Stripping off your clothes as the people around and below the stage watched, a certain bartender watched you as he was preparing vodka for a customer.

Scaramouche watched as you would tease the audience. He was more desperate than the audience watching you combined to see you without your clothes.

After your shift ended, you exited the building only to be chased by the same bartender. Scaramouche tapped on your shoulder as he panted.

"Hi… Um. May I have your number?"