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Scott didn’t even drink but this whole situation was this close to driving him to chug a whole bottle of vodka.
The last place that Scott had expected to spend his twenty-third birthday was a strip club. To start, he didn’t even drink often so bars didn’t appeal to him at all, even on his birthday.
When Stephen had suggested that they all go to the club and spend his birthday here, Scott’s initial reaction had been laughter. It had to be a joke. Scott Pilgrim and strip clubs were a ridiculous combination. There was no way that he was being serious.
Stephen’s eyes furrowed at Scott’s sudden laughter at his suggestion. “Why..why are you laughing?” He tilted his head and folded his hands over his chest in disappointment.
Scott looked around at Kim and let out a scoff. He gestured wildly to Stephen. “Because that’s so obviously a stupid joke. Right Kim?”
Kim raised her eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. Stephen was quick to answer. “No, I’m not, Scott. I’m being dead serious.”
Scott stopped his laughter all at once and his arms dropped to his side in disbelief. “No way.” He shook his head wildly and waved his hands to defend himself. “Can you even picture ME at a club? Let alone one with half naked people all over?”
Scott's shock lingered, but Stephen's stern expression indicated the sincerity of the proposal. The awkward silence that followed hung heavy in the air as Scott grappled with the unexpected turn of events. Kim's gaze shifted between the two friends, sensing the tension that had suddenly started to suffocate them.
The notion of Scott, the unassuming and somewhat awkward guy that he is, in the midst of a strip club's flamboyance was beyond surreal. Kim couldn’t help but snort at the image in her head.
Scott’s attempt to rally support from Kim revealed how desperate he was to avoid what seemed like an impending disaster. "Come on, Kim, tell me he's messing with me. This has to be a prank or something," Scott pleaded as he clinged to her and shook her a bit.
Kim, caught between amusement and sympathy, uncrossed her arms and sighed. "Sorry, Scott, but this seems legit. Stephen's got some bizarre logic behind it, I'm sure." She shot a quizzical glance at Stephen, silently urging him to provide an explanation.
Stephen, realizing the need to justify his unconventional plan, took a deep breath. "Look, man, we just thought you could use a change of pace. You've been kind of busy with the band and you suck with dating, and... well, you know," Stephen hesitated, glancing at Kim as if seeking her approval to divulge more.
Kim's eyes narrowed as she folded her arms, signaling Stephen to spill the beans. "Out with it, Stephen. What's the real deal?"
Stephen sighed, "Fine. Scott, when was the last time you got laid?"
Scott's face turned crimson as the revelation sank in, realizing that his friends had orchestrated this not-so-subtle intervention. “You..You can't just ask me that! That’s a very private thing!” He shouted at his friends in embarrassment.
Kim sighed and took over the conversation for Stephen. With a roll of her eyes, “That is Scott Pilgrim for ‘it’s been a long time.’”
He covered his ears to block out what they were saying. This was not the time for them to grill him for how he’s been having a bit of a dry spell recently. “I don’t have to answer that!”
Kim smirked a bit and rolled her eyes before she plopped down on the couch. “You Just did.”
The discomfort he felt at the idea of a strip club suddenly shifted to a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "You guys are unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, filled with annoyance at their intrusive methods.
And so that is how Scott Pilgrim allowed himself to get dragged, albeit a bit begrudgingly, to this dinghy club for his birthday. They were waiting outside, Stephen even went as far as to pick up Scott from his mom’s place just so he wouldn’t bail out at the last minute. Scott was all out of options and just had to suck it up for a few hours.
Kim eyed Scott up and down, clearly not impressed at the attire he had picked out for this specific occasion. “Is that really what you’re going to be wearing to pick someone up?”
Scott looked down at his outfit. He would call it a perfectly good outfit if it wasn’t for Kim’s judgmental gaze. He was in the same kind of clothes he would always wear on a regular day. He had his worn out sneakers with a bit of mud caked on them from his long walks in the snow, a Plumtree t-shirt (arguably the best thing he had in his closet), and some jeans that he got a few years ago.
