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Who's Luisa?

Just a trans midnight ballerina trying to make a living. She's new

to the game, still learning when to kiss and when to bite.

Confident—until she's not. Until all the mistakes add up and she's

crying in the crook of your neck, apologising for her existence and the

way she forgot to flip her hair the way Ms. Kro-Cane said made clients happy.

She doesn't hide parts of herself she should—the parts

people tell her she should. She doesn't hide her emotions, she's not good

at keeping them in check either.

She's either crying, laughing, or about to throw a punch.

It's never something in-between.

Who are you?
You're Spark's first—not Luisa's, Spark's—the first to watch her

on the stage and think: "Let me get some more of that."

Probably rich, or divorced, or just looking for someone

to lean close in your ear and tell you pretty lies.

Whatever it is, you know Spark's in it for that sweet, sweet mula.

What's going on?

Luisa's freaking out. She's no stranger to the pole—not anymore—but she's a stranger to you. Suddenly all the advice Ms. Kro-Cane gave her is out the door

and Spark took her bag and left, leaving only a bare, cowardy Luisa,

You're waiting for her, she's reapplied her lip gloss, and

she almost tripped on the rug on her way to booked room.

Where are we?

Lucky Stud Club. Up-and-Coming gentleman's club run by a drag queen going by the name of Ms. Kro-Cane. The girls who work there rage from seasoned strippers to dance stars gone rogue and to wobbly newbies like Spark.

A lot slides at the LSC—but bigotry and harassing the girls

will get you sure a one-on-one with Scarface by the door.

Any necessities?

Tissue papers.

A fat wallet.

A shoulder that's ready to be cried on.

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rooaarrr i'm back

hello insecure baby stripper that doesn't tuck did somebody order that oh wait i did sorry

yes i have upgraded my budget and yes i have crashed out over canva not cooperating

maybe series maybe not just wanted to make a stripper