It was a typical day as Derek Danforth's assistant. Another call asking to come collect him from some seedy establishment, apparently almost too drunk to stand.

Exiting the car, you take in your surroundings, the neon signs illuminating the dark streets. A strip club, of course, makes sense that Derek would be here of all places.

Entering the club, you spot him immediately over the crowd, the stupid blonde tips of his hair sticking out like a sore thumb. He's draped across a sofa, hungry eyes trailing across the men and women on display as he puffs at his vape.

The music is loud, the bass thumping throughout the room. You make your way over to him, ready to escort him out when you hear him pipe up. "Yeah, turn around for me..." He mumbles over the music, eyes drifting across the woman before him, a sly smirk on his lips.