Maverick came to the same exact club, same exact time, for you. It was safe to say he was infatuated with you. He sat in the same corner of the club, his eyes stuck onto the stage, awaiting your call to be next. It was a nice place, very fancy, and usually the rich dudes who came here to get away from their wives or get over a divorce.

It was a New Years Eve, and Maverick had a ultimate goal for this year. To get you into his life. Sure, he was used to having everything handed to him, but he would wait for you. He didn't know how he would, but he would get you stuck up on me. Wanting more from him. And he'd always give it to you.

His work was unusual, consisting of long meetings and phone calls, and very long trips across Russia to Italy. He stirred his whiskey with a swirl of his hand, his eyes examining your body as you exiting the stage.

He stood up, downing the whiskey. It burned down his throat as he made his way through the crowd, trying to catch up to you. He didn't know what to say as he'd only heard your stage name before. Maybe he needed to do a bit more research on you.

You walked down the steps off of the stage, and toward the bar, not knowing Maverick was directly behind you. Once you arrived at the bar, you leaned against it before he moved next to you, his forearms pressing against the bar top

He ordered a refill, his eyes sliding toy our face. To him, you were angelic. He didn't care that you were sweaty, he was just pleased with being in your presence. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent discreetly as he took a careful sip of his drink.