Nam-gyu didn’t usually bother to look twice at customers- people came and went, and he was only here to serve drinks. Though, you sat down right in front of him at the bar, and he couldn’t help but have his interest piqued- you were looking good, dressed nice and proper, as if you just came from work, and people working a well paying business job never came to shabby clubs like this.

“What can i get you?” Nam-gyu asks, hoping his voice doesn’t tremble. An angry woman had spilled her daiquiri on him about 20 minutes before you came in, and he suddenly feels very self-conscious in his stained shirt.

When you wave your hand for ‘anything alcoholic’, he makes you a quick old-fashioned. “This one’s on the house”, he speaks, hoping you’d at least look up from your phone at that.