Heads up long chapter be prepared lol
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"It's time to get birthday drunk
I'm talking 'bout birthday slumped
Bend it over this your birthday song
Let the dress come up
Show your birthday thong."

___

It was packed for the Leo party.

It was packed in Phoenix for Ms. Tia Sangria.

"Holy shit!" Luke drums his hands excitedly on Harry's shoulders, as the boys all stand in line awaiting entry into the club. "Holy fucking shit I'm so excited!"

"It's your twenty-first," Harry grins, his chest practically fully exposed thanks to the black button-up shirt that's barely buttoned. "It's a big deal, mate."

Zayn laughs. He's been sipping on Grey Goose before the night even really got started, thanks to the pre-gaming they did at his place before they all headed down to the club.

Luke's excitement is making him excited. And it helps that all of his friends are tipsy like him and giggling and also feeding off of Luke Hemmings' excited energy.

Even Calum--who is, for the most part, fairly lively and fairly excited for someone who had been dreading showing up to this club.

Zayn thinks the Grey Goose was mostly to thank.

The plan was to go to Phoenix for Luke's, buy a table, buy more bottles with the table, and surprise Luke at the end of the night with a birthday present of a lifetime--a VIP private lap dance with Ms. Sangria, herself. That seemed to be a pretty perfect ending to a good-ass night courtesy of a twenty-one-year-old's best friends.

"--if I do say so myself," finishes Harry.

"A private," Luke gapes, "a private dance."

Ashton nods in approval.

Luke blinks. "What...what're you saying, Hazza?"

"Well," Mikey claps him on the back, "we bought you a--"

"We bought you a VIP experience with Ms. Sangria, herself."

"The resident--"

"Leo."

"Jesus, Haz," Ashton laughs. "Let 'im get a word in, would ya?"

"Can't," Harry grins. "I'm too excited. I worked too hard to make this a good night. Luke pretty much owes me his life, now."

The boys are all laughing as Luke blinks. "No--No fucking way."

Harry holds out his arms, "Happy birthday!" He exclaims, just as the lines move forward and the boys are stopped by a bouncer and a hostess.

She takes their ID's and looks them up on the guest list--because tonight, things were different. Tonight, all entrants had to have signed up before; they had to be on a guest list.

"Oh," she grins, "A table and unlimited bottle service," she grins. "Nice."

Niall claps Luke hard on the back, "S'all for this one's birthday, eh."

"Okay, birthday boy," she winks one of her slanted eyes,  "Let me check on that table for you, yeah."

And she leaves them to the bouncer, who pats them down before they're allowed entry.

Phoenix isn't as...as flashy as Zayn thought.

In fact, it's kind of boring. The club was a renovated hotel in Shoreditch, tucked up in the middle of a rather quiet commercial neighborhood. At night, most of the shops closed, and then the restaurants, and finally around eleven Phoenix came alive. Zayn would've completely passed it had he not been with his mates. There was no signage, save for a bright red bird illuminated where the hotel's name--The Phoenix Hotel--used to be.

But, despite the small size and relatively inconspicuous nature, judging by the long line forming behind him, the place had no shortage of visitors.

The girl returns with another girl; she's Asian and blonde and she's got nipple piercings Zayn can see through her sheer, black, two-piece catsuit. She's got a headband with ears on it, and he figures it's all to go with the theme; it's leo season after all.

This girl must work inside, because she's got a name-tag that reads Aria, unlike the hostess, who holds out neon wristbands.

"This your first time, boys?" She asks.

"Actually," Harry nods, as she ties the band around his wrist first. "It is."

"Bound to have a good time, then," she grins. And she ties a band around each of their wrists, finishing with Zayn. "Let one night at Phoenix change your life," she winks, and lifts the rope, offering them entrance into the club. "And welcome to Leo Season."

The girl, Aria, motions for them to follow. "Right this way, boys," and for the first time, they're led inside of Phoenix.

Calum is feeling the buzz of all that Grey Goose.

And he trails behind his friends into the club with a mix of apprehension and excitement, because Kezie actually worked here and not only did he want to scope out the club, but the natural curiosity within him had him kind of wanting to see her.

It was better if she wasn't working.

Or, was it?

He wanted a lap dance.

No. Maybe he didn't, though.

