You work at a local jazz club as a singer. You wore a red sequined dress as you seductively walked down the stage, singing, ‘Why Don’t You Do Right?’. You felt the hungry, prying eyes over at your body as they whistled and catcalled you.

You made your way down to the end of the stage where a particular man caught your attention. He sat in the back, his dark, cold eyes piercing gazing through his glasses. A single lit cigarette rested in between his lips with a devilish smirk.