Chapter 133: Porn Stars are Still Stars

[Chapter 133: Porn Stars are Still Stars]

"The World's Weirdest Nightclub - Bad Room."

"The Hottest Singer and His Unbelievable Business Moves."

"The Only Nightclub Owner in the World Who Complains About Too Much Money."

After Bad Room announced its new no-entry policies and started conducting double-testing on all patrons, local newspapers in Florida were filled with sarcastic headlines.

After all, it was clear as day; although the entertainment scene was frowned upon in Florida, just walking down "Church Street" in Orlando, one could smell the pungent odor wafting from the entrance of the nightclub, even without stepping inside.

"Since the double-testing rule was imposed, the daily foot traffic has dropped by 50 percent. The maximum number of guests in the club at once has decreased by a thousand," Sean said seriously.

"Isn't that better? The capacity is set at 1500; having too many people could create safety risks," Ryan replied, nodding, not seeing this as a bad thing at all.

Sure, having lots of people meant more money, but if there was ever a crowd control issue...

Now, there was a security checkpoint at the entrance, along with a manual metal detector. Because the manual checks took too long during peak hours, an X-ray machine had also been added, making the security procedures almost as intense as at an airport.

In free-spirited America, one had to be careful, careful, careful, or this business would not stand the test of time. Competitors could easily throw a wrench into things; Ryan knew he couldn't let that happen.

"But still, ever since the double-testing began, there hasn't been a single fight incident in the club. Arguments have decreased as well, and the number of young female patrons has noticeably increased. These women often come in groups without male companions, probably feeling it's a safer atmosphere," Sean continued.

Ryan snapped his fingers, realizing that the double-testing could create an environment that set them apart from other nightclubs, which was more than enough.

"If we've lost a chunk of our regular crowd, then we need to ramp up our advertising. This time, we must promote in all the surrounding cities and offer a limited-time discount on tickets for one week."

To maintain a long-term buzz, constant new events had to be rolled out to keep things fresh for patrons.

Sean nodded. "As long as we confirm the lineup of guests, the advertising will quickly follow suit."

...

Ryan made a call to Mary on the spot.

"Is everything confirmed? Awesome! Just like that, have them come over ASAP. I'll sort out their round-trip tickets and accommodations; just send the list to Sean's and my email." Ryan hung up.

...

"Treat them just like any regular DJ guests. Don't put them in a shoddy hotel," Ryan said. They could scrimp on pay, but when it came to treatment, they had to spend right.

Porn stars were still stars; Ryan was seriously treating them as "guest performers."

Would this be a bit excessive? Sean thought that it might be a bit too generous, but since it was the boss's request, he didn't argue and left.

...

Since World War II, a type of magazine had emerged in the US, with titles like Playboy, Penthouse, Susie, Leg Show, Cherry, and Swank, all sharing similarities in their edgy humor and illustrations. A whole industry of "photo models" existed around these magazines, supposedly a type of print model, with dedicated scout companies to discover and introduce them to publishers, taking photos before hopping to the next magazine. Very few ever put their clothes back on; most lived in the gray area, gradually fading away as they aged out of the industry.

During the heyday of Playboy in the 1970s, its status was even higher than GQ's today. They had a full roster of Playmates, with monthly and annual contests that were once the talk of the town. However, with the rise of the internet, magazine sales plummeted, and these women's situations became increasingly awkward, like workers in a sunset industry, uncertain of their future. While they might still find ways to make money, such as transitioning into video, it didn't compare to the glory their predecessors enjoyed.

On his flight to Los Angeles, Ryan flipped through these magazines and had a lightbulb moment. Some of the women in them were still somewhat well-known online; most importantly, they were glamorous, outgoing, and their appearance fees weren't too high, making them suitable for bulk recruiting.

Ryan checked through a list and was surprised to see that many had become regulars in these magazines, with several being top-tier or monthly Playmates. This far exceeded his expectations, especially since he offered a low appearance fee; their willingness to show up indicated that the decline of traditional media was even faster than he had imagined.

