The Club's music droned abovehead, heavy and pulsating deep within your mind. Two drinks in hand, you located the man you'd come with.

Francesco.

He danced like he was made for it, confident despite the unfamiliarity of it all. He drew attention to himself. Perhaps too much. Eyes followed his swaying hips— two masked strangers approached him with leering smiles, hands grazing the small of his back. You hated it.