Scott gave her a pout and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What’s wrong with what I’ve already got on? I look respectable!”
She eyed what she and Stephen were wearing. It wasn’t like they were in full glamor but they clearly put a bit more thought into what they put on.
“Listen, Scott. You look like you don’t have a home.” She put a hand on his shoulder to drive the point home.
Scott zipped his parka up more so it would cover his shirt. He looked away in embarrassment as he huffed, “I always look like a hobo to you, Kim.”
Kim's blunt assessment of Scott's attire added another layer of discomfort to an already awkward situation. The dimly lit exterior of the strip club seemed to emphasize the contrast between Scott's casual outfit and the presumed dress code of the establishment. As Stephen unlocked the car, Scott couldn't escape Kim's disapproving gaze.
Stephen, sensing the tension, chimed in with an attempt at humor. "Come on, Scott, it's not a fashion show. You're fine." He shot a knowing glance at Kim, silently urging her to ease up on their birthday boy.
Kim, however, wasn't one to hold back. "Fine? He looks like he's about to embark on a solo expedition to the North Pole, not hit the town for his birthday," she remarked, her tone laced with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
Scott, feeling the need to defend his fashion sense, tugged at his parka and shot back, "Hey, this is my signature look. Practical and comfortable. Plus, it's Toronto, Kim! What do you expect me to wear, a suit?"
She sighed, clearly unimpressed. "Whatever, Scott. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you scare away all the potential suitors there. Let’s just go in already."
The three of them walked in and walked down the hallway until they came across the burly doorman. He was blocking the door and he looked at them expectantly.
Stephen stepped up and introduced himself. “Hey, reservation for three under the last name Stills? Stephen Stills? I don’t know if that is a common last name or anything.”
The doorman looked over his book of reservations and saw their name on the list. He looked over them to see if anyone needed to be carded. He lingered his gaze on Scott but shrugged and let them in.
As they entered the dimly lit interior of the strip club, the loud thumping music and the alluring glow of neon lights welcomed them. Scott, still grappling with the discomfort of the situation, surveyed the surroundings with a mix of curiosity and he felt overwhelmed at the amount of stimulation all around them. The contrast between the mundane aspects of his everyday life and the flashy, provocative atmosphere inside the club was stark and gave him a bit of whiplash.
Kim, maintaining her critical gaze, couldn't help but roll her eyes at the eclectic crowd and the suggestive decor. Stephen, attempting to lighten the mood, clapped Scott on the back. "See? Not so bad, right?" he said with a reassuring smile.
Scott, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar territory, simply nodded in response. The trio made their way to a booth, where Stephen signaled for a server. As they settled in, Scott couldn't escape the sense that he was a fish out of water, surrounded by an environment that felt alien and uncomfortable.
The arrival of a server prompted an awkward exchange as Scott, not a drinker, fumbled through the menu. "Just a... water, please," he mumbled, feeling the weight of Kim's judgmental gaze.
Kim, seizing the opportunity to tease Scott further, leaned in and whispered, "You sure you don't want something stronger to ease the nerves?"
Scott shot her a glare that fell short, his embarrassment deepening. "Water's fine, Kim. I don’t really drink, not my thing hah."
Stephen, sensing the tension, interjected a bit to ease the tension. "Come on, let's lighten up. It's a celebration, after all."
Scott kept his head down as the drinks arrived and they started to chat. The smell of a strong cologne hit his nose and he really didn’t want to look but the smell caught his interest. His eyes, which were originally focused on his drink, glanced at a pair of legs that were suddenly at the side of the table. His eyes glanced up at the long legs and met the eyes of a very attractive man who was dressed in an outfit that left very little to the imagination. He gulped a bit as he examined the man’s facial features.
He trembled a bit as he took in the man’s soft features and dazzling eyes. He couldn’t help but sneak a look at his dangerously revealing outfit again. He was sure he was turning redder by the second.
