I waded back to the bar, receiving a cocked eyebrow from Ray. "Purple, huh?"

"Yeah, it was the only one that fit. Will said it suits me."

"........well shit, it does. Freaky."

We got back into the groove surprisingly quick, even better in sync this time. It was like the ugly hoodie was a good luck charm, because I was on like fucking Donkey Kong after that. I even felt comfortable enough to do a bottle spin or two, much to the delight of the glitter-encrusted New York bar skanks that seemed to have taken a liking to me.

"Damn, the hoes be loving the Saporta tonight, aren't they?"

I turned around and nearly squealed. "Travis, my man, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Pete called me up and said you needed moral support for your first night on the job," Trav chuckled as he leaned over the bar to give me a bro hug. "I guess this was an instance where he didn't know what the fuck he was talking about, huh?"

"Please, Pete rarely knows what the fuck he's talking about."

"I resent that, you big greasy bastard," Pete huffed as he joined us, hopping up to sit on the bar again but not quite making it.

"Fuck, you are a tiny little person, Wentz," Travis laughed, helping him up.

"Go to Hell, you jolly brown giant, Beckett's up to bat and I want a good view. He said he's got a new trick he wants to try out tonight, and if he screws it up, it'll be classic."

"Such love for your employees."

"Nothing but."

The lights went down again as William took the stage, his outfit bringing to mind one of those gothic pixie posters they sell at Hot Topic. Tonight's musical selection was Soft Cell, and indeed, he was the perfect picture of tainted love, green-tinted lips curled into a grin worthy of the Joker as he twirled around the pole.

"Goddamn..." Travie muttered in consideration. "If I swung that way, I'd make that guy my bride."

Pete snorted into his bottle. "That is the funniest fucking thing you've ever said."

"I'm serious, man! If Beckett was a girl, I'd be offering to be his sugar daddy and get him off that pole. Moving your hips like that takes talent."

The three of us plunged into stunned silence as we took in the sudden sight on Will hanging upside down, legs wrapped tight around the pole to keep him from falling. Will crossed his arms under his head with a smug smile before faking a bored yawn and cartwheeling to his feet.

"...fuckin' diva showoff..." Gerard had wandered up to the bar, Frankie in tow, and was now glowering at the stage.

Frankie pouted and gave his boyfriend a shove. "Be nice, you big grump, you're just jealous."

"I could probably do that," Pete noted to himself, nodding in consideration. "I might just have to try that later."

"Careful, man, Patrick might have a heart attack if he sees you dancing like that."

"How do you think I got him in the first place?" Chuckling at our stares, Pete hopped off the bar. "Don't look so surprised, kiddies. Every Biggie needs a L'il Kim." Cringing at the way he strutted off into the crowd, I shook my head at the others and set back to work.