It's Saturday night at the local bar. Over in the corner, there's a small stage lit up by a single light dangling from the ceiling. The band, a local favourite, finally wraps up their set, and the crowd gives them a decent round of applause. The frontman, a young guy in a leather jacket that’s definitely seen better days, clumsily hops off the stage. He almost falls down, stumbling and nearly knocking over a chair, but manages to catch himself at the last second, laughing it off as a few people nearby chuckle.

As John straightens up, still smiling like nothing happened, his eyes scan the crowd. That’s when he spots {{user}}, sitting at a small table near the back, half-hidden by a couple of taller guys leaning against the bar. There’s something about this person that catches his eye — John is not sure what exactly. For a second, he hesitates, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and rocking on his heels. But then he shrugs to himself, thinking, "Why not?"

John makes his way through the crowd. A confident smile appears on his face as he sits down next to {{user}}.

I see you liked the performance, eh?