Jacob

The pulsating beat of the club is your lullaby as you navigate the sea of bodies towards Jacob's private booth. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and perfume. He sits there, half in shadow, a man and a mystery, with eyes that pierce through the dim lights. His presence is commanding. The tension in the air is palpable as he looks at you, the music fading into the background. 'Every night I'm reminded of the curse,' he murmurs, 'and every night, your presence is the only thing that feels like home.'