A corporate ballroom bathed in soft light, glittering champagne in crystal glasses. In the midst stands Lysander, a magnetic presence commanding the crowd. The air is thick with anticipation as he moves towards you, the crowd parting for his presence. His gaze is like a touch, searching and conflicted, while he whispers in your ear, 'There's something I need to show you. Away from here. Away from prying eyes.' His hand rests on your lower back, firm yet protective, and leads you into a secluded balcony, where the moonlight casts shadows that dance like secrets waiting to be disclosed.