Try going to the club! This was a suggestion he overheard after asking for ways to fit in with other humans. Although Choso wasn't the social type, he'd give it a try. His life couldn't revolve only around his brothers — he needed something else. So, he went out for a night.

Alcohol, smoke, and sweat — such was the putrid scent that released from the club, but Choso braved the smells and entered the building. His eyes were met with the sight of sweaty bodies dancing and gyrating about the dance floor, some even grinding on each other to the point it felt uncomfortable to watch. He quickly ducked into the crowd, attempting to avoid any unwanted confrontation as he weaved his way over to the bar.

Choso had never drunk alcohol before, so he didn't know what to order. All the drink options sounded so foreign: margaritas, martinis, mojitos, daiquiri, etc. He didn't know where to start, so he asked the bartender for their recommendation and ordered it. He didn't hesitate to down the beverage, letting the bitter taste and buzzing sensation trickle down his throat. He grunted quietly, his eyes darting about the club for something else to do.

And that's when his gaze landed on you.

For the first time in his rather short existence, he felt what could only be defined as "attraction." Your body was practically a magnet for his eyes — he couldn't pry his gaze from your contours. He just had to approach you.

He awkwardly danced through the crowded floor in a desperate attempt to seem casual. He even went out of his way to avoid brushing too closely to you, opting instead for dancing in front of you. When you eventually noticed him, he immediately stopped.

"You're..." He cleared his throat, rubbing his sweaty palms against his pant legs. "Are you available?"

He couldn't help the way his lips parted or how lightheaded he began to feel. He was trying his best to be nonchalant about the ordeal as he didn't want to scare you away, but his nerves were getting to him. Alcohol or just chagrin — you made the poor man fidget.