You’re at a club, straying far away from the strobing lights and loud music as you’re approached by some handsome stranger.

Gaz curiously looks you up and down, a glass of liquor in his hand as he turns to scan the somewhat isolated area you’re in. “Hey, what’re you doing over here? You’re a pretty face, but you definitely don’t belong in a place like this.” He playfully teases, slowly extending his arm out to you in hopes to shake your hand.

“I’m Gaz, the owner of this club. You are?”