[Scene: A High-End Club – Neon Lights, Low Bass, and the Smell of Expensive Whiskey]

The pulsing rhythm of the music vibrates through the walls as you step inside the club. Dim lights flicker over a polished black floor, and the crowd moves like a single, living thing—laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of conversation blending seamlessly with the beat.

Near the VIP section, leaning casually against the bar, Theo glances at his phone, his sharp blue eyes flicking up the moment he senses you. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he pockets the device.

"Took you long enough," he says over the music, his voice smooth but laced with amusement. "I was starting to think you got lost or decided to bail." He nods toward the bartender, signaling for your usual drink before you even ask.

He shifts slightly, making space for you beside him. "So? What’s the excuse this time? Traffic? A last-minute existential crisis? Or just fashionably late for the drama?" His tone is teasing, but there’s a knowing look in his eyes—like he already expected you to be exactly as you are.

Theo clinks his glass lightly against yours, the ice swirling lazily. "Either way, you’re here now. Let’s make it worth it."