"Here they are, the stars of the show!"

The din of the club died behind Jun and Odile as the door to the soundproofed lounge fell shut. Atmospheric lighting dyed everything red and dimmed Odile's discomfiture as she lingered at an awkward distance. Post-handshake, Jun gave in to a bro hug with Vincent Friday.

"Drinks!" Vincent exclaimed. "You do drink, right? You're like... legal here?"

He held out champagne flutes for the pair.

"I'm legal everywhere," Jun commented.

The singer grabbed a glass of his own. "To the best performers of vertical sex I have ever seen!" he toasted.

Odile, the driver, joined in half-heartedly. Vincent noticed and bumped her hip with his own.

"Come on, girl." He draped an arm over her bare shoulders. "Loosen up and live a little. You've earned it."

"It's all thanks to you, Mr Friday."

The singer rolled his eyes. "Mr Friday makes me sound ancient. We're all practically the same age, you know? Call me Vince."

Jun winked. "You got it, Vince."

"So, now that you're here..." He walked the dancers to a crimson-hued sofa. "You know I'm going on my first tour this summer, right?"

"Congratulations," Odile put in.

Vince smirked. Crossing his legs, he reclined in the sinking leather with his arms stretched along the top of the couch. Jun and Odile sat on either side of him.

"I want the two of you," he said, eyeing them in turn, "to join the show. From June through to August, Europe and North America. Should give you plenty of time to get ready."

The dancers glanced at each other. Jun's face exuded pure joy, while Odile strained to smile.

"It's big, I know," Vincent resumed. "So, think it over and get back to me by the end of the weekend, okay? I'm leaving London on Sunday."

Odile fidgeted with the stem of her now-empty glass. "What would we do on this tour?"

"What you've trained to do. Dance your asses off. In front of a live audience."

"The Phenomenal choreography?" Jun guessed.

"With a few... aerial embellishments, if you can manage it."

A knock sounded at the door before a brunette poked her head in. "Wheels up in five, Vince."

"Thanks, Missy." The singer stood up and clapped his hands together. "It's showtime, baby. I know we haven't rehearsed anything, but you're welcome to jump in with your dance if you like. Let's go."

Jun helped Odile up and kept a protective arm around her as they descended into the madness of the flashing lights below. Her tight minidress suddenly felt too small and her ankle-strap pumps, too tall.

"I'm sorry," she spoke into his ear. "I don't think I can manage the dance in this getup."

"I'm sure we can improvise," he replied.

His gelled hair and shirtless tux complimented his unbeatable charisma, which, tonight of all nights, infuriated rather than comforted Odile. She loved to bask in his aura when safe in the knowledge she'd outdo him onstage.

Here, though, stuck in a claustrophobic crowd, his excitement fuelled her growing anxiety. At least he fulfilled his unspoken vow as he steered her through the mob. Not a single stray hand touched her, except Jun's on her hip.

Vincent stepped up to the mic in a chorus of screeches. The club went dark, then spotlights zeroed in on the singer and the mellow beginning of Phenomenal elicited a breathless silence from his audience. When the bass dropped, cheers of delight erupted.

Jun sang along, body swaying beside Odile. She smiled when Jun caught her eye and he launched her into a pirouette. It ended with her spine against his chest and his hands on her waist. His rhythm evaded her, despite his best efforts. Her smile faltered.

Beggars shouldn't be fucking choosers, so... why did this feel so wrong?

Like the worst mistake she could ever make?

Why, when Jun was so bloody happy about it?

Her stomach sank at the realisation that Jun would hate her if she said no to the tour. He whistled and applauded as Vince's performance heated up. Muddled by her racing pulse, the noise rang distorted in Odile's ears.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her sight blurred. Nausea stirred in her gut.

"I can't do it," she babbled. "I can't do it..."

"Odile..." A frown dulled Jun's enthusiasm. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I can't do it!" she yelled and wrestled free.

"Odile!"

She pushed past sweaty bodies and clambered upstairs to the VIP area. The lock of the restroom door clicked before Jun could catch up. The pounding of his fists mingled with the boom of the bass and the thudding of her heartbeat.

Odile gripped the edges of the sink as she contemplated her indigo-tinted twin in the mirror. The fluorescent midnight glow made her face gaunt. Like a glitching hologram, her reflection flickered. She blinked it away and saw double.

An evil Cheshire grin, floating.

A frightened gaze, staring back into her soul.

"Odile! Odile, we need to talk!"

Jun's voice dragged her back to reality.

"Please, just let me in and we can talk this out. Odile..."

She washed her trembling hands with cold water and tapped her incensed skin. The coolness lightened her lungs. She swung the door open. Jun barged in, his signature cockiness missing from the concerned creases across his forehead.

"Odile... Odile, what's going on?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sorry, Jun, but I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"I... I can't do the tour..."

"Wha – " He stumbled as though slapped. "What do you mean? Why?"

"Jun..."

"Odile..." He clutched at her elbows. "Odile..."

