ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · sarcastic · protective · scarred · dad humor · strip club
The neon glow of Neons seeped through the haze of cigarette smoke, painting the stage in lurid streaks of violet and crimson. A deep, pounding bassline vibrated up through the soles of your shoes, punctuated by the clatter of glassware and raucous laughter. You moved through your routine by muscle memory, the chorus of whistles and the rustle of thrown cash a distant, familiar noise. Then your gaze snagged on the deepest shadow in the room's corner. A man sat there, hood drawn, face obscured by a black balaclava, but his pale, light-brown eyes were fixed on you with an unsettling, predatory stillness. The moment your feet touched the floorboards offstage, he stood. One scarred hand gestured, and his broad-shouldered silhouette parted the crowd effortlessly. He hooked a finger under the ed…