“Hello, I’m Wallace and I’ll be your host tonight,” the man shouted so he would be heard over the crappy music being played in the back. “I heard there was a birthday boy here, who is it?” He swiftly put his hand on his hip while he gripped the corner of the table.
Scott, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, reluctantly raised his hand, feeling a mix of embarrassment and curiosity as all eyes turned toward him. Wallace, the attractive host, flashed a charming smile and leaned in slightly, making the dimly lit surroundings seem even more intimate.
Wallace looked over the shy boy who was gripping his water glass way too hard to be natural. He was not his usual clientele, he usually got men who were confident in themselves. And this guy…if he didn’t know better he would think he didn’t want to be here at all.
The guys that usually paid for his services were way older and far creepier. Their kids probably don’t even call them anymore. So this guy was like a breath of fresh air, even if he was literally shaking in his seat.
He reached his hand out for Scott to shake. “So, what’s your name handsome?” He winked at him playfully.
Scott, feeling like a deer caught in headlights, nervously extended his hand to shake Wallace's. The room suddenly felt warmer, as he put his hand in his. Wallace’s hand was much bigger as it wrapped around Scott’s. "Uh, I'm Scott," he mumbled, his voice a bit shaky.
Wallace, picking up on Scott's unease, grinned and gave his hand a friendly shake. "Nice to meet you, Scott!" Wallace's infectious energy seemed to contrast sharply with Scott's apprehension.
Kim, observing the interaction, couldn't resist a smirk as she took a sip of her drink. Stephen, on the other hand, seemed thoroughly entertained by the unexpected turn of events.
Wallace, undeterred by Scott's awkwardness, leaned in a bit closer, his tone playful as he lowered his voice. "So, Scott, first time in a place like this?"
Scott, fidgeting with his water glass, nodded hesitantly. He tried to look anywhere but at Wallace in case he was caught staring. "Yeah, um, definitely not my usual scene."
Wallace chuckled, "No worries! We're here to make sure you have a good time. Anything specific you're looking for on your special day?"
Scott, now redder than ever, stammered, "Oh, uh, I'm good, really. Just, you know, a quiet night would've been nice." As he said that last part he partially glared at his friends.
Wallace raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Quiet? In a place like this? You've got some interesting friends, Scott." He laughed a bit and the sound felt like heaven on earth to Scott.
“So shall we get on and get to the good part?” He asked with a teasing smile. Scott almost spat out his drink at the comment. He hit his chest to regain his composure as he coughed a bit.
“E-Excuse me?” Scott asked in disbelief between coughs.
Wallace laughed a bit as he looked around the table at Scott’s friend’s amused expressions. “Did your friends not tell you? They paid for a private dance.”
If Scott were a violent man, he would have lunged at his friends and strangled them right then and there. But, he swallowed his frustration and grabbed his cup of water and followed Wallace into one of the private rooms.
The private room was essentially just like the main room but without a bar and it was much smaller. There was a plush couch and a small light on the ceiling that provided an intimate amount of light. Wallace grabbed a bottle of alcohol before following right behind.
Scott assumed he was supposed to sit down on the couch so he begrudgingly sat himself down.
Wallace took a swig from the bottle and saw how Scott watched him with confusion written all over his face. He laughed a bit with the bubbles from the alcohol tickling the back of his throat.
“I’m allowed to drink on the job as long as I don’t get shitfaced, you know?” Wallace explained a bit while swirling the drink a bit. “But trust me, stud, I don’t need to drink to have a good time with you.”
Scott let out a small whimper but tried to cover it up by taking a sip of his water. “Can we just stay here for a bit and then pretend you gave me a lap dance?” He mumbled against the edge of the cup.
Wallace approached him with a confused look in his eye. “I don’t know, what else would we do? I’m kind of being paid to knock your socks off here with my hips, guy.” He laughed a bit at the absurdity of the situation.
