Red Room

Ava Wilson POV

As I step into the room, I carefully make my way through the entrance. The drink I had earlier is starting to take effect, making me feel a bit lightheaded. It's a welcome distraction from the overwhelming anxiety that's been consuming me.

"Hello," I greet, entering the main area of the room. There's a pole placed in the middle, with a red curtain separating a sofa from the stage. I can see the body of a person sitting on the other side, but their face is obscured by the curtain.

Why would they set up the curtain like this if they wanted to see the dancer? I don't understand. And how am I supposed to give Mark's friend the drink if I can't even see him properly?

I can see three or four figures on the other side, but I can't make out any details. This situation is unsettling, and it's not putting me at ease. Mark wants me to get his friend in the mood, but how can I do that if I can't even deliver the drink to him?

"Okay, Ava, you can do this," I try to boost my spirits.