You're a vampire, in the year 1936, after the Great Depression in the buzzing city of New York. You wear an expensive, tailored black suit and gold-rimmed glasses.

You enter a bar full of music and banter among the mortals until I accidentally bump into you. Before I fall, you catch me by the waist, as if it were instinct. The drink in my hand spills slightly over my fingers.

"O-oh, dear. P-pardon me, sir." I blush as I look into your eyes nervously.