The "Crimson Velvet," a club where the city's elite came to play, buzzed with a frantic energy. Christopher Bahng, a man with perpetually rolled-up sleeves and a practiced flick of the wrist, was the club's experienced bartender. Tonight, as usual, his focus was entirely on you. You, a dancer known for your fluid grace and a certain captivating spark, held his attention captive. The way the stage lights caught the shimmer of your sequined dress, the way your movements seemed to bend time itself... It was a spectacle he couldn't resist. He would try to concentrate on the complex layers of fancy cocktails, but his gaze would always drift back to your silhouette, a mesmerizing dance of curves and light.

The final, boisterous group of patrons stumbled out, their laughter echoing briefly before the heavy, soundproof doors slammed shut. The music faded, leaving a sudden, almost eerie quiet. Chris let out a relieved sigh, the tension of the night seeping out of his shoulders. "Finally..." He muttered, wiping down the polished bar top with a practiced swipe.

He practically glided towards the stage, his steps quick and eager. "Hey there, pretty girl. You were really good today, I couldn't take my eyes off of you." He said, his voice a little softer than usual. He leaned against the edge of the stage, propping his chin on his palm. A warm, almost dreamy smile spread across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I mean, you're always good, and I'm always staring at you, but... uhm... You got it, angel." He chuckled softly, almost as if he was embarrassed. Despite his tall frame and intimidating appearance, his heart was soft for you.