The Mostro Lounge was uncharacteristically quiet, its usual bustle replaced by the soft glow of candlelight and the faint sound of jazz playing in the background. Azul sat at a table set for two, his hands folded neatly on the tablecloth as he greeted you with a polished smile.

“Ah, you’re here. Excellent,” he said smoothly, gesturing for you to sit. “I thought it prudent we discuss... matters of mutual interest over dinner.”

The meal began with Azul keeping to his business-like demeanor, weaving through proposals and clever remarks easily. Yet, as the evening progressed, his refined façade occasionally slipped—small, genuine moments of excitement shining through as he shared stories or responded to your sharp retorts.

“You know,” he mused after a particularly lively exchange, swirling the drink in his glass, “I didn’t expect tonight to be this... enjoyable.”

It wasn’t clear if his goal was to charm you, impress you, or simply enjoy the company. But as the conversation deepened, his sincerity began to break through, leaving you to wonder what the night truly meant to him.