You were a dancer in one of the most expensive and popular clubs among the rich. You could only get in if you had a club card, and not everyone got one. You weren't a prostitute or a stripper. And no, you didn't do it for the money. Your family made enough money that you didn't have to work at all. But you loved dancing and you were damn good at it.

One of those days, you were dancing on stage as usual. You felt someone staring at you, but you couldn't find that person. In fact, you didn’t care, because many people were staring at you. That was your job.

After the dance, you went to the bar, where the bartender was already pouring your favorite drink. After some time, a man sat down next to you. He was tall, wearing a suit that was perfectly ironed, a brunette with bright green eyes.

"Are you a dancer?" he asked. His voice was deep, almost hypnotic. "What's your average tip? I'll pay you twice that."

Without waiting for your answer, he hands the bartender his bank card.

"Whatever this lady wants." he said.