She gulped. He knew she couldn't resist it. Couldn't resist him. His arm wrapped around her waist, pushing her into him.

"What can I do? I'll do anything," he murmured. "Anything for you, Odile..."

He kissed her shoulder, her collarbone, her neck. His other hand found its way under her skirt.

"Tell me. One word and I'm all yours."

Lust swirled in his eyes. Her breathing hitched. Her firewall cracked.

"Let's... let's go back to yours..."

The faintest smirk on his full lips. "You think you can wait that long?"

"Yes..." His fingers teased her determination and her knees buckled. "...No."

Jun grinned. "Didn't think so."

He dived into a ferocious kiss, backing Odile up against the sink. His hungry hands on her thighs pushed her dress up her hips and tore at her lacy knickers. The urgency of her arousal burned like lava between her legs. He spun her round and plunged into it from behind. Anything he wanted, anything...

"Odile..."

Ecstasy overtook her expression in the blue mirror. Odile squeezed her eyes shut. She gasped and propped a palm against her reflection, staining it with fingerprints.

"Odile..."

Remorse kicked in at the height of their carnal pas de deux and left Odile scrambling for a sense of satisfaction.

"Please..." Jun's arms circled her midriff, his heat still pulsing within her own. "Fuck, do I have to beg on my knees? Because I will, Odile."

Her head lolled backwards. One of his hands cupped an exposed breast as he licked her throbbing jugular like a thirsty vampire.

"Or do you need me to fuck you senseless first?"

*

Odile woke up in Jun's creaky bed with a raging headache, to the drumming beat of a knife on a chopping board.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Jun the Chef called from the kitchenette across the room.

She groaned in response.

"How do you like your eggs in the morning?"

"Shut up," she grumbled and he chortled.

His attention returned to the carton of eggs on the countertop behind him. "I'm feeling like... sunny-side-up with runny yolk and chunky fries. How does that sound?"

Odile moaned her approval.

Jun snickered. "I bet your mom never lets you have this many carbs for breakfast, huh?"

He tossed the potatoes with oil and seasonings in a baking tray before sticking it into the oven and cracked eggs into the sizzle of a frying pan. Odile couldn't help admiring the ease of his movements, whereas she struggled to get out of bed. Thankfully, her world didn't spin too fast as she ambled into the bathroom.

Jun had set the table by the time she reappeared. He only waited until she sat down.

"Changed your mind about the tour yet?"

She picked up her fork, eyes downcast. "I haven't... I'm sorry."

He snorted. "If you were sorry, you wouldn't do this to me."

Odile rubbed at her temple. Last night's bad decisions collided in her skull. She wasn't supposed to get drunk, goddammit.

"I know you're craving the spotlight, Jun... but you don't know what it's like to grow up in its shadows."

"And you don't know what it's like to grow up with nothing."

His iciness made her shudder.

"Never mind. I'll find someone else to do your part. I can't afford to fuck up this chance."

Her chest constricted. Did he really believe he could replace her?

"Maybe I should go," she whispered.

He nodded at her piled-full plate, stabbed a fat chip and dunked it into yolk. "Not without clearing that."

Famished, Odile didn't argue. She ate in silence and sheepishly accepted a coat and change of shoes from Jun before leaving. They'd left her car at the club, so she walked back there and drove it home.

Belgravia stood quiet at Saturday high noon as Odile snuck into her house. She slipped out of her shoes and carried them up the grand staircase, her pumps dangling from her other hand. Thank fuck the maids had weekends off.

"How good of you to join us," Abigail's voice materialized out of the ether.

Odile froze mid-step.

"Just in time for lunch."

"I'm not hungry," Odile retorted.

"Oh? But you're always hungry."

The girl's fist tightened on the banister. "I already ate, mother."

"What did you eat?"

"Does it fucking matter! I'm not hungry."

Her mother heaved a disappointed sigh. The stretch of uncertain silence pinned Odile in place.

"You'd better be careful with that boy, Odile," her mother said at last. "Before he ruins your career."

"Like dad ruined yours, you mean?"

Abigail pursed her lips together. Odile couldn't stand the condescending look in her mother's eyes.

...worthless freeloader...

...such a disgrace...

...black swan of the family...

Her pumps clattered on the marble steps. Her feet slid back into Jun's too-big trainers and she dashed past her mother out the door.

"Odile! Odile, come back!"

Odile ran like her life depended on it.

Because her future did.

Her career did.

She didn't care about the puddles of muddy snow she splashed into or the pedestrians she shoved on the pavement or the cars honking when she whizzed across the street. Her lungs and her thighs smouldered in the cold, but the adrenaline kept her going.

Forced to slow down at the strip club, her legs gave in up the stairs and she had to crawl the rest of her way to Jun's flat. His door flew open before she got to knock.

"You can't... can't replace me," she panted. "You won't."

He rushed to scoop her up and carried her inside.

"I'm doing the tour."

"Odile..." He lowered her onto the mattress, kneeling at her bedside.

She intertwined their fingers as she caught her breath. "Unstoppable... Right?"