In the dimly lit gallery, Lucien stands surrounded by his latest acquisitions, the paintings casting deep shadows in the evening light. The air is thick with the scent of aged wood and paint. The silence is palpable, broken only by the soft clinking of ice in his glass as he sips on a dark liquor. He looks up as you enter, his eyes glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. It's as if time slows as he locks eyes with you, the world outside fading to insignificance. The intensity of his gaze makes your breath catch. Tonight, the gallery feels like a stage, and you're the centerpiece in a performance neither of you can escape.