*Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading everyone! Over 60,000 words in and it's all because of you guys motivating me to keep going. If you like this story, please vote!

I returned to my classroom this week and within two hours of setting foot in the school my throat started to hurt. I've been sick all week, so this chapter was edited while under the effects of NyQuil. ENJOY!
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Jean thought she would feel better once Shawn left, but as soon as he closed the door, she felt a million times worse. Part of her wanted to go and chase him, to tell him she was sorry, like she had always wanted Anthony to do when she left but he never did. Instead, she found her feet frozen in place until it was too late.

She sat on the couch and buried her face in her arms and she felt the tears roll down her cheeks. She knew it was for the best; Shawn and her would never last anyways. It was better to get things out of the way now before he hurt her or she hurt him.

She couldn't get herself to move and she eventually fell asleep. When she woke up, she remembered she had to work at Carmella's that night. It was the last thing she wanted to do; she felt terrible already. She knew she could always call off, as they used this weird point system, but she needed the money. Her hours were limited that week.

She took a shower to try to wake her up and quickly inhaled some food. She put on her fancy underwear, which she thought was stupid as nobody ever saw it. She decided to wear the black dress that Brooke had bought for her. She didn't know if it had always been that short or if it was shrinking in the wash.

She usually waited to change until she got there, but she wanted to just get in and get out. She threw a jacket on over the dress and headed out.

When she got to the club, she sat in her car and stared at the building. The neon sign outlined the silhouette of a curvy girl with her head thrown back. Jean couldn't help but laugh. This morning she was worried about what to wear to church, and now she was wearing a dress that barely covered her. She sat in the church wearing a high-necked blouse and pretended to understand what was going on. Who even was she? She was a hypocrite. A fraud. Here she was, working at a strip club but hiding it from the world because she was ashamed. She thought she was more moral than the girls who danced because she was "just waitressing." At least they had the confidence to know who they were.

She opened her glove box and saw the bottle of tequila was still in there from her first night. She had to take a shot just to have the confidence to go inside. Now, Jean grabbed the bottle and took a deep swig. She needed it to drown out the disgust she had for herself. It was going to be a long night and she need to get her fight with Shawn out of her head.

When Jean walked in, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a joke how dead it was inside. There wasn't anyone here, why was she even expected to be here?

Jean was there about 45 minutes before Brooke waved her over the bar.

"Sorry Jean, I might have to cut you soon," she said. "Didn't expect it to be this dead. I thought it might pick up."

Jean collapsed in the chair at the bar and saw that Donny and Matt were there, per usual.

"What's got you so down, Magic Jeanie?" Donny said teasingly. She didn't know if she loved or hated that she had a nickname around here now.

"Bad day at church," Jean said, knowing they wouldn't believe her. They laughed.

"Brooke, get this girl a double shot, on me."

Jean shook her head at Donny and looked at Brooke. "I'm working, Don."

"Were dead," Brooke said, pouring the shot. "What's the harm?"

"Best boss ever!" Matt said. "I need to get a job here."

The enthusiasm must have caught the attention of Donavan because he sauntered over. He leaned up against the bar next to Jean and looked at everyone. Jean inched away from him on her seat.

"Slow night," he said, and Jean threw back the shot. Her throat burned and her eyes instantly filled with tears. She grabbed Donny's water and drank from it while everyone laughed.

"What was that?" she said when she could finally speak again.

"Hey, I didn't know we were doing shots!" Donavan said.

"Not you, we actually need you," Brooke said. Jean made a face at her, truly a bit annoyed she wasn't called off before she made the drive out here.

She could feel it. Whatever Brooke gave her, it was intentional. It only took a few minutes for her to start feeling the effects of it. She twisted back and forth on her seat to the best of the music.

"Jean, you never told us what's getting you down," Matt said, seeing Jean was loosening up. He looked at her like she was the most comical thing. Jean laughed at his question.

"That right there," Jean said, pointing at him. "Everyone is trying to get me to talk about my problems. I don't like to talk about my problems!"

Donny had a huge smile on his face, showing his teeth that were yellowed from years of smoking. "Well I knew you were a dreamboat already, but dang, you really are the perfect woman."

Matt nodded. "I have to come here just to avoid my wife's problems." Jean noticed the wedding ring on his finger. She knew lots of married men came here, but it wasn't until this moment that she realized Matt was one of them.

"So Jean," Brooke said, changing the subject and glancing up past her head. "Now might be a good night to make your debut as a dancer."

Everyone started to cheer and Jean put her hands over her face. "No, no, no! I told you a million times I am not a stripper."

"Come on, Jean. Just for fun. There's like three people over there." Donavan said, nudging Jean with his elbow. She pulled her arm away and shook her head furiously.

Matt shrugged. "If I could dance and make money for it, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Yeah but nobody wants to see that," Donny said, sipping his beer.

Jean gripped her seat, as if they were going to drag her into the stage. "Right, and nobody wants to see this train wreck either."

Everyone protested, and if Jean was being honest with herself, she enjoyed the attention and everyone determine to see her do something. There was only a handful of times in her life that she could remember being surrounded by a group of people where the attention was on her.

She wondered what Shawn would do if he walked through the doors right now. The fear crossed her mind at least once every shift, but then she would calm herself down when she realized Shawn would never step foot in a place like this. She pulled out her phone under the bar and saw that he still hadn't tried reaching out to her. Maybe things really were over between them. He had finally saw her for what she really was. Although this was what she wanted, she couldn't help but feel uneasy.

"Do you guys think I'm worth fighting for?" Jean said. Did she just say that out loud? The alcohol was stronger than she anticipated. She muted the screen on her phone and put it back in her dress pocket.

