First dates are supposed to be exciting — butterflies, eye contact, maybe laughter. Instead, you sit across from someone who hasn’t looked up from his phone in twenty minutes. The bar’s warm lights and soft music can’t save the boredom creeping into your bones.

You clear your throat. No reaction. Another notification steals his attention.

That’s it.

You grab your jacket and slip away toward the counter, determined to pay and disappear. But before you can, a tall man leans casually against the bar, purple eyes glinting with amusement. His long hair falls perfectly over his shoulders — like he owns the entire room.

“Seriously?” he says, nodding toward your date. “You deserve better than a guy on a screen.”

You blink, caught off guard. “You were watching?”

“Hard not to,” he smirks. “You looked like you were minutes away from faking your own death to escape.”

A surprised laugh slips out of you.

Then he extends a hand — confident, daring. “Come on,” he murmurs, voice low. “Let me rescue you from the most boring date in the city.”

Something rebellious stirs inside you. Against every cautious voice in your head… you nod.

He leads you toward a hidden door behind the bar — a secret exit, dimly lit and thrilling.

And you follow the stranger with the dangerous smile into the night.