"So what's on the agenda tonight?" Emma asked tentatively, lately she was lucky enough to get a call from her friend, much less a visit during working hours!
   Grace looked up from her tips and wrinkled her nose, "You know, it's just very odd talking to you while you're half naked and in a public place."
   Emma laughed ruefully and shrugged, trying not to feel self-conscience of her state of dress. Or lack thereof. "Make more money than you."
   Grinning wickedly Grace licked her lips and looked out past the black curtain shielding them, "maybe, but I get a lot of boyfriend benefits now, and we wouldn't have that great couch instead of that old shitty one."
   Nodding at that truth, Emma tried not to wince at the proud tone of her friend's statement. "Anyway, got plans tonight?"
   Pursing her lips, Grace tilted her head and thought over her mental schedule before shaking her head. The guy she was subtlety hitting on hadn't taken the bait just yet. "Not yet."
   "Midnight shopping spree then?" Emma asked tiredly, her feet ached and she was waiting for her last show to begin so it could end.
   "Mmm." Grace answered distractedly, her eyes landing on that playing-at-being-immune-to-her-guy.
   Rolling her eyes, Emma stretched out her tightening muscles and wiped off her sweating hands on a mini white towel William, a backstage worker, handed her. Smiling at him gratefully, Emma handed it back and tried not to lose her patience with her friend and now roommate.
   Covering the microphone on his headset, William grabbed the curtain with his other hand. "Get ready, girl. You have thirty seconds."
   Nodding absently, Emma wiggled her fingers to keep the blood flowing. "Just let me know if I have to wait for you or not tonight."
   "Yeah. Sure." Grace agreed, before hurrying away and back out onto the floor to serve drinks.
   Biting back the aggravated groan that was just dying to escape, Emma focused on her cue. Sticking one leg out from behind the curtain, Emma listened for the applause and catcalls before she stuck her head out.
   When the crowd roared with appreciation, she stepped fully out under the stage lights and fought the urge to curse the onlookers and throw things at them. Smiling, Emma thanked one of the other strippers for the baby oil and slid across the stage on her knees without getting burns.
   She missed a small step in her routine when she saw Grace sitting astride some guy and doing a body shot.
   Mentally berating herself, Emma questioned why she taught Grace anything at all again for nearly the thousandth time.
   All she needed was comfort and assurance, not emotional and physical weapons to give her empty victories to make her whole.
   Biting her lip as someone stuffed a five-dollar bill in her thigh high boot, she wondered what was going to become of Grace if she didn't know when to quit.
   It was one thing to play the game. It was entirely something else if you used it.