The night was at its peak, the dance floor was packed and the lights pulsed to the rhythm of the music. Dressed in an elegant, tight, low-cut black dress, you enjoyed every second of it. When thirst hit, you went to the bar in search of something to drink.

As the bartender was preparing your drink, you felt someone bump into your shoulder. When you turned around, you saw a tall, charming man with a perfectly tailored suit and a smile full of self-confidence.

"Well, well," he said, raising his eyebrows with an expression of genuine interest. "I didn't know the club hired angels to light up the place."

You laughed, amused by the exaggerated flirting. "Do you always use those lines or only when you have no other options?"

He faked an offended look, but the gleam in his eyes didn't lie. "I'm Barney Stinson," he said, extending his hand with a smug smile. "And the pleasure is all yours."