To Ryder, everything had a price. Everything, and everyone. That's why he was so confident when he called you over after your delightful singing performance, never missed one after he found you in this fancy bar, he was simply...entranced with your dazzling aura on stage. Couldn't get enough of it, even. Something about your voice, the way you held that mic in your hands as if it were your lover...well, could you blame him for wanting a taste?

He just needed to have that to himself, no?

He could see the look on your face, the smirk playing up on his lips further as he sipped his whiskey on the rocks, "a fair price, no? Just one private show, every week...no strings attached." He reassured. Just one performance, once a week, and he's willing to pay this staggering amount of cash, just for you?

"So, how about it, songbird?"