Ceebee always imagined show business life to be a little more glamorous. She looks around the low lit rectangle dressing room for a sign Isaac is returning.

‘Wait here,’ he’d said, ‘I’ll be back to grab you after my act.’

That was at least thirty minutes ago. She’d already heard oohing and cheering every time Isaac did something on stage. There was thunderous applause and more cheering as his act climaxed, and then a series of dance songs. Is something wrong?

A door that leads to the backstage area opens and a thin, boyish looking empty glass collector enters and closes the door behind him.

‘Have you seen Isaac?’ Ceebee says.

‘Ooh yes, isn't he lovely.’ The glassie is collecting empty drinks left in the change room.

‘No, I mean tonight—do you know where he is now?’

‘He was just on, did you see his performance?’

‘I’ve seen it before. Do you know where he went?’

‘He always slips out after his act—would you like me to find him for you?’

‘He told me to wait for him here.’

‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll remember, he’s pretty reliable, give it a couple of minutes.’

Ceebee looks at her phone and considers turning it on. The glass collector opens the door they entered and the volume of the music beyond increases.

‘If I see him I’ll let him know you're still waiting.’ The glassie says as the door closes.

‘Thanks,’ says Ceebee.

She’s contemplating unplugging one of the hair dryers from one of the make up mirrors, but remembers Isaac’s instructions not to touch anything.

The club goes silent for a moment and then there’s some sort of fanfare music and then the sounds of the MC jeering up the crowd. The backstage door opens, and this time the figure, although hidden completely in a two piece tracksuit with a hoodie, could only be one person.

‘Where have you been?’

‘Sorry, some drunk Hen spilt Ouzo all over my “Conan the Barbarian” costume, so I nipped back to my suite and got changed. I sent you a text. Did you get it?’

‘I was just about to check my messages, but I only have a small amount of battery left.’

‘OK, well I’m here now, let’s sneak out while Lee performs, unless you want to watch his act?’

‘I’ve seen Lee take off his clothes more than enough times, thanks, I’m sure he thinks my bathroom floor’s a stage.’

‘OK, then follow me. Don’t stop for anything. Hold onto the back of my jacket and don’t let go.’

Isaac pulls his hoodie over his head and opens the backstage door. He heads along the first set of curtains separating the stage area towards the DJ booth. He pokes his head around the curtain where the DJ is sitting behind the booth controlling the buttons and sliders of his console.

‘I’m heading off, see you next week,’ Isaac says.

‘Great show, mate,’ the DJ says, handing Isaac a white envelope with his name on it.

Isaac opens the envelope at the top, and counts the stack of money inside quickly.

‘Thanks,’ says Isaac, and pulls his head back to the backstage area. ‘C’mon,’ he says to Ceebee. ‘This way.’

They clamber down a flight of stairs and go through a door marked “Staff Only”.

‘This is where they take the dead people,’ Isaac says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘When people have a bad night at the casino, sometimes they don’t make it out alive.’

‘What, murdered?’

‘Mostly suicide… There’s a whole series of secret passages to allow people to do things discreetly.’

Piling down a couple of flights of stairs, Isaac opens a door marked “Level One” and they find themselves near the ATMs on the first floor.

‘Wait here while I deposit some money,’ Isaac says.

‘Deposit!’ Ceebee had never used an ATM to deposit money.

‘How else am I gonna get my wages into my bank account?’

‘By going to a bank?’

‘Take a look at me Ceebs, I can’t go into public spaces without causing a commotion. It’s easier for me to do this.’

Isaac transfers some of the cash to a new envelope and drops it into a chute on the ATM. He tucks the rest of the cash inside his jacket, in some sort of travel pouch. ‘Can never be too safe when you're travelling, Ceebs.’

‘Is that it?’

‘Yeah, let’s grab a hot chocolate.’

The waiter’s eyes light up when Isaac enters the restaurant.

‘Aftershow hot choccie?’ the waiter says.

‘You know you’d like some too.’ Isaac flirts at the waiter who almost melts.

