Individual Attention

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You decide to take a trip to the Lunar Lure, but seem to be having a little trouble getting into the mindset. Thankfully, the staff are very attentive, and know just the thing to get you in the right headspace.

Starring Mattswolf!


"First time?" The bartender asked.

You flinched, and turned on the stool to face a friendly-looking blue dog with a knowing smile. You nodded, trying to regain some of your confidence.

"It can be a little overwhelming." He said, laughing with mirth and leaning over the bar. "If you want to slip into a back room for some quiet, let me or one of my staff know. They'll help you out."

You swallowed and brought yourself back into focus.

You had heard stories about this place. Rumors. Fantasies, even.

"It brings everything out. You lose yourself in it." Your friend had told you, urging you to come and try it for yourself. "You deserve a break." He had tried to tell you.

It had sounded nice. A break from everything. An escape even. Losing yourself.

But now that you were here, you were back to your stubborn mindset, your frustration. It was just a club. A bar with waiters in skimpy outfits and a dance floor.

The bartender was looking at you, scratching his chin, with that same, knowing smile.

"You know what? I think you could use some back room time." He said.

You were taken aback. "Why?"

"I take care of all of my customers, and I want you to have a good time. You strike me as the sort that needs some... individual attention." He explained casually, stepping out from behind the door and whistling for a waiter to take his place. One quickly hurried over, mouth slightly agape and drooling, and without skipping a beat, the bartender pushed his chin up, closing his mouth and making him smile dumbly.

The staff certainly seemed to love the place, at least.

"Individual attention how?" You asked, following behind him as he pushed his way through a door labeled "STAFF ONLY", and began leading you down a narrow hallway lined with doors. Private rooms, you suspected, for VIPs or staff.

Your suspicions were validated as the bartender ducked into one, a cozy-looking lounge room with a couch wrapped around a table.

"I've seen your type before." He replied, still smiling. "You come here to relax, but you don't let yourself. I know just how to help with that."

"I'm not into drugs." You quickly replied, getting a laugh out of your canine host.

"Nothing like that. Take a seat."

You hesitated, and then did. He sat across from you, crossing a leg and leaning back into the soft couch.

"What I'm offering is just a little exercise to get you to relax and let go for the night." He suddenly perked up. "Oh! What do you say we make a game of it, then?"

"How do you mean?"

"How about - if I can't get you to loosen up in say, 10 minutes?" He thought for a while. "Let's make it 15, for my sake. If you're still not ready to hit the dance floor in 15 minutes, your tab is free tonight."

That was suspicious.

"Why?" You asked, trying to make it obvious just how suspicious you were of this offer.

"Think of it like this: if I can't get you to go out and let loose on the dance floor, the least I can do, as owner of this place, is to make sure you get good and drunk."

You raised an eyebrow.

"It's a win-win. Come on, then. Deal? Can I set my watch?" He asked, fishing a silver pocketwatch from his vest and swinging it from its chain.

"Fine. Deal." You said. He seemed friendly enough, but you really doubted that chatting in a back room for 15 minutes was going to make you want to dance in front of a crowd.

He smiled a knowing smile, and lifted his watch in front of your eyes.

"See the time?"

You read it. 8:42.

"So at 8:57, your bar tab will be free." He said. You nodded, and he set it on the table.

"But until then, I want you to relax. Tell me how you're feeling." He said, leaning forward and watching you with that same, knowing smile.

You thought about it, but before you could think of a reply, he kept talking.

"It's nice and quiet back here, isn't it?"

The silence suddenly became quite obvious to you. You were amazed you hadn't noticed it before. The only sounds in the room were your breathing, his breathing, and the quiet ticking of his watch on the table. Distantly, you could hear the steady thumping of bass from the dance floor, but it was muted, and less pronounced than even the ticking of the watch.

"All these rooms are soundproofed. Nice and quiet. Nice and relaxing."

It was true. Kind of amazing, really. You really couldn't hear anything except the sounds of the room and the distant rumble of bass.

"Can you hear my watch?" He asked.

You nodded.

"Good ears on you." He said, his smile widening slightly. "Focus on that for me. Relax yourself, listen to the way it matches your heartbeat."