Would that blur too many lines? With Kezie, he couldn't tell. He didn't know if she'd be okay with something like that, just like he wasn't sure if she was really not trying to fuck around with him anymore; if she really didn't want to do it with him again.

The thought had been haunting him.

"I'm not about to fuck you again. We can't do this..." she'd said, and it sounded like she had meant it.

But, Calum thought that maybe she was just kidding; like he'd hoped she wasn't serious the first time she'd said it when they'd had their first reunion those years ago.

The sex was so good.

There's no way she didn't enjoy it. No possible way.

Unless there was someone else.

No--No, there couldn't be. Calum shakes that idea completely from his psyche. No fucking way. Kezie wasn't fucking with anyone else.

She couldn't be.

"Right this way, gentlemen," smiles Aria. Calum can see her nipples through her shirt--Kezie had nipple piercings, too. Now, he's staring at this woman's breast and thinking about Kezie's.

Luckily, she doesn't notice. If she does, she must just be used to it.

"Your table's this way."

Now, Calum is watching this girl's ass sway in her suit and shit; he hasn't even seen the strippers yet and already, the girls are looking like this. There was a very obvious appeal to strip clubs.

He might just enjoy himself...

If his best friend didn't work at one.

"Get your mind off Kezie and have fun."

Calum looks up, and Zayn's got his elbow in his side and a knowing look in his eyes.

"Seriously, Cal," he says, because Zayn is really very low-drama and this is something Calum knows. "S'gonna be fine."

"Right," he nods, because he'd like to believe that. 

"She's not here," Zayn says. "Let's just say she's not here."

Calum nods again. He'd like to believe that, too. He'd like to believe that everything would be fine, and Kezie wasn't working tonight, and since she was nowhere near this club full of horny men just like him he wouldn't have to worry about said men trying anything with her so he could relax.

He could relax.

He repeats this in his mind, as he trails behind his excited friends into the club.

Kezie isn't here tonight.

Kezie isn't here tonight.

She's not working.

She's not here.

They're led through a hall with hanging chandeliers and low light. It makes sense that this used to be a hotel. This obviously used to be a lobby.

And there are ATM's across from the front desk, where girls are counting money in the low red lights.

They walk across plush crimson carpet, covered in expensive-ass, Turkish rugs, and his mates are going crazy with anticipation until Aria pulls open the ornate double doors at the end of the hall and music and club lights and naked bodies hit them all at once.

Phoenix isn't as big as Zayn thought, either.

And because the club is so packed, it seems a bit smaller. It's a box, literally, with tables and booths bordering the edge of what appears to be an old ballroom, because the chandeliers are still hanging and the walls are as ornate and intricate as the ceilings. But, there's a deejay booth smack dab in the center of the space, and on one side of the raised booth is a large stage with three poles and on the other is the bar. On the opposite side of the bar is a smaller stage with a single pole and Zayn almost misses the last stage across the room because he's entranced by the girls working those poles and he barely notices that the table they're being led to has a pole too and he barely notices that every table's got a pole because he can barely see anything but all the tits and all the pussy and all the perfect bodies shaking in his face.

"Here's your table," says Aria, but Zayn's pretty much not hearing any of her words. "The girls'll be out with the rest of your drinks, okay?"

And thankfully, Harry's taken charge of this ordeal because he answers, and Zayn completely misses his answer because there are girls working the two smaller stages and there are girls working the poles at the VIP tables and Zayn's wondering when the hell they're gonna get a girl to work the pole at their table because that's something he didn't realize he needed until this very moment inside of this magical club.

More girls in the sheer bodysuits come, and they're carrying ice buckets and giant bottles of champagne and small containers of lime slices.

"Unlimited, right?"

Harry nods; he's the unofficial head of this whole reservation. He's employed his signature smile, flirting with the girl in a way that's got Ashton and Niall laughing behind him.

He grins that cheeky, sideways smile, "Right."

Zayn's feeling for the notes in his pocket. He's ready to throw some bills. He needs another drink.

"I'm ready to fucking go crazy," Ashton says, voicing his complete thought.

Zayn is ready to go crazy, too.

And like that, Harry nudges Zayn, motioning with his head towards Calum, whose eyes are locked on the girls onstage, "How's he looking?"

