What? I look up confused and another tailless, earless bunny is carrying a tray with a bowl on it. She puts it in front of me.

Oh. Fuck. No.

Even Dakota jerks back in disgust.

I stare at the contents of the bowl in disbelief. I know exactly what’s in the bowl. It hits me then. The organizers of Dare Me have trawled my social media account. Years ago, a friend sent me a video of a South Vietnam delicacy. ‘How to prepare and eat live coconut worms.’

I can’t take my eyes off the fat worms squirming in a concoction of chilies, lime juice, and some other Asian sauces. I remember clearly leaving a comment on the video. ‘I’d rather die than eat that.’ Now they are going to use it against me. My stomach begins to churn.

“Jesus, do they want you to eat that?” Dakota asks.

I nod slowly.

“You should eat them quick. This is cruel. Those poor things must be burning up in that chili soup.”

Un-fucking-believable. Of course, she would care more for the wellbeing of the damn worms than mine. I look up at her and snarl, “Fine, I’ll eat them, but make sure you do your stunt just as quickly when it’s your turn.”

She shrinks back.

I stare at her. “Do we have a deal?”

She bites her bottom lip.

“Do we have a deal?” I repeat.

“Yes,” she whispers.

I pick up the chopsticks lying at the side of the bowl and take a deep breath. Nothing is more important than winning this game. Nothing is more important than my dream. Nothing. I catch one of the wriggling worm between my chopsticks.

Without looking at it again, I bring it into my mouth and crunch it quickly between my teeth. I don’t allow myself to feel sick. Without acknowledging the milky taste bursting onto my tongue, I swallow the still wriggling mass. I feel it go down my throat and travel into my esophagus. There is a lingering taste of chili and fish sauce in my mouth. My toes curl in my shoes.

I just ate a worm that was still alive.

I look into the bowl. There are five more. I do the same until my bowl is empty of them. I look at up Dakota.

She is staring at me with wide eyes. “I’d rather take my clothes off than do that,” she whispers. Her phone buzzes. She looks at it, then up to me. Her face is pale. She looks nothing like that girl I met in the carpark.

“What is your stunt?”

“I have to dance until I have collected two hundred dollars from the men here. Wish me luck.” She takes off her coat. She is wearing a denim dress with thick tights.

Inexplicably and suddenly, I don’t want her to be up there. Dancing and having all these perverts staring at her. I don’t want to see her breasts. I mean, I do of course, but not like this. She is too good for this.

A woman comes up to her. “I can escort you to the back where you can change into your costume.”

Dakota nods. Her shoulders are no longer straight. They are slumped and defeated. She stands up and follows the woman.

I don’t even have to think. I open my wallet. There’s less than a hundred in cash. I can run out and look for cash, but I might disqualify myself. I put my wallet back into my pocket, and think fast. I pull out my phone and call Eric. He lives around the corner from here.

“Where are you?” I ask.

“Just about to go out to dinner, man. Where are you?”

“Can you get to the Caveman?”

“Sure. Are you at the Caveman?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah, can you bring two hundred dollars with you?”

“What’s going on?” he asks confused.

“I’ll tell you everything later. Just get here as soon as you can.”

“Okay.”

“How long will you be?” I ask in a panicked voice.

“I don’t know. Twenty minutes.”

“Okay. Hurry up.” I slip my phone back into my pocket and look at my watch. Come on, Eric. Get here fast. I tap my fingers on the table surface impatiently.

Ten minutes later, things start happening on the stage. The DJ takes his place. The curtain twitches. Shit, she’s coming on. The bright stage lights come on and the DJ announces her name.

Fuck.

I call Eric again. “Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m just around the corner, dude. I’m getting the money out of the hole in the wall.”

“Hurry up, please.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

“Make it four,” I growl.

The music starts and Dakota appears in the spotlight. She is wearing a red top that seems to be made of mesh with a tie between her breasts, a pair of white go-go shorts, and knee length black boots. The men start catcalling and whistling. Her face looks pale and nervous under all the makeup they have slapped on her. Her enormous eyes desperately look for me in the dark.

I stand and smile encouragingly.

When she knows I’m there her eyes slide away.

It is a shock to me how protective I feel of her. I sit down, my hand gripping the seat so hard, it hurts. If one guy says one bad thing…I look around me.

Men are starting to move towards the catwalk. They’re attracted by the idea of a new dancer, fresh meat.

Dakota starts to move to the music, her movements are jerky. She goes to the pole and swings around it the way the Asian girl had done, but in a shaky, amateurish way.

Someone whistles, someone else laughs.

I feel my hands clench with fury. I force myself to breathe slowly. Eric will be here soon. He will come with the money and I will stop this travesty. I stare at her. Under the spotlight, she glows like something unreal. An angel. She tugs at the tie under her breasts and it comes loose. She shrugs out of it as she walks down the catwalk. Underneath, she is wearing a tiny red bikini top.

Her eyes meet mine.

I can’t breathe.

She turns around and fuck—she has an amazing ass. Problem is, I’m not the only one seeing it.

Someone calls out, “Whoa, sugar, that’s one fine ass you have!”

I see red. Jealousy burns my gut. I stand and walk over to him.

He is sitting with a group of men. They are obviously city boys out for a night of fun.

I want to knock his head off, but I know that will just get me kicked out. “Can you fucking keep your comments to yourself?” I snarl furiously.

“Fuck you,” he retorts.

I’m about to lose it when I hear Eric’s voice call out to me. I turn around and stride over to him. “Have you got the money?”

“Yeah.” He stares at me, surprised, as if he’s seeing me for the first time.

“Go give it to the girl on the stage.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hurry up,” I almost yell.

Eric runs over to the catwalk and holds the money out to Dakota.

She understands immediately. She reaches out, grabs the money, and holds it up. ‘I’ve got it. I’ve got the two hundred dollars!”

My phone buzzes. I look at it and hold the phone triumphantly aloft so Dakota can see the lighted up message.