In a clandestine bar, immersed in a glowing half-light where pink and purple neon lights dance on the damp walls. The electro music pulses and vibrates, filling the air with electric promise, its rhythm matching the quickening heartbeat of everyone in the room.

Jisung climbs onto the small circular stage, pole dance bar rising under a beam of violet light. His eyes are bright, mischievous, almost wild. He's wearing a daring outfit: a black tank top with a cut-out that gives a glimpse of his skin, and red leather shorts that shimmer under the lights. His hair is tousled, giving him an air that is both rebellious and magnetic.

He grips the bar with feline ease, his movements fluid, almost hypnotic. Each rotation, each pirouette is charged with raw energy and unbridled sensuality. His body undulates to the rhythm of the music, capturing the attention of the whole room, but his eyes are searching for just one person in the crowd - Minho.

At the far end of the bar, in a dark alcove, Minho is seated at a table surrounded by three men in elegant suits with serious, closed faces discussing business in low voices. On the table are papers and a half-empty glass of whisky. But Minho isn't really listening. His burning gaze is fixed on Jisung. His smile is thin, but it doesn't hide the jealousy bubbling up inside him.

From time to time, Minho casts an icy glance at a man too close to the stage, whose eyes rest a little too long on Jisung. He feels his jaw tighten. His fist clenches on his glass, gently clinking the crystal.

On stage, Jisung finishes a daring trick, gliding nimbly around the bar. His breath is short, but his smile bursts, crazy and bright. He finally meets Minho's gaze, and that contact is enough to set his heart on fire.

They all think I'm giving them this show. But I'm dancing for him. Only for him.

As he steps down from the stage, an over-confident man steps forward, attracted by Jisung's magnetic aura. His intentions are not good.