Money is the cause of all of Arawin Wanson's hardships.

　　Money, or lack thereof, is the reason why he works two jobs and reviews sappy romance novels online. Specifically, it's his father's lack of money that has put him in this situation where he feels like his body is running eighteen hours a day with no rest.

　　Arawin wishes he was born into money like his kind yet a little mean roommate. Or alternatively, he wishes he just didn't care enough. For a long time, he didn't, but his dad had cheerfully let him know that given his age, the heavy debt he incurred from his failed business would not just be his father's but Arawin's in time as well.

　　So, money is the reason that on a weeknight, after ten suffering hours at the office, Arawin found himself in a suit that's a little better fitting than the one he wears to the office, grinning at a group of ladies as he tries to convince them to let him be their host for the night.

　　They’re rather taken by how 'earnest' Awin looks, something that's been his selling feature. He knows it's code-word for simple but he doesn't care; whatever gets him a good tip for the night.

　　"You’re so adorable!" One of the ladies giggled as Arawin stopped a passing waiter to tell her to grab a bottle of champagne. His felt a little happier at that because being called adorable often leads to him getting a bit more tip.

　　"Awin!!" His manager is waving at him frantically, so Arawin tried to communicate through rapid blinking that he has paying customers.

　　His manager in response gave him a glare that said he has less than five seconds to make it across the lounge.

　　"Ah, ladies, if you'll excuse me…" Arawin mumbled an apology and scurried away, cursing under his breath. When he got there, his manager didn't even give him a moment to speak.

　　"You’ve been requested in one of the VIP rooms." His manager whispered, making his jet black eyes widened in shock for a bit. Is there any of his regulars that would be able to afford having him to host in a VIP lounge?

　　He can't remember; he's got a minimal amount of regulars, most of whom like to cheap out after the first bottle. A few of them barely buy more than a couple of drinks only because they brought a friend or a potential hook-up.

　　"The Golden Leather Lounge." His manager continued with a serious tone.

　　"Don't look at me like that, I double checked it was you that they wanted. They asked for you by name."

　　By name! In the most expensive lounge! Only expensive because it's actually a closed room and it's a smoking lounge that Arawin hates the name of, but still!

　　Then, he remembered the fact that he need to send his father a chunk of money tomorrow, and immediately straightend up. Doesn't matter who requested him; all that matters is that it’ll make his bank account look a little less desolate.

　　He passed Arawin a lean box. Inside laid two cigars, the expensive kind which you need to squint to read the name written in calligraphy fonts stamped on the side.

　　"The bottles are already in." The managed gave him a pat on his shoulder.

　　Thus, Arawin dutifully took the cigars and made his way through the busy lounge, wondering just who would book a VIP room and request him.

　　Arawin is awfully aware of his limitations; he knows he's not bad to look at, but he's no eye candy like some of the tall and elegant hosts. He's also not as cute as most of the hostesses, but he got the job anyways.

　　And apparently he got requested in a VIP room.

　　Arawin cleared his throat as he approached the double doors. One of the waiters slidded open one of the doors as he plastered on his best smile, one that kind of makes him look deranged but somehow works well with his 'friendly' personality.

　　The lounge is a fairly large room with a private bar and karaoke machine. The bartender flashed him a thumbsup as he headed towards the L-section black leather couch at the back of the room. The place is bathed in dark red and gold with random modern arts hung loosely on the wall.

　　A man and a woman in business suits sit on the L-section perpendicular to one another. And wow, he's definitely not seen these two before. They are obviously way richer than the regular clients.

　　They both sit, impressive and imposing in the yellow light of the lounge, both looking like they came out of a magazine cover page with their dark hair and sharp features. The man glanced at him with cold ember brown eyes, jaw cut strong and defined. It’s clear that his inky blue suit is expensive and tailored, by the way it stretches beautifully over his broad shoulders.

　　The woman, on the other hand, looks less intimidating with her youthful face and warm but amused smile on her cherry red lips. Her indigo tinted black hair is in a braid laying casually on her flawless white suit.

　　Arawin thought that for a moment, maybe they got the wrong place. They probably meant to go to one of the higher class bars, one where there’s someone more handsome who shares Arawin's nickname, Awin Wan.

　　Well, even if it’s a mix up, they’re stuck with him now! No refunds!

　　"Hello, sir and madam." Arawin set the cigar box down on the obsidian coloured glass coffee table in front of them. "A gift from our lounge."

　　The man shook his head, while the woman elegantly balanced one between her lips. Arawin took out his fake gold-plated lighter and leaned in, lighting the cigar for the woman. The man gave him a glare, his eyes looking like they have a storm coursing through.

　　Oh, maybe he got too close to his girlfriend.

　　Arawin immediately moved as far away as possible from the woman but stay within the not-offensive distance. The smoke makes him want to cough a little, but he swallowed it down and braved through.

　　"I told you smoking isn't good for you." The man rolled his eyes at the woman. Arawin almost fell to his knees at that smooth and low voice, deep and steady enough to match the man that it belongs to.

　　She laughed back and waved her cigar in the air. "My hair, my head."

　　Her silky soft voice would make any drama movie protagonist cower in jealousy. "You asked for my help, Sak, so don't complain. Besides, it would be a waste for me to book a smoking room and not smoke, right?"

　　"I agree, miss." Arawin played along with a smile. "What would you like to drink?"

　　The woman only giggled at her grumpy companion.

　　"Or maybe I can get you a gin or champagne?" He offered.

　　There's only silence for a few more moments, except for the exhale of clouds of smoke. Arawin eyed the couch, trying to find where to sit. He decided to go sit on the edge of the couch besides the man before picking up a decanter from the ice bucket and one of the crystal glasses on the table.

　　Then, he started to chit chat.

　　"So, what brings you two here?" Arawin asked.