Zayn's wondering when there will be girls on the big stage--the one with the three poles.

"Uh..." It takes everything to tear his eyes from this girl with tattoos up her ribcage, He blinks, "S'is girl here?"

"No sign of Kezie."

"Good," Zayn sighs. "M'fuckin' praying she's taken tonight off."

"Same," Harry grins, as he watches girls return with bottles of champagne lighting up the darkness with sparklers, "So, how'd the new girlfriend take you going a strip club?"

Suddenly, the mention of Asmaa snaps Zayn out of his trance.

He's so glad he didn't tell her about this.

"You're assuming I told her."

"You didn't?" And Harry chokes on a laugh. "Seriously, Zayn?"

"So she can flip out?" And Zayn doesn't think Asmaa would be the type of girl to flip out over him going out with his mates, but still. They weren't even dating.

"Like, we're not even dating," he shrugs, leaning in to speak over the music.

And Harry laughs, his dimples popping as he sticks his tongue against his cheek. "So, since you're not dating, why would it matter, then?"

Zayn frowns. "What do you mean?"

Harry shrugs, "If you're not together, why would she care about you going out? Why would you care about her knowing?"

Zayn falters with his answer, "I mean--"

And Harry claps him hard on the back, as a bottle girl with a huge ass and a gap between her two front teeth approaches the table with giant bottles of Patrón.

"Seems like you're the one who cares, mate," he replies, turning his attention to the girl. "But, hey," he shrugs, "we're here for Luke."

"What the fuck d'you mea--"

"Alright, alright!" And Zayn shuts up and Harry laughs as the deejay cuts the music and steps onto the main stage, "It's midnight, and I'm sure all you ladies and lads know what that means..."

The huge crowd makes the small space shake against the roar. It had his mates smiling; this was one hell of a party.

"...S'time to celebrate Leo Season with all my Leo's! Make some noise if you're in here celebrating a birthday!"

The crowd responds again, louder, now. Zayn's reaching for the empty glasses, helping Harry fill up glasses for his friends. Never mind the Grey Goose from earlier--that buzz was starting to wear off, anyway. They were drinking, again.

"Alright, alright," the deejay hushes the crowd, "Now, I know you're here for the good food, and the free shots, and I know you're here 'cause of all these fine-ass Phoenix baddies working tonight--"

Zayn and his mates start hollering with the crowd; joining in the approval.

"--but," the deejay continues, "tonight's a special celebration," he continues, "'cause my girl is--" And he pauses, "You know what? What the fuck'm I doing talking? Ms. Sangria! Get'cha fine ass up here, love!"

And Harry grabs Luke's shoulders and the boys all start shaking him, yelling with the crowd as a young woman--the same young woman from Luke's phone (and probably his dreams), strolls casually up onstage in a crop top that cuts off right beneath her nipples, a high-waisted mini-skirt, and crazy heels slinks onstage and purses her full lips as she grins, flipping her hair and lifting the mic from the deejay's fingers.

"She's..." Luke's got his teeth clamped on his bottom lip.

He simply shakes his head. "Shit..."

Zayn had to agree: shit was right.

The crowd is going wild, and the deejay has the shut everyone up again so they could hear Ms. Sangria talk.

No matter how many times Desirée was in front of people, and no matter how many times she got up on this stage, she always felt a little sick.

When she first got to Phoenix, it was Blaire who helped her get over her shyness and stage fright. She told her something that stuck with her for the rest of her days. Blaire had taken her hand and squeezed it, right before she took her out onto the stage.

"We're all insecure about something, Desirée. The trick is to tell yourself that you're confident. Tell yourself you're sexy. Tell yourself that this is temporary. And," she had laughed, "take a drink...or like, three."

That had been her motto since then.

That was five years ago .

Desi stands onstage, tipsy off the Henny that Kezie and Rory and Asmaa had surprised her with before the club opened.

She's tipsy as hell, really. But, she's sexy. She's confident. It's her fucking birthday. And her friends have done a good-ass job tonight of making her feel special.

She takes a breath, just like she always did.

"Who's here ready to party?"

And the noise reverberating off the old hotel walls have her realizing just how many people are here tonight--how many people are here to see her.

She tries not to feel sick.

