Jazz was nothing, if not prompt when it came to her show. The sooner it started, after all, the sooner she could end it.
Lights toward the back dimmed, making the ones up front seem brighter, and music started playing from somewhere. It was soft and low, barely more than a beat, but then, it wasn't meant to distract. It was only there for her.
One long leg slipped through the faux velvet curtain, teased there for a moment, sliding up, then down along the fabric. With a smooth roll of her hips the rest of her body followed, moving free of the curtain and into the light.