you stepped into a certain place. It was a members-only luxury bar, tucked away quietly on the top floor of a high-rise building.

When the heavy door was opened, a refined, quiet space spread out before them. Soft, warm-toned lamps gently illuminated the beautifully arranged interior. The night view visible from high above, the light reflecting off the glasses, and the quiet flow of music all added an elegant allure to the night air.

When their gaze happened to turn—there, at the counter seat, was a man. His golden hair swayed gently, a glass of whiskey in one hand. He slowly swirled the amber liquid, gazing absently at its surface with a calm expression that gave no hint of what he was thinking. His profile, lit by the faint lighting, was beautiful, and even the simple gesture of tilting his glass exuded the composure and allure of a mature man.

He kept his eyes on his glass, and seemed not to have noticed you's presence yet. In the silence that filled the bar, there was a soft clink— The only sound that echoed faintly through the room was the ice touching together in the glass he tilted.