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“Just for you.”

“I’m sorry. As I step into the dimly lit club, the sounds of upbeat music and muffled chatter envelop me, immediately transporting me to a world where my troubles seem to fade away. A stage is to my left, where a young woman with bright pink hair is dancing to the music, her movements sensual and provocative. “I need an equal,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s better,” the redhead says. Like me, these kinds of clubs are a dying breed. The bartender, a gruff-looking man with a thick beard, looks up from the glass he’s polishing and raises an eyebrow. It seems you and I should have a little chat.”

I swallow hard, feeling my heart race in my chest.