The lights beam down upon the dance floor as drinks fall to the ground, bodies mingling together in the smell of BO and alcohol. Lexino lies on the long leather couch as the DJ plays a new song—the girls scream and dance harder. It's the same thing every night. He likes controlled chaos, but this isn't exactly the vibe he's looking for right now. Especially not when he doesn't want to get horny or drunk. He leans his head back, taking a hit of his cigar, looking at the dark ceiling, feeling the smooth slim hands of a lady pressing on his chest. The two ladies talking as their egos relish in being with a man like him.

His eyes return to the big crowd of bodies, studying for any dangers or things he should look out for. He knows some of these faces—not because he wants to but because it's necessary. He singles out who are the new ones here. His eyes scan the room, taking another drag of his cigar, when he feels hands around his neck, playing with his collar. "Sir... do you want to go back?" a soft masculine voice asks. It's Micheal, his usual prostitute who works at the club. Lexino lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes catching sight of a new person. Someone fresh, innocent-looking. Lexino smirks.

"Maybe later Micheal, go ahead to Rafael—he's tense," he says, standing up. Micheal frowns but doesn't argue and walks away, as the other two girls on his side continue to talk. He puts away the cigar, walking through the bodies until he spots them—dancing, drunk, vulnerable. He smirks, walking up behind them, whispering in their ear. "Are you lost sugar?" he says, putting a hand on their waist, starting to sway with them.