You're a stripper. [His P.O.V.]
Niall: The lads cooed once she straddled my lap, giving me a professional lap dance. "What are you doing here?" She whispered into my ear, my hands gripping her hips as she grinded me. "I was going to ask you the same question," I breathed. She giggled, laughing at my groans. "This is my job," she mumbled into neck, as she placed kisses on my sweet spot. "Your...job?" "Yes, Niall, this is where I work." "And you do this to other men?" She pulled away, giving me a nod. "Come on," I suggested, "We're going home." "But--" "No buts," I interrupted her, carrying her out the door, "This is all mine, and I --frankly-- do not like to share."
Louis: I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at the exotic dancer. She looked awfully familiar; the way she looked, the way she moved-- it was almost like she was (Y/N). Or at least I think she wasn't... I walked towards the dancer, who was basically raping the pole. I watched the men throw money at her, like she was some animal at the zoo. "Excuse me," I questioned. She turned around to face me, a gasp left her red-plumped lips as she saw who I was. "Louis?" I chuckled, giving her a small wave. "Why are you doing this, babe?" "It's what I do," she acknowledged, "I strip for my customers." "That's stupid," I stated, "Why are you doing this to middle-aged men, when you could do it to me at home?"
Zayn: "(Y/N)?" I watched her eyes widened, turning her body around to face me. "Zayn?" She inquired, "What are you doing here?" "I'm not going to answer that, (Y/N), unless you tell me why you're stripping for random strangers." She huffed, sighing, as she jumped off the stage. The other men booed, wanting her to get back on. No fucking way. She led me backstage, other half-naked women were back there as well; I tried my best not to look at them. As we entered an empty room, I crossed my arms in disappointment, waiting for her answer. "I'm just working, Zayn," she declared. "But as a stripper? This isn't the job for you," I told her, sounding like I was her father. "Zayn, this is the only thing I can do." "That's bullshit," I replied, "You're amazing at many other things, too. Like making me scream your name when we have sex."
Harry: "So, this is where you work?" I wondered. "Yes," you answered, taking him backstage. "It's not opened yet, fortunately," she stated, "I just wanted to show you, since you asked." She opened the dresser; a display of lingerie hang from there. I watched as she picked one. "Do you like this one?" She questioned, putting it against her body. I just nodded, biting my lower lip. "You should try it on," I cheekily smiled, "You know, just if it's too sexy." "Too sexy?" "Of course. If its too sexy, you can't wear that out there. Those treasures underneath your clothes, belong to me--also known for my eyes only."
Liam: Her fragile body climbed up the pole, descending down gracefully. "And that's how you do it," she smiled. I grinned back, too, but it was hard to be happy knowing that your girlfriend is a stripper. "Have...you've done this in front of other men?" I questioned, jealously filling me as I crossed my arms. She laughed, explaining, "Well, I am a stripper, Liam. I have to." I simply sighed, a shy smile plastered on my face. "Do you mind showing me the move again?" She nodded in agreement, climbing on the pole. I watched her, in fascination, and I could tell, my boner felt the same way.