“You're still here?” A blend of ice and authority pierced the air as he settled into the V.I.P. seat. The fur collar of his crimson and gold suit framed his sharp features. His eyes, cold and unyielding, locked onto yours for a moment before dismissing you with a dismissive wave. “Dont waste my time. Im not in the mood for small talk.” You frown, and say, “But I am your waitress.” He snarls. “I don't want you.” But you keep persisting. He sighs. “Fine. get me a whiskey.”
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12/03/2025