Rather than him needing them, it seemed they were the ones who needed him!

...

Los Angeles, Airport.

Tyran Richard boarded the plane only to find a crowd of familiar faces already seated.

"You're going to Florida too?" Tyran exclaimed in surprise, waving to a few people. Among them was a standout woman with long, straight blonde hair who looked like a slightly younger version of Paris Hilton. Her name was Sarah Jane Underwood, last year's Playboy Playmate of the Year, although she didn't acknowledge Tyran.

So lavish; how much must this all cost with so many people in business class? Tyran was taken aback, though the airline would give discounts for bulk ticket purchases, making the cost not much different from economy class.

After a long flight, the women landed in Orlando and attracted a considerable amount of attention with their alluring looks and sexy outfits.

...

Waiting outside the airport was a swanky charter bus for the group.

"This is what you'll be doing," said a staff member from Bad Room as they handed out "work manuals."

Tyran, sitting in the front row, flipped through the booklet and was relieved to find nothing outrageous inside; it just outlined some simple dance routines. They would actually be standing for longer than they would be dancing. Of course, wearing revealing clothing was a must.

"Our boss is just worried you might get tired, and the workload isn't too intense," the staff member added.

That star? Tyran recalled something and thought this young guy seemed somewhat considerate.

"And after your shift, what you do is your own business," the staff member continued.

A cheer erupted from the back. Tyran didn't show much reaction. Before heading to the nightclub, they dropped off their luggage at the hotel for a week-long event.

...

"We're staying here?" Tyran couldn't believe it as she got off the bus.

In past similar events, accommodations were poor, and there'd be harassment from men in the middle of the night.

"You aren't mistaken; the boss is typically quite generous," the staff member said.

After a quick touch-up in the room, Tyran began to put on her makeup, changed into a sexy outfit, and topped it off with a jacket and six-inch heels before heading downstairs to gather.

They boarded the same bus, and when they arrived at their destination, Tyran was once again blown away.

...

The nightclub took over the entire "castle"? This was quite the eye-opener!

What astonished her even more were the luxury cars parked outside and the sea of people lined up, resembling some grand convention.

"I bet they earn a fortune in one night. Is this all they pay us?" Tyran caught Sarah Underwood complaining nearby.

"Just making any money is a win."

"Exactly, the pay isn't terrible; you should keep quiet," others chimed in.

Tyran started to think the boss was a nice person after all.

"What's that?" Tyran asked, pointing to a line of people waiting at the side.

"That's for the drug testing. If anyone tests positive, they get turned away," the staff member explained.

"Oh my god," Tyran gasped. She never thought there would be a nightclub daring to try something like this; it was truly one of a kind.

Making that decision must have taken significant pressure.

...

After entering through the back door, Tyran was soon directed to stand at the edge of the DJ booth, with security guards nearby, a clear arrangement from the boss.

That was quite considerate.

After dancing for about an hour, Tyran finally saw the boss in the spotlight, igniting cheers from the crowd.

"Holy cow! He's so handsome!"

"He's said to be a former model."

"If he asked me to spend the night with him, I'd definitely say yes."

"Dream on; he's Taylor's boyfriend. He's not lacking in women around him."

Amid the flickering laser lights, Tyran heard nearby girls gossiping, and for a moment, many forgot their work, herself included.

Though the decor wasn't opulent, the ambiance was fantastic, and compared to other nightclubs, the air felt certainly "fresher."

Ryan's features were unclear from where she stood, but at that moment, Tyran felt he was indeed the king of this pleasure-filled world. His songs weren't half bad either.

Talented, good at business, a bit individualistic, and most importantly, he was still so young, not even twenty; Tyran figured she'd probably never meet anyone like him in her life.

She found herself entranced by his figure, and just then, the young man looked up, seemingly locking eyes with her. Tyran couldn't be sure, but she heard others nearby exclaiming, "Ryan looked at me!"

Shortly after Ryan left the DJ booth, the suited nightclub manager approached Tyran and whispered, "The boss wants to see you alone."

What? Tyran couldn't believe her ears.

*****

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