[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Km9lxvg.jpeg[/img][/center]
[center][color=8882be][indent][sub][I]The lights of The Velvet Vixen melted into blue and violet hues as the first notes of [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b92EKemUA4A&list=RDb92EKemUA4A&start_radio=1]"Sextape"[/url] rippled through the club. That slow, pulsing, beat. That haunting whisper of sound. The beat was slow. Sultry. Like someone whispering against your skin in the dark.

She stepped into the light.

Bare legs first, heels clicking softly like raindrops on glass. A black silk robe barely clung to her frame, open just enough to show the bare valley between her breasts and the subtle curve of her hip. Her skin shimmered under the lights like she’d just stepped out of a dream. She didn’t look at the crowd. Not really. She moved like she already owned every pair of eyes in the room, and that’s because she did.

She made it to the pole, turned once, slow and smooth, her hips circling in rhythm to the bass. Her hand slid up the steel, then her body followed. Legs parted as she climbed it, slow and deliberate, the robe slipping off her shoulders from one side, then the other.

"Floating on the water / Ever changing…"

She locked her thighs around the pole and held herself there, upside down, suspended like a work of art. Her back arched. Her mouth opened just enough to draw a gasp from someone behind me. She slid down slowly, inch by inch, until she hovered inches above the floor.

"Picture hours out from that, In tune with all our dreams…"

Then, she crawled. Hands flat, back dipped low, breasts swaying with every movement, toward the edge of the stage like a predator. She locked eyes with me. Me. As she brought one finger to her mouth and sucked it slowly, her tongue curling around the tip like she was testing the heat before devouring something raw.

"The ocean takes me / Into watch you shaking…"

And then that finger slid down her chest… between her breasts… over her stomach…

"Watch you weigh your powers / Tempt with hours of pleasure…"

Her eyes never left mine. She painted the moisture across her inner thigh, slow and unashamed, before cupping her chest, pressing them together like she wanted to trap all the tension building in the room.

"Take me one more time / Take me one more wave…"

She climbed the pole again, one leg extended high, hips grinding against the cold metal as if it were a lover. She let you imagine it. The music whispered around her like smoke:

"Take me for one last ride / I'm out of my head…"

By the end, she was sprawled across the stage, one hand between her thighs, the other trailing up her body as her back arched into a soft, soundless gasp. Her lips parted like she was just about to say something; your name, maybe, or a lie you’d want to believe.

"Tonight, tonight…"

She was the song. And I was drowning in her.[/I][/sub][/indent][/color][/center]

The man was still convulsing when they wheeled him out.

His face had gone pale, emptier. His lips were parted in a frozen moan, his pupils blown wide as if he’d stared straight into a god and couldn't come back from it. Jordan stood behind the velvet rope, one arm covering her chest, stage glitter still clinging to the sweat on her skin. The club had been cleared to a low murmur. The thumping music silenced. The red strobe lights faded into static gloom. Jordan watched as the paramedics pressed pads to his chest and whispered commands, the scent of alcohol and antiseptic mixing with the heat still rolling off her body. Her stage name echoed faintly through the space, ‘Divine’, like a cruel joke.

No one knew why he nearly died. But she did. She’d lost control. Midway through the final chorus of Sextape and meeting that man’s eyes, she'd pushed too far. She was heartbroken, hollowed out, and let her power spiral just a little. Just enough to tip the edge. She hadn’t meant to drown the poor man in pleasure so potent it short circuited his nervous system.

Yet here she was.

Backstage, the air was cold and sterile. The noise of the sirens had already faded into the city night. The other girls were quiet. Some watched her. Most didn’t. They were used to drama, but not this. Not the way Jordan just stood in front of her mirror, robe still open, eyes red but dry. Her makeup had smudged down one cheek. She sat at her vanity, hands shaking. Her reflection looked unfamiliar. Her gaze fell to the bottle. A deep violet glass, cork sealed with gold wax. the crude label written in Greek, but immediately understandable to her:

[color=8882be][indent][sub][I]“Drink this when you’re ready. -D”[/I][/sub][/indent][/color]

Jordan didn’t hesitate. With trembling fingers she unscrewed the cap, brought it to her lips, and drank the entire thing like it was nothing. The taste was of dark fruit and copper. Sweetness turned sour halfway down her throat. It burned, then cooled, and then [I]tingled[/I]. She stood gasping, breath caught in her chest, fingertips twitching as her entire world melted.

[color=8882be][I]The air rippled around her in waves of heat and ivy. The mirror cracked like ice. The bulbs exploded in blooming flowers. The concrete floor beneath her heels shifted, becoming cool snow.[/I][/color]

[hr]

As Jordan stood before the gates of Camp Athens, the world shimmered with contradiction. Snowflakes drifted lazily from a sky too soft for storms, while an invisible warmth pulsed from somewhere deep within the camp. The cold kissed her shoulders, but it didn't bite. She adjusted her stance, one heel crunching into the snow-laced stone path. Before stepping through the threshold, she paused at the reflection of herself in a patch of still water beneath the gate. The mirror was cast by melted snow. Her eyeliner had smudged beneath her lower lashes, mascara drying in faint streaks across her cheekbones, proof of a night she'd rather erase. She knelt, dipped two fingers into the icy pool, and wiped her face clean in one stroke, slow and precise.

Beyond the gate, Camp Athens came alive with laughter and distant music. A bonfire cracked and howled in the heart of it all. She stood just beyond the firelight, watching the others drinking in joy, lust, and power. No one noticed her yet. She was glad, as she took in the casual clothing of most of the campers. Jordan was now happy for her last minute change out of her stage costume, or lack thereof rather. She wore a black halter dress, backless and cut to tease every inch of the eye. The front was a cascade of black feather-like velvet, wild and unruly, climbing over her chest. The texture shimmered with movement, brushing against her as if it were alive. Below the waist, the dress hugged her hips sculpting her silhouette. The edges of her long dark hair shimmered faintly in the magical warmth, strands catching light from the bonfire.

That’s when she saw [I]him[/I]. Still walking like he carried the world’s sins in his pockets. Jordan watched as the girl approached him at the bar, all legs and laughter. She was bold, teasing, confident in the way only someone who hadn’t yet been burned by Ace could be. Jordan didn’t flinch, even when Blair pressed in close enough to brush her lips across his. Salt, shot, citrus. Lips, tongue, teeth. The ache in her chest was familiar, dull but manageable. She’d already drowned in it once. She wouldn’t do it again. Let him fall into the same old patterns. Let him kiss girls he’d never call back. Let him mistake distraction for healing. Jordan had offered him her truth back in that alley, the hope in her heart. Her goodbye. And he’d walked away. It was no longer her burden to carry. Ace was a storm. Beautiful, wild, but destructive. But, Jordan was tired of getting caught in the rain. 

The warmth of the magical fire kissed her skin as she passed it, weaving deeper into the throng of the party. With Ace and Blair swallowed by the crowd and out of sight, Jordan finally allowed herself to exhale. She wasn’t going to make tonight about old wounds, or ghosts. She moved with confidence toward the bar, ready to lose herself in the clinking of glasses, the murmur of strangers, and the sharp bite of a well earned drink. For the first time in a long while, she was here to enjoy a night on her own terms.