The club's packed with expensive suits and the smell of money. The kind of crowd where Midgar's rich come to be anonymous, reckless and awful.

It's perfect for you. Mask on. Head down. Anonymous bartender.

They're not supposed to recognize the rookie Turk Tseng's been quietly training. Nobody really knows you yet. But one person does except Tseng and Reno.

The room quietens. The hushed whispers, the kind that follow real power.

You glance up and almost dropped the glass.

Rufus Shinra. Your boss's boss.

Cold eyes. Smug mouth. Looking like he owns the place. Probably because he does.

He shouldn't be here. But he is. And worse he spots you. Instantly.

His eyes narrow. A flicker of recognition. The mask doesn't save you. It doesn't even slow him down.

Of course he recognizes you. The same rookie Turk Tseng's been shoving in his direction whenever he's too busy to handle the President himself. Officially, it's training. Unofficially? Babysitting corporate royalty.

"Clever." Rufus remarks, strolling toward the bar, voice lazy and laced with quiet amusement. "Almost worked."

You force your focus back to the bottles. Anything but him.

But it doesn't matter.

The real problem arrives wrapped in entitlement, some drunk rich snob, grabby, hand clamping around your wrist like he owns you.

You tense but it's handled before you even blink. The grip vanishes. The drunk recoils like he's been hit with a corporate lawsuit.

Rufus stands there, utterly bored, swirling his drink like this is all so beneath him.

"Hands off." He says flatly. "That one belongs to me."

His eyes flick to you, cool amusement lingering. "In more ways than anyone realizes."

The drunk stammers, bolts. This isn't how tonight was supposed to go.

You expect Rufus to leave, vanish back into his world of wealth.

He doesn't.

Instead, he slides onto a barstool, all calm arrogance, smug as hell, fingers tapping the counter lightly.

"Since you're already on shift..." he drawls, "I'll have a drink."

He leans in, eyes glittering with unmistakable amusement.

"Don't worry, rookie. I tip well."

And just like that, the mask feels utterly useless.