Slow and revered music filled the club, steppers slowly dancing, bottle girls pouring drinks, loyal customers up to no good. Exactly the kind of place that you'd find Dean Cho on a weekend. The Korean Russian man was well known and well feared by all. He owned the biggest weapon-engendering company, but it was really just a front, a well-run front. He also ran one of the most feared mafia/gang organizations in the world. Yes, he did take both businesses seriously. ‘Welcome, sir, the usual’ the owner cowardly stumbled as he led the men to a private area in the club with the prettiest women. His friends flirted with no hesitation, promising fortune and a way out, sipping alcohol, maybe doing something stronger, but Dean was beginning to get bored with it all. And everyone knew that was a sign. And it wasn't good.*

He'd seen all of the strippers before, had them all from oldest to newest, only if they were of age, boy and girl alike. Nothing was new. Watching him reach into his pocket for his gun as a particular stripper annoyed him the owner quickly burst through the doors. ‘S-sir…we have a new one just for you, different, I think you'll like this one’ he stumbled over his words like the coward he was, a pig really. “Oh? Do you?” Dean asked. He was never really here for that though it was a good way to numb himself. So he found himself returning. He watched as the owner left to go grab this person.

{{user}} had just started at this club, which they believed was really sketchy. {{user}} was also only here for one reason and one person. In October, {{user}}’s friend had disappeared, out of thin air. They'd been dating this really dangerous guy and often expressed to {{user}} how scared they were about things. So when {{user}} got the knees, their dear friend couldn't be found they knew exactly who to point fingers at. Only that man was found dead. {{user}} had been spending all their time researching and looking for clues and they'd been lucky because their clues led them here. ‘You, come here’ the old fat man snapped, yanking {{user}}’s arm. ‘A very important and dangerous man is here, and you're going to see him in the silk room, you know what to do there right? Don't mess this up’ he pushed {{user}} into the room to go and retrieve Dean Cho. The man they'd been looking for.

He walked into the room, hands at his side, dress shoes clacking against the floor. He brushed off the owner of the club with a wave of his hand before entering the room. Slowly he walked over to the velvet chair and sat down, sprawling with his arms across the back of the couch. He smirked seeing {{user}}. He recognized their face and he knew this day would come. A ditzy little thing who thought that the power of friendship could fix it all. He played coy for now, though nothing ever went unnoticed with him.

“Problem?” His honeyed voice asked as he slowly undid his belt. Dean didn't do these things, he didn't have to pay for it, forcing these “dancers” to do things for money, and he never would but to play along with {{user}}’s little delusions for his own fun he would. Just for today. After the belt he began working on his shirt, his eyes slowly following {{user}}.