"Are you changing the subject because you're trying to avoid the stage?" Brooke asked.

"No," Jean said, smiling. "In church today, they said everybody has a lie inside of them that they believe is true. And this morning, I thought my lie was that I'm not worth fighting for. But now I'm thinking that it's not a lie anymore. It's just the truth."

Everyone was silent, and Jean knew she was drunk and was certain she killed the mood. Matt was the first to speak.

"Jean, that is a lie. You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen and I'd fight for you until the day I die."

Jean didn't know how drunk his words were, or how much truth he was speaking, but she found herself smiling anyways.

"I'll drink to that!" Brooke said, raising her glass and everyone followed suit. When everyone cheered, Jean found tears threatening her eyes again.

"Now back to the subject!" Matt said, pointing to the stage. "I want to see you dance!"

Jean shook her head, but Donny pulled something out of his wallet that caught her eye.

"I've kept this hundred on me for the right moment," Donny said, holding up the bill. "And if you get on that stage, and say to hell with whatever is holding you back, it's all yours."

Jean looked at Donny and then to Brooke whose mouth was hung open. From the look on her face, she could tell that this was definitely out of the ordinary.

What was holding her back? Shawn? Feeling like she was too good for this place? She worked at a strip club but didn't want to fully commit. She went to church and pretended to be part of it. Today it became evident she didn't belong there, and now she would find out if she had what it takes to belong here too.

She stood up from her chair, the alcohol almost making her stumble.

"One song, and I'm not taking my clothes off."

Everyone leaped from where they were and cheered, and Brooke ran to the booth as fast as she could before Jean could change her mind. The lights went dim and she grabbed the microphone.

"Gentlemen, after much anticipation, please welcome to the stage for the very first time, The Magic Jeanie!"

The three men already by the stage raised their drinks in the air and shouted, and Jean doubled over in laughter at the use of her nickname. Brooke shrugged and used her hand to shoo her towards the stage. The crew followed her over, and even though the alcohol was making most of her movements, Jean still found herself nervous. The music was loud and the lights being turned off made it easier to move onto the stage. She couldn't help but laugh the entire time, but she tried her best to dance to the music through her laughter.

"Use the pole," Brooke said over the microphone, and Jean could see her cracking up laughing from the booth.

She had no idea what she was doing, but her eyes became fixed on the money that was being tossed on the stage. Did they really want to watch her that much that they were offering her their money? This was a joke.

With everyone cheering, it was easier to let loose and have some fun. She saw Matt and Donny laugh with her and she tried her best to navigate the stage.

When she was up there, Shawn crossed through her mind again. What would he think if he saw her right now? If he just knew?

She quickly pushed him out her mind. Shawn would never be here, because he didn't belong in a place like this. And she didn't belong with him.

The song was over before she knew it and the place erupted in cheers from the few people that were there. Matt started a chant with her name and Jean bowed as she collected the money and stepped off the stage.

Jean walked back to the bar with everyone and she counted her money there.

"I've worked here a long time," Brooke said. "And I can honestly say that I never made $125 in three minutes on a Sunday night."

It was an overwhelming amount, but Brooke also made it too big of a deal. She also doubted Donny would give her a hundred dollars again.

Jean started to drink water, knowing that she needed to drive home soon. As she sat at the bar, and as the alcohol started to fade, she began to think more and more about the line she just crossed. She had danced for money, and even if it was a joke to her, she couldn't deny that anymore.

She pulled her phone out to check the time, and she felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

Shawn had left a voicemail.

Her first thought was that he somehow knew what she had just done. Instinctively she looked around, but she knew he wasn't there.

The timing couldn't have been worse.

"You okay?" Donavan asked, probably from seeing the look of horror on her face.

Jean forced herself to smile, growing more nervous the more she thought about what the voicemail might say. Why couldn't Shawn just text like a normal human being?

"Yeah, I'm fine," she closed out her phone and put it back in her pocket.

"You looked amazing up there," he said. Suddenly, Jean wasn't so proud of herself.

She drank the water quickly, not being able to listen anymore to conversation. Maybe he was still angry and was just going off some more, but even with wishful thinking she knew that wasn't true.

When Jean sobered up, she said goodbye and couldn't get out of there fast enough. As much as she wanted to listen to the voicemail when she got in her car, she was smart enough to know not to sit alone in her car in a strip club parking lot.

When she got home, she ran into her apartment and locked the door. She sat on the couch and put the phone to her ear.

"Please be angry," she whispered, not knowing if she could make it through the guilt.

"Hey," Shawn's voice said, and then he paused. Dang it, he sounded calm. "I didn't like how this morning went. I'm sorry for losing my temper and leaving like that, and for taking this long to say anything..."

No, why did he have to be so good? Jean pressed her forehead into her knees on the couch, squeezing her eyes shut as she continued to listen.

"I just...I know when girls say they're fine, it means that they're not fine. Zeiler told me that. And I learned the hard way with Megan. Anyways, sorry, I'm probably not making any sense."

She felt the tears begin to slip from her eyes. He was making sense.

"I guess I just know something happened at church, and whatever it was, please know that...it's a lie. It's a lie that you don't belong there, that you don't belong with Jesus. Maybe that's weird for you to hear right now, but I pray for you every single day. I pray that one day you'll know that there's so much more to this life than what we see right now."

She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to make it through the voicemail. He prayed for her? Every single day?

"Anyways, I hope you're okay. Just know that I meant what I said earlier. I care about you Jeanette Teresa Arthur. I care about you a whole lot."

When it was over, she let the phone slide from her hand as she wiped her face. She couldn't hold the sobs within her. Why was he such a good person? Was he even capable of doing wrong?

She knew it was true. She didn't deserve Shawn Lewis, but either did the world.