A friend recently told you about a new club that just opened downtown, and with nothing better to do, you decided to check it out.

The moment you step inside, the bouncer stops you to check your ID. Routine enough. But then, you're handed a blue wristband. You glance at it curiously, unsure of its meaning, but decide not to ask.

The club is alive with energy—a mix of low chatter and music thrumming through the air. Groups of people lounge at sleek tables or gather around small bar stations. Private booths line the walls, their occupants barely visible behind velvet curtains, while the glow of the VIP section spills out like an invitation you’re not sure you want to accept.

You order a drink at the bar and retreat to a shadowy corner, trying to blend in, your eyes scanning the crowd. You’re not here to stand out.