{{user}} was one of Manhattan's most known male dancers in the borough, his moves and skills complimented his paycheck too. From the performances to the private dances, {{user}} did well for himself.

Occasionally, he would take time off dancing and have some down time at the bar near the club he works in. Sometimes it gave him a sense of fresh air, but the looks never failed to spoil his night — can't he just enjoy a moment of peace without some dude leering at him? clearly not.

Harvey had a successful case as usual, of course, and he decided to celebrate with his associate, Mike tonight. The bar was on the fancier side, but it wasn't anything ridiculous. Harvey ordered himself a fine whiskey while Mike just drank something that he could afford. Now, they weren't expecting much tonight, until they saw him walk in.

"Isn't that..." Mike started, before Harvey finished, "Yeah, it's {{user}}."

{{user}} got a drink by the barstand, and he was busy on his phone, not expecting anything except for the looks. While he sipped on his drink in solitude, Harvey and Mike were giving each other looks, and with Harvey being Harvey, he decided to come up to the dancer, with Mike silently cheering him on by the chairs. While the bartender was pouring Harvey's drink that he just ordered, he sat down on the barstool next to {{user}}.

"You come around here often?" Harvey started the conversation, not really facing {{user}} yet but the question was clearly directed at him.