The Selfless Act of Breathing by JJ Bola

Author:JJ Bola
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2021-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

South Side Chicago, Illinois; 1.15 a.m.

Michael tries not to make it look as though he feels out of place, but he does. The discomfort makes his skin feel as if insects were crawling all over. London strip clubs always appeared to be a who’s who of pervy, middle-aged, mediocre businessmen attempting to escape their mind-numbingly dull lives of boring job, boring wife and boring children, but here, it is different. Everyone in this room looks and acts like him: young, fresh, cool. The room slowly fills up. Some are young men, flashing cash; some are groups of women on a night out with friends; some are even couples. Banga returns with more drinks. He looks at Michael with an ever-familiar grin, and says, ‘I knew you wouldn’t come if I told you where we were going.’

There’s an ATM in the corner. Banga walks over to use it. A woman approaches Michael for a dance. She turns around and slowly backs up into him. He feels her soft body against his hard. It startles him, and he steps back. Banga watches and giggles, holding his drink up to cover his mouth. Banga whispers something in the woman’s ear, which she nods to, and he hands her something. Michael then also walks over to the ATM to withdraw some money; he places it in his wallet.

Lust leaps from Michael’s eyes as he makes a playground of their bodies, but he remains far within himself.

There are spotlights flashing on the main stage, which everyone now moves around. The compere – a barely 5-foot middle-aged man in sunglasses and an oversized five-button suit that makes his core look long and legs short – hypes up the crowd. Women arrive on the stage and start to dance on the pole, showcasing their Olympic-level athleticism. A woman in an orange bikini spins at the top of the pole, holding an outright stretched position as if a superhero in flight. She drops all the way down, evoking gasps from the crowd as she stops within an inch of the stage floor. Michael watches in awe of their bodies, akin to art.

Banga moves closer to the stage and is cheering and whooping. He pulls out a wad of cash and sprays it on the stage to the women. Everyone around him is doing the same. Michael realises it’s not just about the dancing, it’s also about the overzealous display of wealth. So, he, too, joins in throwing money on the stage. The women on the main stage finish the show, yet the night continues. Banga says, ‘Follow me,’ and leads them away.

‘Where are we going?’ Michael asks anxiously.

‘Don’t worry. We going to the private party,’ Banga replies, even more excited than before. They go through doors that Michael was oblivious to, as if a hidden passageway to another world. They enter a room, and the music and smoke submerge them like a fog; loud and thumping. The room is dimly lit, with a burgundy-red tinge of light, which covers them like the sky above.

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