Feast their eyes on

Amber is still wearing the tight red dress from her performance. The clingy fabric hugs her curves, leaving very little to the imagination. The men's gazes linger on her body as they examine her, their eyes roaming up and down, taking her in. She can almost feel their stares on her skin, and she shivers involuntarily.

One of the men, a stocky man with a greying beard, speaks up, his voice low and gravelly.

"You're even more beautiful up close, my dear. That dress truly suits you. It accentuates your figure quite nicely."

Amber feels a shiver go down her spine at the man's words. She can see the hunger in his eyes, the desire. She forces a laugh, trying to keep her voice light.

"Thank you, sir. You flatter me."

The men chuckle, enjoying her polite response. The salt and pepper haired man leans forward, his gaze still traveling over her body.

"Sit with us, my dear. We'd love to get to know you better."

Amber feels trapped, stuck in this situation. She can't refuse without drawing suspicion. She takes a deep breath and smiles politely, trying to keep up her act.

"Of course, gentlemen. I'd be happy to join you."

She sits down on a plush armchair, feeling a little bit like she's walking into the lion's den.

The men smile at her with satisfaction, their gazes once again roaming over her body. The air is tense, charged with expectancy. The salt and pepper haired man leans closer to her, his voice low and smooth.

"We're enjoying our evening much more now that you're here, my dear."

Amber forces a small, gracious smile, her heart still racing in her chest. She can see the men studying her, their eyes tracing every curve and contour of her body. It's like being under a microscope, examined and appraised. She glances over at the doorway, wondering when she can get out of this situation. The man continues speaking, his voice almost a purr.

"You're quite talented, my dear. Your singing and dancing are truly mesmerizing."

The man's words are a mixture of praise and flirting, his gaze still fixated on her body. The other man, the one with the greying beard, leans in, his eyes roaming over her.

"Indeed, my dear. You're a real diamond. You sparkle on stage like a true star."

Amber tries to maintain her composure, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. She can hear the men's compliments, but their words are like knives to her heart. They don't care about her singing or dancing, not really. They only care about her body, about what they can get out of her presence. Her mind races, trying to find a way out of this situation. Then, the man with the greying beard speaks up again, his voice low and suggestive.

"You must be feeling rather warm in that dress, my dear. Why don't you loosen it a bit?"

Amber's heart skips a beat. She's shocked by the man's audacity, and she hates the way he's speaking to her. But she knows she has to tread carefully here. She forces a coy smile and shakes her head slightly.

"Oh, my dress is quite comfortable, thank you. I don't think I need to loosen it."

The man chuckles, enjoying her response.

"You're quite a minx, aren't you, my dear? But I think you'd be much more comfortable if you were... less encumbered."

The man's words are like a slap in the face. Amber feels anger starting to rise within her, but she forces it down, trying to maintain her composure. She's trapped in this situation and she knows it. The other man, the salt and pepper haired one, pipes up again, his voice smooth and velvety.

"Come now, my dear, don't be so shy. We just want to see more of your lovely skin. We'll pay you very handsomely for the privilege, I can promise you that."

Amber feels a wave of desperation sweep over her. There doesn't seem to be a way out of this situation, except... She fakes a small cough, placing her hand to her forehead.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry gentlemen, I'm suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. Excuse me for a moment."

She stands up, her hand still on her forehead, trying to appear weak and unsteady on her feet. The men look concerned, as if finally realizing she might be genuinely unwell.

The men exchange concerned glances, their earlier lust apparently forgotten in the face of her sudden illness. The salt and pepper haired man stands up, a frown on his face.

"My dear, are you alright? You look pale, and you're trembling."

Amber quickly stands up, her hand still shielding her forehead. She manages a weak smile, her voice shaky.

"I-I think I might have caught a cold. I just need some rest and medication. I'm sorry gentlemen, I must take my leave of you. Good evening."

She leaves the room before the men can say anything else, feeling a wave of relief wash over her as she disappears back into the main room of the club.

Amber stops in the middle of the hallway, leaning her back against the cool wall. She places a hand on her chest as if to calm her erratic beating heart. She feels exhausted, like she's run a marathon. Suddenly, she hears a deep voice behind her. She jumps slightly, startled, and turns around to see De-Martin standing there, a sly smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"That was quite an act, my dear."

De-Martin steps closer to her, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in her flushed cheeks and trembling frame. He smirks, clearly amused by her reaction.

"Quite impressive, I must say. You had those men eating out of the palm of your hand. That little act you put on, pretending to be unwell, it was quite convincing."

Amber takes a slow, deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She stares up at De-Martin, her voice trembling as she speaks.

"I-I just want to make a living. But I can't handle situations like this. I'm not used to being... pursued. I'm tired of people only seeing me for my body, like I'm some object to be bought and sold. Are you... are you like them? Are you here to use me?"

De-Martin looks down at her, his expression cold and distant. His voice is soft, but his words are harsh.

"What did you expect when you came to work at a place like this? To be tossed with flower petals? This is a bar, darling. It's not a place for gentle hearts and soft words. People come here looking for pleasure, to indulge their desires. And you, my dear, are just a pretty face they can feast their eyes on."