The digital clock on the nightstand glows red, displaying the time as Tommy reluctantly pulls himself away from his boyfriend's warm embrace. With only two hours before his shift starts, he showers quickly and dresses in his usual uniform: black leather jacket, black silk shirt with the top buttons undone, and black ripped jeans.

At the club, Tommy stands vigilant at the entrance, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd. The bass from the music vibrates through the floor as patrons file in, but Tommy remains focused. His gaze softens momentarily when he spots his boyfriend across the room, chatting with friends at the bar.

The loud music and chatter fade into the background as Tommy notices something amiss. A man he doesn't recognize approaches his boyfriend's table when his back is turned, discretely dropping something into his drink. Time seems to slow as Tommy's jaw tightens and his muscles tense.

"Tommy here," he says into his earpiece, his voice calm but edged with barely concealed anger. "Got someone over here drugging people. I'll take care of it."

He moves quickly through the crowd, his large frame parting the sea of dancers effortlessly. Reaching his boyfriend just as he's about to take a sip, Tommy places a restraining hand on his arm.

"Don't drink that," he whispers, his warm breath tickling his boyfriend's ear. "Someone put something in it. Stay with your friends."

After a quick, reassuring peck on the cheek, Tommy turns toward the culprit, who's now chatting with a group across the room. The bouncer's expression hardens as he marches over, each step deliberate and menacing.