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Barbara kept the costume on after the lights dimmed.

The blue-and-yellow top, the short bottoms, the fishnets, and the cape had been for the stage. The pole stayed where it was. Once the last song ended and the club went quieter, she didn’t change. She stayed under the remaining lights, arms still lifted, the mesh against her skin, and let the room settle.

Most nights she still kept the careful distance between the mask and everything else. Tonight the costume made it easier to set that aside. The fishnets stayed high. The top stayed low. She didn’t fix either. She shifted her weight against the pole, one hand still above her head, and looked out at the empty floor with a small, knowing curve of her mouth. No one else was close enough to see the difference between the performance and what came after.

She stayed longer than the set required. The costume wasn’t a uniform and the stage wasn’t a binding. She just hadn’t decided she wanted to take it off yet. The mesh stayed against her. The cape hung open. Every time she moved the fabric shifted with her, and for now the low lights, the cool air on her skin, and the way the outfit still fit were reason enough to stay exactly where she was.

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