, it's okay for you, right?" Mandy adds, "there was this lady who got SERVICED by Ethan before, she said she would not marry anyone other than Ethan, because it was so... much...fun!"
Mandy's comment strikes Hazel as a comically absurd joke, but she catches a hint of a serious, even well-intentioned warning. It's all about having fun, and whoever takes it seriously is a fool.
Being "taken good care of" in plain sight by Ethan Chou, a man she's known for quite some time, went to high school together with for a year and a half, had a brief fling with, and hasn't seen in over a decade. Wouldn't that be a bold sketch in her memoirs?