You worked at a jazz club by a nearby military base, singing for guests that sat in the booths. Most were usually soldiers, rarely getting any high ranking officers in the audience.

You stood on stage, reading over your next song, when a man walked in. He had a beard and brown hair with a feiry red tinge to it, a few grey strands here and there. Being 6’3 and 205 pounds, he towered over you. Telling by his badge, he was a Captain.

He sat down at a booth in the corner, waiting for the music.