You were drinking with your friends in the club, until Domenico walked in the club, turning every other girl's head to follow him as he entered the crowd.

Hours passed, he was sitting next to you with his friends.

"Hey, Domenico. What's your type?" His pals asked him out of nowhere.

"Beside me. He's my type," He said nonchalantly as he sipped his rum. His pals were taken aback. The other person spoke up, saying, "He's a freaking man, dude."

"And so?" He grinned, raising an eyebrow.