Scott squirmed a bit and adjusted his collar. “Talk a bit maybe? You seem nice, you know!” He let out an awkward laugh as he shifted around.
Wallace, finding Scott's request both amusing and endearing, chuckled as he settled onto the plush couch beside him. The dim light in the small private room created an intimate atmosphere, and the music from the main floor muffled into a distant thump.
"Sure, we can chat. It's not every day I get to entertain someone looking for a conversation in this joint," Wallace said with a playful smirk, taking another sip from his bottle. He gestured for Scott to relax.
Wallace took the seat next to Scott and rested his legs over Scott’s as he leaned back a bit and got comfortable.
"So, guy, spill. What's the story behind getting dragged into this place?" Wallace asked, his tone lighthearted as he eyed Scott curiously.
Scott, feeling a bit more at ease with the unexpected turn of events, scratched his head. "Honestly, it's my birthday, and my friends thought it would be a good idea to shake up my routine. But this?" He gestured to the dimly lit room, "This is way beyond shaking things up, even for them."
Wallace laughed, the sound echoing in the small space. "Well, you gotta admit, it's a memorable way to spend your birthday. Beats a quiet dinner, doesn't it?"
Scott, despite his initial discomfort, found himself chuckling. "I guess you have a point. Never thought I'd be having a conversation in a strip club."
Wallace grinned, "Life's full of surprises, Scott. Sometimes, you end up in unexpected places, talking to unexpected people." He took another swig from his bottle, offering it to Scott.
Scott shook his head, declining the offer. "Nah, not a drinker. Never acquired the taste."
Wallace chuckled, "Fair enough. So, aside from dodging this wild birthday surprise, what else do you do? Any exciting hobbies or secret talents?"
Scott shrugged, "I'm in a band, play bass. Nothing too wild, just local gigs and stuff. And uh, I play video games a lot."
Wallace raised an eyebrow, "Bass player and a gamer, huh? Interesting combo. Wouldn’t have expected it from a handsome guy like you."
As the conversation continued, Scott found himself opening up more to Wallace. The awkwardness that initially filled the room began to dissipate, replaced by an unexpected connection. The two discussed everything from music preferences to favorite video games, gradually turning what should have been an uncomfortable encounter into an oddly enjoyable exchange.
In the midst of their banter, Wallace shared snippets of his own life outside the strip club, weaving tales of diverse encounters with patrons and his adventures in the city. The private room transformed into a bubble of genuine conversation, shielding them from the outside world.
As the night progressed, Scott discovered that Wallace's charismatic personality extended beyond the flamboyant atmosphere of the strip club. They laughed, exchanged stories, and, in an odd way, forged a peculiar friendship amid the unconventional setting.
Eventually, Wallace glanced at the time, realizing the night was winding down. "Well, Scott, it's been a pleasure talking to you. Not what you expected, huh?"
Scott grinned, the unease from earlier replaced with a genuine smile. "Definitely not. Thanks for making this... well, less weird than it could've been."
Wallace stood up, offering Scott a hand. "Anytime, Scott. If you ever find yourself in need of another unexpected chat, you know where to find me."
Scott’s cheeks flushed as he took Wallace’s hand for the second time this evening. He fumbled a bit with something in his pocket and pulled out a pen. He silently asked Wallace if he could write something.
“Go ahead, guy, I’m intrigued,” Wallace mumbled as he watched Scott write his number on his hand. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. He wasn’t used to feeling this way for a guy, let alone a client. This felt different.
“Here, you can call me after your shift, maybe you can see me and my band play sometime? We suck,” Scitt chuckled before putting the pen away. He waved as he walked out the private room.
Wallace traced over where Scott wrote on the back of his hand with a dazed look. He followed Scott out and whispered in his ear flirtatiously.“I still owe you that dance, anyway.”
Scott’s face turned red as he nodded his head.
“SCOTT YOU BETTER TELL US WHAT HAPPENED IN THERE!” Stephen called out, standing up out of his chair.