She tries to remember her sexiness and confidence.

And she gets through some speech she and Justin had planned for her to say and let's everyone know that the girls on the main stage got started in fifteen minutes.

And she was out.

Glad as shit that's over.

The deejay hits the music again, and she walks from the stage, Justin meeting her at the steps.

He takes her hand, helping her down.

"You know," he whispers in her ear, as she tries not to be annoyed with his hand resting so low on her waist as he helps her down, "you've got a private dance tonight."

"What?" She snaps. "I told you, tonight I wasn't doing--"

"I know, I know," he exclaims, "But, it's a guy here for his birthday. A big spender, too. His friends are pulling all the stops."

"Justin," she grits, "I fucking told you, I--"

"I wouldn'tve done it if it wasn't worth your while," he interjects, pausing behind the stage.

She runs her tongue over her teeth.

"Desi, his friend's are pulling all the stops," his hand falls from her waist--finally. "It's worth your while."

Justin's brown eyes are actually pretty serious, and so she groans, rolling her eyes with a, "Fine," that makes him smile.

"Table Three," he says, apparently talking about the guy--whoever requested the dance--who had her working on the night she specifically didn't feel like dealing with all the horny shits who felt like they couldn't remember rules and felt up on her.

Justin leaves her on the floor, and she realizes that time is counting down to the girls coming up onstage. And at the thought of her babies, she decides to remember her motto and try to enjoy her birthday again.

It was just one dance.

And because Desi's feeling light and sexy and confident and also nice, she sashays right up to the birthday boy's table. She's walking right up to Table Three.

Conversation stops. All eyes are on her.

She's sexy. She's confident. She stops at the table, hands on her hips.

"I heard someone's also celebrating a birthday."

The blonde gapes. "I--"

It's kind of cute.

"That," says his hot, curly-haired friend as he pushes him forward, "would be him."

Holy shit, these boys are tall.

"I--" The blonde gulps. "I really like your accent."

Desi's smirk falls into a smile. "Most people don't pick up on it," she laughs, "seems I've been here so long."

"I can hear it," the blonde replies, and Desi almost feels embarrassed--she's thankful it's so dark because she's blushing at this boy and her feelings only made more complicated by the sounds of his friends laughing behind his back.

"Well," she shakes her head, reassuming her confidence, her sexiness, her persona. "I guess I'll be seeing you later," she winks, "Yeah?"

Seems like this boy's about to pass out. "Yeah," he nods, licking his lips again. "I'm Luke, by the way."

And Desi turns, pausing as she makes her way down the few stairs separating their booths from the floor.

"Come again?"

"Name's Luke," he says, louder now to call over the music.

And Desi smirks, "Guess I'll be seeing you, Luke," before she turns and walks away.

It was time for her girls to take the stage.

Red and white lights start flashing overhead, as Ms. Sangria walks like a sex goddess away from the table.

"Holy--" Luke is still gaping. "She came--she just--she's so--"

"Real smooth, Luke," Michael laughs. "Fuckin' pathetic, mate."

Harry claps him on the back. "Oi, leave 'im alone."

"Yeah," Calum laughs. "It's his birthday, remember?"

"Yeah. Be nice to me on my birthday."

Ashton nods. "That's the rule."

"True," agrees Harry. "I made it up."

Zayn laughs--this was shaping up to be a great night.

"Hey!"

Niall brings them back to reality, pointing to the flashing lights and the three strippers walking into the main stage.

He's holding out a stack of money he'd pulled from his wallet "Let's go."

The boys turn, and because the tables are so close to the stages, they have a perfect view from here if they want to stay.

Literally, they didn't have to go anywhere. They could order food through the bottle girls. Their bottles kept coming. The strippers has them all entranced. Life was pretty much perfect. Things were seriously perfect. All they had to do was make it to one, when Luke got his dance.

"Oh hell," Ashton exclaims, following Niall to the floor.

"I want a close-up view."

"Get your money, Z," Luke exclaims before they follow the other boys from the table. "You can't stay here."

"M'not," he grins, grabbing his money. He came prepared. And he holds up a wad of notes and pretends to flick them in the air. Luke is laughing and Zayn grins in response.

He nods, "Let's go."

