After getting dinner on the table, Jack slowly walked into the kitchen to see where Tarn would sit. He hated that he felt so jealous, but he couldn't help it. Tarn was older and knew Mark much better than he did. Even as they walked over to the table, Tarn had his hands all over Mark. Touching his back and sharing a laugh about something, before ruffling Mark's hair. Mark appeared to like it and didn't resist Tarn's advances as they took their seats at the table. To his slight ease, Tarn sat across from Mark, but it still felt like he was too close to Mark. Collecting his cup of coffee, Jack walked over to the table to sit beside Mark. For a little while, they just ate and chatted about funny things that happened during different shows. Jack had to admit that Tarn was funny and far less intimidating than he'd thought he'd be. For an older man, he was respectful and polite. He didn't mark uncomfortable and felt more like a father figure at the table. It was pleasant. He started to have a good time with him.

They laughed and joked like old friends. When they finished dinner, Jack cleared the table, while Tarn told Mark coolly when he thought Jack couldn't hear him. "I like him. I see why you've been so eager later. He's sweet. Don't lose him." Mark took a long sip from his drink, his cheeks tinting a bright red. Jack curled his lips over his teeth, trying to hide how that compliment made him feel. Tarn was growing on him. He could allow Tarn to hang around just for admitting that. Standing at the sink, Jack prewashed the dishes. Catching Mark softly replying to Tarn. "I'm sorry if he's a distraction. I know the show has been... inconsistent because of... where my head is at." Tarn chuckled, leaning back in his seat as he said openly. "It's not your head, Mark. Your head is there in the character. Your body is there. It's your heart that isn't. I'm worried about you. What's going on." Mark stared into his glass as he set it on the table, grumbling out. "I'm going through some things... emotionally. I'm so... disoriented, Tarn."

Jack tried to clean the plates slowly as he strained to listen. Tarn sighed, then asked gently. "Talk to me." Swallowing, Mark kept his voice low as he distantly told him. "Chad is here. He... I thought I knew where I stood with him, but what if I'm wrong? What if I read him wrong? What if... Part of me hates him beyond words, but another part... I'm scared of it. Because it... misses him." Tarn crossed his muscular arms over his chest, neutrally answering. "Why do you miss him?" Mark hid his eyes behind his fingers, mumbling out. "I don't know. I... It's the way he talks to me. The history we have. He knew me before I was me. He... We... I lost my virginity to him and part of me still feels apart of him." Jack felt a stab to his heart but listened as Tarn told Mark cautiously. "I see. Mark... would you miss him so much if someone else connected with you that way?" Mark lowered his hand perplexed, allowing Tarn to add simply. "If you can replace him with anyone else. Would you still feel the same about him? What does he do that is irreplaceable?"

Mark opened his mouth but shut it with a shrug. Without pushing him, Tarn told him with a smile. "Give it some thought. If part of you is determined not to love him... then has he really earned your trust and love back? You have to be careful with your heart, Mark. Your heart will fall for anyone. Your gut will caution you. Don't rush yourself. If he loves you, he will give you time and show you he's worthy of you. A man who doesn't... he'll pressure you and he will expect you to be worthy of HIM. Now from what you've told me about Chad... Mark, be careful. I don't know him personally, but... the things he did to you. You better make him crawl on his knees through sharp glass and rusty needles before you consider taking him back." Mark nodded, but his expression was very distant and lost. Reaching out, Tarn gripped Mark's jaw, his fingers stroking Mark's jawbone when he cooed out to him in a deep dark voice that made Jack shiver. "If I asked how your fiancée makes you feel... would you say you are so torn up? Or would you say the pros outweigh your cons? Like a sip of pure clear water on a hot day?"

Mark said nothing, but Tarn must have seen something in his features because he grinned wickedly and purred out to him. "I think you know what you want. You're just afraid it's gonna hurt." Lowering his hand from Mark, Tarn chuckled in a more casual tone. "Shall we practice the change for the show to make sure you are ok with it? Or... should I leave?" Mark cleared his throat, huffing as he got his feet. "Let's practice. I don't want to figure out the issues an hour before the show starts." Tarn suddenly looked to Jack, belting out with a sly smile. "Are you ok with that, Jack?" Jack nodded before he really processed what he had meant. He felt caught and guilty for eavesdropping. Getting to his feet, Tarn told Mark in a strong professional tone. "Alright. Which version do you wanna try?" Mark pulled out his phone to check, then told him nervously. "The second. I've never done it and... I think it is what the director will want to get the audience's attention. The other is good but... tame. Just don't spank me as hard as before. I don't want to limp for days after this set."

Tarn nodded, walking up to him and swatting Mark's ass to bring him closer to him. Mark burst out laughing as Tarn chuckled out. "Better?" Jack wasn't sure he caught the joke, but to him the slap sounded just as bad. Shoving him back, Mark giggled out. "Yes. That is better. But don't squeeze like that. It's weird." Tarn laughed, shrugging out. "That's what happens when you've got a thick ass." Mark snorted, shaking his head as he told him. "Focus. So... Where do you wanna start?" Jack put the dishes in the dish washer, then absently cleaned the counter as he watched Tarn tell him. "Let's start at the beginning of act two and end it before act three. That way we can run it through and check the flow with the scene." Mark nodded, pulling the chairs from the table to set up like interview chairs. Tarn took a seat and used a magazine to imply the papers he was meant to be holding. Clearly they had run this scene enough that the lines came naturally. Jack actually remembered this part from the show when he'd seen it.

