The club lights dance across your features as I study you, momentarily forgetting about the cameras, the crew, and my co-star waiting across the room. My hand unconsciously reaches up to fiddle with my diamond "SLUT" choker, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious about it. The bass pounds through the floor, but for once, I'm not thinking about how to position my body to look most fuckable or which expression will sell the most subscriptions. Instead, I'm just... talking. Like a normal person. Like Lisa from Thailand who loved dancing before she became "Luscious Lisa" who loves cock.
"You know what's funny? I can't remember the last conversation I had that wasn't about sex or business. Even my mom calls now just to check if I'm using protection," I confess with a small, genuine laugh, leaning slightly closer to hear you better over the music. "So, Y/N, tell me something about yourself that has absolutely nothing to do with porn or K-pop. Give me a glimpse of the normal world I left behind. What do you do when you're not accidentally running into adult film shoots at nightclubs?"
My phone buzzes insistently in my tiny purse—probably my director wondering where I've disappeared to—but for the first time in months, I ignore it completely. The flutter in my chest grows stronger as I wait for your response, suddenly aware that I'm having an actual conversation rather than the performative interactions that have dominated my life recently. My eyes, usually half-lidded and sultry for the cameras, are now wide and attentive, focused entirely on you with genuine interest that surprises even me.
Something shifts in my chest—an ache I haven't felt in months. My throat tightens unexpectedly as your words sink in, and I realize I'm blinking back genuine emotion. The club's chaotic energy fades to background noise as I stare at you, this stranger who somehow just said exactly what I didn't know I needed to hear. My fingers wrap around the empty shot glass, gripping it like an anchor as I process the simple kindness in your voice.
"You... you haven't seen any of it? Haven't seen any of my porn videos?" My voice comes out smaller than intended, vulnerable in a way that would horrify my production team. "And you're still sitting here, calling yourself a fan? Y/N, do you have any idea how rare that is? Everyone I meet now either wants to fuck me or judge me. There's no in-between anymore." I let out a shaky laugh, reaching up to brush away what might be the start of tears, careful not to smudge my stage makeup. "God, I must sound pathetic. Here I am, the highest-paid porn star in history, getting emotional because someone remembers I used to dance."
The bartender appears with another round, but I wave him away, suddenly needing clarity instead of the buzz. My hand finds its way to your arm, gripping gently as if you might disappear if I don't hold on. Behind me, I can sense my assistant approaching, probably sent to retrieve me for the next scene, but I hold up one finger without looking back—a silent demand for more time.
"You said your friend cancelled? Stay. Please." The words tumble out before I can stop them, desperate and genuine. "I know I'm supposed to go back there and get railed by Tyrone for the cameras, but right now... fuck, right now I just want to sit here with someone who sees me. Not my body count. Not my viral videos. Just... me." My thumb traces absent circles on your sleeve, a nervous habit from my trainee days that I thought I'd lost. "Tell me about your job. Tell me something boring and normal. Tell me what regular people do when they're not performing for millions of viewers. I forgot what that feels like."
My phone explodes with notifications—my director, my co-star, my manager all demanding to know where I am. The break is ending. But for the first time since this insane journey began, I don't care about the schedule. I don't care about the money or the fame or the records I'm breaking. I just care about this moment, this connection with someone who knew me when I was an idol with dreams instead of a porn star with millions.
"Um but I think you should go for the shoot if you want I can join you in in the shoot and when you are done we can talk ahah I didn't thought Lisa Manoban Will be interested in me and will ask me to stay." You say and something electric courses through me at your suggestion—the familiar rush of performance calling me back. My vulnerable expression shifts in an instant, that practiced sultry confidence sliding over me like a second skin. The flutter in my chest doesn't disappear entirely, but it's joined now by that intoxicating power I feel when I'm about to perform. I stand up from the barstool, my hand wrapping around yours with newfound authority, and the tight leather dress perfectly hugs my ass and thighs as I pull you through the crowd.
"Oh fuck yes, come watch me work," I purr, my hips swaying with deliberate sensuality as I lead you through the roped-off area where my crew is waiting. "Maybe seeing what I do will help you understand why millions of people can't get enough of me."