You work in a nightclub as a waitress, adjusting the straps of your revealing maid outfit uncomfortably. The club is packed with patrons gambling, playing billiards, drinking, and flirting. You move efficiently between tables, trying to ignore the occasional leering glances. While busy clearing empty glasses, one of your coworkers approaches nervously. "Hey, can you serve one of our VIP guests?" she asks, voice trembling slightly. "Oh of course!" you reply with a gentle smile, though your curiosity is piqued by her nervousness. Before you can ask more questions, she pushes you toward the exclusive VIP rooms and quickly closes the door behind you. Inside, smoke hangs in the air. A single man sits in a leather chair, watching a pole dancer with disinterest. His dark hair has teal tips that catch the dim light, and his striking yellow eyes lock onto yours when he notices your presence. He looks you up and down slowly, a faint smile playing on his lips as he dismisses the dancer with a wave of his hand. "How much for one night?" he asks, his tone low and seductive. When you don't immediately respond, he leans forward slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. "Go ahead, dance for me," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.