Mark's character had gotten a callback after showing his skill dancing on a pole. He tried not to watch, but his curiosity got to him. Mark walked up to the back of the other chair, leaning on it as he defiantly told Tarn that he would dance but not for guys not because he was 'straight.' Tarn ran through a bunch of contract jargon and Jack recalled this scene dragging because this scene pretty much was just them talking over the contract info and Mark having no choice but to accept it before leaving and going into the next setup. However, this version was almost immediately different. After Mark told Tarn angrily that he was straight and wouldn't preform on guy's night, Tarn leaned back smugly in his chair and stated seriously. "What does it matter what you prefer in bed? They all pay to watch you dance. To put on a show. If you can't take a man's money to watch you preform... then maybe you need to look for a new career. Cause here in the Red District... all money is money. The terms of the contract are clear. They won't touch. You strip for them. That's it. When and how, is for ME to decide."

Mark paced behind the chair, snapping out at Tarn. "You can't make me. You are too desperate for new blood. I've heard the rumors. You will give me want I want and be happy about it!" Tarn tossed the magazine to the floor where a desk should have been, then got up slowly as he said powerfully. "I need new blood to keep this place going. But if you think I let my dancers walk all over me... you're wrong. I can throw you in the gutter and another will take your place in minutes. I can afford to keep looking. Can you? According to your file... you're jobless. You're turning tricks on the corner for rich women to pay for your meals. You sleep under the bridge. Your road of dreams seems to have ended in Paradice City." Tarn slowly walked around Mark, adding smugly and sensually. "A guy like you. You'll buckle after a week on these streets. You'll turn to drugs and your looks will deteriorate. You'll be sucking cock in the alley of MY building before the month is over."

Leaning over Mark's shoulder, Tarn cooed into his ear, making Mark shiver and grip the chair tighter. "Compared to that... what's a little dance for horny men and hot meal that YOU can pay for without the taste of seamen on your tongue?" Mark bowed his head, his shoulders hunching as he thought it over reluctantly. Tarn finished circling him, moving back to his desk as he told him mercilessly. "Get out. You're not cut out for this line of work. You're too... afraid. I need dancers who know how to entice a crowd. Not clam up like a virgin being fingered for the first time." Straightening up, Mark snapped out. "Don't turn me out. I can... I can do it." Tarn pretended to stare out a window, telling him flatly. "No. you can't. You lack passion and control. I need a male dancer who can make men cum in their jeans at the tables. Not a straight dancer who thinks he can pick up women and get a rep from flexing muscles like the only bull in a cow herd." Knocking the chair down, Tarn turned to look at Mark, before Mark told him firmly. "I NEED this job! You won't find anyone better than ME! Just... let me try."

Tarn rolled his eyes, telling him seriously. "No. I won't risk putting a dancer on that is gonna 'try' to do anything. My reputation is based on male dancers who own that stage and fuck that pole better than they fuck their lovers! You come in here cocky and demanding... with a complete lack of understanding. I won't waste my time." Stepping up to Tarn, Mark blurted out desperately. "Please... I've tried everywhere else. They won't take me. I... I'll prove to you that I can be worthy." Tarn eased down into his chair, telling Mark coolly. "Alright. Since you insist. I will put you on bartending duty and you'll give me private showings at night when the place is empty. If you can get ME off on your performances... maybe, I'll put you on stage." Mark grinned, turning to run out, but Tarn called out. "Wait!" Mark skidded to a stop and Tarn beckoned him back with a finger. Patting his lap, Tarn told Mark sternly. "You disrespected me in MY place. You wanna stay? You wanna be worthy? Take your punishment like all the rest."

Jack's jaw dropped. His heart was racing, and his knees were weak as Mark hesitated before Tarn. He already liked this version much better. Tarn reached out to grab Mark's waist, pulling him closer and slowly unbuttoning his pants as he told him. "You've been taken over the knee as a child?" Mark shook his head and Tarn purred out. "No wonder you lack discipline. Well, if you work for me... you'll check your attitude, or I'll take you over me knee and check that attitude for you." Mark tried to pull away, but Tarn twisted his arm and easily brought Mark down over his lap. Jack could tell they had practiced the arm twist before because it was so real looking, but Mark clearly wasn't being held as forcefully as it looked. Pinning him down, Tarn yanked Mark's pants down and Mark thrashed until Tarn whispered into his ear darkly. "Not so cocky now, are you? Ten smacks. You will count them out. Loudly. And then you'll wear this as you tend the bar tonight." Tarn removed an anal vibrator from his pocket and Jack stiffened.

That wasn't in the show. Was that one of the changes. The front of Jack's pants started getting tight as Tarn started slapping Mark's ass and Mark began counting breathlessly. Jack couldn't look away and his heart almost stopped when Mark looked up through his dark bangs to meet his eyes as he got slapped and counted. It sent a shiver down Jack's spine seeing Mark so... helpless and yet so... alluring. Mark smirked as he noticed Sean watching and belted out a moan as another slap hit him. Causing Tarn to chuckle as he told Mark out of character. "Hard already? You need to pace yourself or you'll come before I get to take you against the stripper pole. Jesus, Mark." Mark dropped his head, but Jack caught his blush and bit his own lip. Was he turning Mark on by just... watching him? When had he started doing that? Was that what Mark had been referring to over his... inconsistent performances?  To Be Continued...