Natural Instincts

Velvet Vertigo looked as if it had been untouched since his last visit. The violet-tinted lights still cast soft shadows across the polished hardwood floors while the low pulse of music vibrated faintly through the room, more felt than heard. Brass poles still stretched from floor to ceiling in evenly spaced rows, gleaming beneath the overhead fixtures like some kind of surreal fitness obstacle course designed by a nightclub architect.

And standing in the middle of it all, just as he had the day before, was Craig.

Pink-and-black ruffled shorts.

Matching sports bra.

Towering platform heels that added nearly half a foot to his height and somehow still felt easier to stand in than ordinary shoes.

His reflection stared back from every mirrored wall. Long legs wrapped in glossy skin-toned stockings. Smoothly shaved thighs. Bright yellow nails curled awkwardly at his sides. The outfit left very little hidden, and unfortunately, Craig had become aware enough of his transformed reality to know that to the world around him, these were normal clothes for him to wear.

That part still bothered him. Despite the fact that he had begun to feel more comfortable in the clothes, appreciate the feeling of the material, how the cuts felt on his body, having the world think that this was Craig's normal made him feel as if he was going crazy. Yes, he knew it wasn't him, it was Eros' magic that had caused all of this, but as time went on, it had begun to wear on him. The frequency of compliments he received about his new look, the casual way that people received it, Craig caught himself more than once that morning wondering if he was the problem.

All because somewhere out there, a lunatic god had apparently looked down from Olympus and thought, You know what this warehouse worker needs? Pole dancing and a company car.

"We're going to change things up a bit today, Craig."

Melody paced slowly in front of him, heels clicking softly against the hardwood. Every movement she made seemed deliberate. Fluid. Even walking looked choreographed when she did it. Hips swayed gently with the rhythm of the music while one hand rested loosely against her waist.

"I noticed something yesterday," she continued. "You perform best when you're not trapped inside your own head."

Craig frowned immediately. That didn't sound promising.

"I think there's a great dancer locked in there somewhere," Melody said with a bright smile. "I just need to figure out how to get him out."

Great. Exactly what he wanted to hear. Still... part of him couldn't completely dismiss the idea. Last night in the apartment, those absurd knee-high platform boots had turned him into something graceful. Agile. Confident. Spins and movements that should've ended in disaster had somehow felt natural. Effortless.

Meanwhile yesterday's lesson had reduced him to stumbling embarrassment. Maybe Melody had noticed the disconnect between how he moved naturally and how he moved when on the pole. Maybe she was right.

Or maybe none of it mattered because Craig had absolutely no interest in becoming good at pole dancing.

As if he had any say in the matter.

"The only thing we need to solve," Melody continued, "is how to stop you from overthinking long enough for your instincts to take over."

Before Craig could respond, she guided him toward the nearest pole. Warm fingers slipped around his hand. Gentle pressure turned his palm against the cool brass. Melody placed his hand higher on the pole, then rested her own overtop of it. Her eyes locked onto his immediately.

"The pole isn't something to be afraid of," she said softly.

Her hand slid slowly over his knuckles, guiding his grip upward along the smooth metal.

"You need to start thinking of it as something supportive. Something helpful."

Craig nearly laughed at how absurd the conversation sounded. Then her hands settled lightly against his hips. The music pulsed faintly through the room.

"Just hold onto the pole and move with the rhythm," Melody said. "Close your eyes. Stop thinking so hard."

Easy for her to say.

Still, Craig obeyed. Eyes closed. Hands gripping brass.

A second later, Melody stepped away. The music abruptly swelled louder, bass thrumming through the floorboards beneath his platform heels.

"Feel the beat!" she called over the music. "Don't think about what you're doing. Just move!"

Craig tightened his grip automatically. Which was difficult not to do, considering his life had completely derailed in barely over a week. Nine days ago he'd been unloading trucks. Now he was standing in platform heels inside an erotic dance studio because a god had apparently decided to rewrite reality around him. The thought churned bitterly in his chest while the music pulsed steadily through the room.

Somewhere beneath his hands, the brass pole felt cool and solid. Stable.

His hips shifted absently with the rhythm.

What kind of future was Eros even trying to build for him? A soulmate? That had supposedly been the point of all this. Only Craig couldn't imagine the sort of person who'd actually want the version of him he was becoming. Who fell for a guy in stockings and sports bras who baked bread at work and learned pole dancing as "professional development."

One platform heel crossed neatly in front of the other. The movement happened smoothly. Automatically. A slow turn carried him around the pole.

Anyone attracted to this version of him wasn't someone Craig could picture himself loving back. Right?

His fingers slid higher up the brass while the music wrapped itself around the room in slow, steady waves.

A leg hooked instinctively against the pole. Spin. The movement flowed naturally despite the impossible height of the platforms.

Craig barely noticed.

All he could think about was Frank. The apartment. The rewritten memories. Every single day another piece of his life disappeared and everyone else just accepted it like nothing had changed.

Meanwhile his body rolled fluidly against the pole in time with the music. One hand remained high overhead while his hips swayed in a slow figure-eight. A pivot. Another spin. The brass slid along his smooth thigh as his platform heels crossed elegantly beneath him.

Maybe this was punishment. That thought surfaced suddenly. Maybe Eros wasn't helping him at all. Maybe this whole soulmate thing had been a joke from the start. Some cosmic prank at Craig's expense while the god sat somewhere laughing himself stupid.

His chest pressed briefly against the pole. One knee bent gracefully. A slow body roll followed without conscious thought, spine arching smoothly while his fingers traced downward along the brass.

Craig never noticed.

Not until applause suddenly cracked through the music.

"YES!"

His eyes flew open. Melody stood nearby clapping enthusiastically, practically glowing with excitement. And Craig...

Craig froze.

Both hands clutched the pole overhead. Knees spread apart against the hardwood. Back arched. Hips moving rhythmically against the brass in slow, fluid thrusts.

"Oh my God..."

Humiliation detonated through him instantly. Craig scrambled upright so fast he nearly lost balance despite the platforms.

"What the hell was I doing?!"

"That was incredible!" Melody beamed.

She grabbed a small remote from nearby and lowered the music volume slightly before turning back toward him with open delight.

"And for only your second lesson!" she continued. "Craig, that was fantastic."

Blood rushed furiously into his face.

"I wasn't... I didn't mean to..."

"No wonder they promoted you," Melody interrupted warmly. "You have natural instincts. Honestly? Most beginners fight themselves way harder than this."

Natural instincts. Craig wanted to die. Heat burned across his cheeks while he climbed fully to his feet, legs trembling faintly beneath him. The worst part, the absolute worst part, was how comfortable he still felt in the heels.

Balanced.

Steady.

His body had moved like it belonged there. Like it wanted to.

Melody smiled and pointed toward the water station near the mirrored wall.

"Go take a quick break," she said. "Then we'll review some of the movements you were doing naturally."

Naturally.

God.

"And after that," she added cheerfully, "we stretch."