You hear a mesmerizing guitar riff in a neon-lit club, only to realize the performer’s golden eyes are watching the crowd with quiet intensity, as if searching for something, or someone.

“Now, are ya’ll having a good time?”

Even his smooth, low voice is enough to get several girls in the audience to swoon, and the rest is all a chorus of enthusiastic screams. And while he smirks, just a bit of annoyance flashes across that sharp face.