You grunted and he chuckled.

"You're holding yourself up, you know that?" He said, and you glanced down at his watch. Two minutes had already passed.

"Hmm, what do you mean?" You asked, feeling a little sleepy all of a sudden.

"I can see it. I told you, I know your type. You do want this, don't you?" He said, and you stirred slightly, squirming in your seat. "You want to relax, let yourself go, but you're holding yourself up. Not letting yourself fall into it."

You thought about it. You didn't want to believe it, really. You were stubborn like that. But... it did make sense.

You glanced down at his watch. Three minutes.

"You just need permission. You're here, you want to let go, you need to. You've been holding yourself up for a while. I can see how tense you are." He said, leaning forward. He was oddly close to you, and you realized that you were leaning forward too. You leaned back once more, and you swear in the quiet of the room you heard him chuckle again.

"You just need permission." He repeated, and you nodded without realizing it. You were still listening to the watch, you realized. Counting the seconds in your head, but your count never made it past 12 before you found yourself losing it and starting over.

"You just need permission." He repeated.

"I just need permission." You repeated.

He smiled.

You were leaning forward again, and your head felt heavy. He reached a hand out, and cupped under your chin, and you sighed. He smiled at you, as you looked into his eyes for a few seconds, before glancing down to his watch.

"You keep looking at my watch." He said.

"Sorry." You mumbled.

"It's okay! It's a lovely little instrument, isn't it?" He said, reaching his other hand down and picking it up off the table. He held it by its chain and brought it up in front of your eyes, still keeping his hand under your chin. You were dimly aware of just how much you were leaning on his hand, and quickly straightened your back a little more to stop embarrassing yourself.

He didn't mention it, keeping his hand in place, very lightly supporting your head, as he began to swing the watch in front of your face, letting it twist in the air so you could see all the intricate little engravings and decorations it bore. It was a beauty, undeniably.

Even more undeniable was the sound it was making. Hanging just in front of your face the way it was, you no longer had to strain to focus on the ticking of the watch, nor was it in the background. It was foreground noise now, ticking in the silent room, as your eyes lazily watched it swaying in front of you.

"You just need permission." He said once more.

"Mhm."

"Permission to let go. To leave yourself behind and have a good time. It doesn't have to be long." He said, as you sighed onto his wrist. "It can just be for tonight. You need to give yourself that permission. Or... you can get it from me."

Permission. To let go. That's all you needed.

"Stop holding yourself up." He said, as the watch ticked into your ears. Into your mind.

"Leave yourself here, in this room. Don't worry about anything. Leave it all behind. Lose it for the night."

"Okay." You mumbled, as he kept talking.

"Give yourself permission. I'm giving you permission."

Permission to let go.

"Permission to drop." He said.

He slid his fingers out from under your chin, and your head dropped down fast.

You felt a sudden rush, the feeling of falling, a tingling sensation all over your body as your heartrate picked back up for just a few seconds.

You were surprised, suddenly looking down at the floor, completely slumped forward. You must have been putting all of your weight on his hand.

And the realization made you sink right back down to where you were. Feeling good again. Feeling even deeper than before.

"Feeling lighter, now?" He asked, and looked up at him.

"Yeah..." You sighed. And you were. You felt... freer. Like your spirit had fallen right out of your body when he let your chin go. And you were free to do anything now.

"You should go do some dancing." He said.

"Yeah." You mumbled, standing slowly.

You felt like you were made of clouds. Your whole body tingled, and felt lighter than air. You felt like you were lifting your knees too high with every step. Like your muscles were too strong for how much you weighed.

Most of all, you felt amazingly free. Free from worry. From doubt. From everything.

"Have fun." He said, leaning back on the couch and smiling at you.

And you were smiling, too.

You wandered out onto the dance floor. You no longer felt the looks of the other patrons, nor of the staff. You felt invisible, in a good way. There was only you, the lights, and the music.

And the bartender. He was back behind the bar, head propped up on his hand, grinning at you. Happy for you. Happy you had given yourself permission to enjoy your first time.

And all the times to follow.