Ceebee feels like a little girl next to Isaac. She craves a smoke, but knows better than to even mention cigarettes to him. The waiter ushers them into a booth at the back of the restaurant, which doesn’t say VIP, but seems pretty exclusive.

‘For you, hot chocolate,’ the waiter flirts back. ‘And what are you having?’ The waiter and Isaac both stare down at Ceebee.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

‘I’ll have a hot chocolate as well,’ she says.

The waiter disappears. Isaac occupies most of the seat on his side of the booth. He pulls out his phone from his jacket and checks for messages. He reaches under his seat and grabs a cable to plug into his phone.

‘How did you know that was there?’

‘I put it there.’ Isaac motions his head towards the kitchen. ‘I give the staff tickets to the show whenever they ask for it, and they look after my stuff.’ Behind him, through the service window, a couple of kitchen hands are glancing in his direction and giggling. ‘One day they’ll make cell phones that you don't have to charge all the time.’

Ceebee laughs. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘I have to keep it on in case there are any last minute gigs.’

‘What, now?’

‘Anytime really. If the money is right and the conditions are safe, I’ll work as much as I can.’

‘What, and just strip?’

‘Mostly,’ he says.

‘What else do you do?’

‘Well, sometimes, some people, normal people, ordinary people…’

‘Yeah?’ says Ceebee.

‘Well, they just want to try something different.’

‘Like sex?’

‘Sometimes they just wanna see what’s under the costume.’

Is he being serious? ‘You're a male prostitute?’

‘No, I only do jobs I want, not sex. Unless it’s someone I’d have slept with for nothing anyway, which happens sometimes.’

Ceebee is intrigued by Isaacs life. ‘So, it’s not all the high life of casino shows.’

‘Well, the casino is hardly the height of artistic venues, but it pays well, and I only have so many years before everyone’s sick of seeing my dick.’

Ceebee laughs.

The waiter appears with two long, cone-shaped glasses filled with hot chocolate. ‘I can’t see that happening.’

Isaac rolls his eyes at Ceebee and then smiles back at the waiter. ‘That’s nice of you to say.’

The waiter disappears back into the restaurant, clearly blushing. Isaac takes a sip of his drink and Ceebee reads the menu.

‘We’ve got about thirty minutes before we’ll need to go rescue Lee. He has to stick around for the grand finale.’ Isaac takes a sip of his drink. ‘So what’s going on with you two anyway?’

Ceebee screws up her nose a little. ‘Oh, you know…’

‘So, you're in a relationship?’

‘Not really.’

‘You’re dating?’

‘Hmm, sort of.’

‘But you are sleeping with each other?’

‘Only a couple of times a week. It’s more like friends with benefits. You know, just scratching each other's itch.’

‘Honey, if you’re fucking someone a couple of times a week, that’s called a relationship.’

‘Look, Lee is lovely, but he’s a bit flaky, and I can’t be baby-sitting anyone.’

‘Well don’t be too hard on him, he’s got a lot of shit he’s still taking care of.’

‘We don’t talk much about that to be honest.’ Ceebee sips her chocolate and licks her lips. ‘I know he came down from Sydney to strip in your show.’

‘It’s not my show, I just work there.’

‘You know what I mean, you are the star.’

‘I have to ride it while I can. I’ve been broke, and I don’t wanna go back there.’

‘You should have your own show.’

‘I’ve thought about it.’

‘I’ve been watching how it all works, it’s really smart. You only get the acts in when you need them, so they only get paid for the gig. If they miss the gig, no pay.’

‘Sometimes you do the gig and still get no pay.’

‘That wouldn’t happen if you were running the show.’

Isaac scoffs. ‘I’m not sure I’m cut out for management.’

‘Get someone else to do it for you. Honestly, you should stay focussed on bringing in the cash. Who would you have in your show?’

‘Hmm, definitely Lee.’ Ceebee raises her eyebrows. ‘I know he seems a bit flaky to you, but remember, he works that stupid tech support job he hates as well.’

