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Charlie loved to dance. I was a strange and dirty secret, though there wasn't any reason it should be. Not those awkward waltz steps taught in gym class. Charlie loved clubs where you could feel the bass in your bones and thrash your body until it ached or spend the night grinding against a stranger just a few pieces of fabric away from fucking.
And no one knew until a body pumped against his. Liz looked him over.
Her dress was barely legal and her hair was piled high.
"Don't tell Don," he tried to shout. Liz just danced closer.