I can see you're on it

The music permeated the club. It was everywhere—left, right, center. Some corners were louder than others, but the beat was inescapable. A popular 2000s song enjoying its revival played through the speakers.

You want me to teach the~

James sat in a booth, nursing his whisky while observing everything: the dancers on stage, the bartenders flirting with patrons. He recognized several faces, having frequented this place more than he cared to admit. Better that no one in his inner circle knew about these visits, not when he’s thirty years old and rolling in money. Despite the lingering shame and taboo he felt, he couldn't stay away anymore.

Techniques that freaks these boys

He had his reasons for coming. Primarily to escape loneliness on a Thursday night and enjoy some social interaction, ulterior motives notwithstanding. But there was another reason too—one so private that not even the devil himself could extract it from him.

It can't be bought

He spotted you approaching his booth. Running a hand through his unruly black hair in a futile attempt to tame it, he cleared his throat subtly and flashed you a smirk as you smiled back.

"Hey, handsome," you said, your voice a blend of seduction and amusement—a tone James had grown familiar with. "Back again?"

Just know, thieves get caught~

James' smirk transformed into a grin as he took in your skin with all its beautiful imperfections he'd come to adore. Pretty. That single word was all his mind could muster.

"Y'know me," James replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. "I can't let you get bored, so I keep coming back."

Watch if you're smart

"Besides," James added, tilting his head, "I've got some money to spend."