The deejay's switched the music, and the deep bass of Drake's "Make Me Proud" is thumping through the floor.

And that's when Zayn notices the screens overhead.

It's flashing names up, projecting images of the girls taking the stage for the club to see.

Stiletto Baby.

Indya.

Gold Starr.

And the girls are fully clothed as they begin to dance around the poles.

Until those articles slowly begin to come off.

And he's hollering and cheering with his mates and the other men and women gathered now around the main stage. Because more clothes come off.

And he's fixated on these women, because it was almost not fair how attractive all of these women were--are, especially this one, with honey colored skin and long black hair down her back. Her body is just...

Zayn squints.

These girls--these three--they seem...familiar.

And maybe it's the alcohol in his system, but something's telling Zayn that this is not the first time he's seeing these women.

He'd seen them, but where from? He'd seen these strippers before, and maybe it was the glare of the bright red lights, or the nakedness distracting him, but he was more than a little certain that they were more than just familiar faces.

"Zayn. Zayn," Harry jerks him from this revelry when he whispers, "Shit...Zayn..."

He blinks. "What?"

Harry clicks his teeth, "Kezie's here."

Asmaa was a bottle girl for three weeks and a stripper for one before she's thrust fully into Phoenix and has to work a main stage.

And despite the pep talk she got from all the girls beforehand, it's a different message replaying in her mind. It's her experience as a bottle girl getting her through.

A smile went a long way.

The friendliest were the best.

Now, she's got the bright lights of a main stage upon her and she's just tipsy enough to make this work. Desi was right: big spenders came out for the parties because the bills start flying fast.

No wonder Desi wanted them to work the main stage tonight. This kind of attention was sure to bring out the big spenders, big tippers.

On top of that, it's crowded--she can tell, despite the bright flashing lights in her eyes keeping her from making out anyone's faces.

By the time she's naked, and by the time she's slipped out of all of the clothes she bought with Desi, she decides to be bold and walk towards the edge of the stage--because Rory and Kezie could work the beams and the poles. She, on the other hand, was just not there yet.

She drops down, squatting as she twerks to the newest song playing. Fetty Wap has her actually feeling the beat, and she starts dancing to herself as the money flies and she opens her legs to the crowd.

That was one thing she had to get used to: her pussy being literally up in a stranger's face.

The money flies.

Asmaa can feel the notes raining across her body. She can feel lots and lots and lots of notes, but she's seen her friends before. She's seen the best of the best keep teasing and pleasing so there were more.

She stops twerking. And she pauses, and pushes out her ass, arching her back and covering her kitty with her fingers, tapping gently.

She can hear a, "Fuck," even over the music.

She feels more notes; more paper rain.

And she pushes it even further.

The friendliest were the best.

Her ass still in the air, boobs pressed to the stage, she rocks her hips to the bass of the rhythm, hand still tapping.

Slowly.

Slowly.

She's hanging off the edge of the stage, close enough to make out voices in the crowd.

"Oh, fuck."

"She likes you!"

"Make it rain, Z!"

And there's a lot of notes, now. Now, at this point, Asmaa's subconscious is getting the better of her. Now, she's playing games with some poor man's poor will and his exhaustible wallet, and so she pushes herself up, spreading her legs, wrists on her knees, and starts twerking again. There's laughter and whistles, and she makes eye contact with Kezie and Rory, who have both got looks of pride and admiration in their eyes as they work the pole and the opposite end of the stage because Asmaa can feel the feel of paper raining once again.

A smile goes a long way.

The friendliest were the best.

And with that in mind, this is how Asmaa makes a mistake.

She makes a huge, crucial mistake.

She throws a seductive look over her shoulder and she winks.

And she winks at dark eyes. And she catches sight of tattoos. And she quickly turns back around, rising suddenly from this part of the stage. And she hopes the look that flashed in those eyes was not mirroring her own realization.

And she prays to Allah that that was not Zayn.

But, just as she thinks that thought, there's a shout.

And Asmaa and Rory look across the stage at Kezie, who's all of a sudden backpedallig away from a a group of young men, all of them customers, and the Phoenix security grabbing them, arguing with them, and forcefully throwing them all out.

___

harry is my fave

and even though the story's about asmaa the boys are gonna have pov's a lot more after this mmk

comment and vote! <3