‘So? Even with two jobs he’s always broke.’

‘Well, Melbourne ain't cheap and I know, like me, he’s sending money to his folks back home. Besides, he’s just starting in the industry. He gets paid OK, but he’d still need to do two jobs anyway.’

Ceebee finishes her chocolate and scoops the cream with a spoon from the bottom of her cup.

‘Did he tell you he’s a musician?’

‘Like a singer?’

‘No, he plays the horn, or the saxophone, one of those brass instruments.’ Isaac checks his phone and then places it on the table still plugged in. ‘He’s pretty good, have you heard him play?’

‘No, we never really talked about it. He’s kinda introverted.’

‘He was classically trained, but something happened, and he dropped out of school and started working. I think it’s something to do with his family.’

‘He doesn't talk much about his family either.’

‘So what do you guys talk about?’

‘Hmm, we don’t really talk that much. He’s really nice, but like I said, he’s kinda flaky. I have too much going on for a serious relationship with a muso who strips for a living.’

‘You could do worse.’

‘Try telling my mum that. Besides, I can’t afford to fuck up my career.’

‘What, working for Max?’

‘What have you got against Max anyway? He is kind of a genius in his own way.’

Isaac rolls his eyes. ‘You mean he’s a genius for being born white, and male, and growing up in Australia?’

Ceebee looks up at him sceptically. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I mean seriously, Ceebs. Take a look around, you’re not even white, what are you half-asian or something?’ Ceebee sighs. ‘I’m not saying Max is a bad guy. I’m just saying that if he was black, he wouldn’t be the one writing the cheques.’

Ceebee isnt used to having these conversations. ‘Well, Max is very successful?’

‘Is he? Really?’

‘Well, he’s gonna be. Once we take over HAP, or whatever it is he’s doing.’

‘Look, Ceebs. I don’t blame Max. He really doesn't know any better. But the next time I hear someone calling another rich white dude a genius for convincing other stupid white people to give them their money….’ Isaac fakes poking himself in the eye with the spoon from his hot chocolate. ‘Some things are best left unsaid,’ he says. ‘So, have you and Max ever…?’

Ceebee pauses. ‘It’s not like that. He’s more of a business mentor.’

‘Ceebs, you do know that the reason you have your job is because you’re cute and you make Max look good?’

‘Jesus, Isaac! I work hard.’

‘I'm sure you do, but, let’s face it. Most of the time you’re just waiting on Max.’

Ceebee licks her spoon. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I need to stay focused on work and Lee is a… distraction.’

Isaac tugs the spoon out of her hand and drops it in the empty glass. ‘I think you can do better Ceebs. Max is taking care of Max, don’t get caught up in his bullshit.’

‘Now you sound like my mum.’

‘Well maybe you should listen to her.’

Cebee laughs out loud. ‘Clearly you haven't met my mum!’

‘Bring her to a show.’ Ceebee laughs harder. ‘I can get you VIP tickets anytime.’

Ceebee holds Isaac's huge hand with both of hers. ‘She’d hate that. You’re lovely Isaac, thank you.’

Isaac squeezes gently. He checks his phone with his other hand.

‘Work?’ Ceebee says.

‘Maybe, it’s a message from my answering service. I’ll call them tomorrow.’

‘I like the way you work. Max reckons we’ll all work virtually and asynchronously one day.’

Isaac looks perplexed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘He says that the idea of going to an office for forty hours a week to do work is outdated. He reckons the Internet’s changing everything.’

‘It already has. I wouldn’t even be in Australia if it weren't for the Internet and ICQ.’

‘Oh! What’s your ICQ number? We should connect.’

‘I’m not sure, I don’t use it much. I can barely email. I prefer real human interaction.’

Isaac checks his phone and frowns. ‘Nothing from Lee, but his show’s well done.’

‘Should we go rescue him? Maybe someone’s got some Ouzo for his costume.’

Isaac laughs, already standing up. ‘Yeah, come on.’