The VIP area

He ditched the blonde as he walk over to the VIP area. He had to find Mr. Big and get out of this place before it was too late. The velvet ropes coming into his vision. The VIP section was a stark contrast to the chaotic debauchery of the main floor—opulent, with plush couches and private booths shrouded in darkness. Only a few people are behind the ropes.

John tried to enters but get stop by a medium size strong woman. Her arms are jacked to the size of his thighs, and she's got a stern look on her face that says she's not to be messed with. She crosses her arms, blocking the entrance. "Password?" she barks.

Her voice sounds pretty cute for such a beast of a woman, John thinks, his mind racing for a response. He glances at the blonde who's been leading him, but she's already melted back into the shadows, leaving him to deal with the bouncer on his own. He takes a deep breath, trying to recall any piece of information that might grant him entry. "Pleasure," he says, the first word that comes to mind, hoping it's the password he'd heard whispered earlier.

"You wish jerk off." The bouncer sneers, clearly unimpressed with his attempt.

John's heart sinks, realizing his guess was wrong. He scans the room, his eyes searching for any clue that might help him gain entry. The bouncer's expression doesn't change, but there's a glint in her eye that tells him she's enjoying his discomfort.

He could try to seduce her, maybe try to beat her in a competition to join the vip section, or bribe her with money. But John knew that playing games wasn't his strong suit, especially not in a place like this. He took out his phone and pretended to text someone. "I'm sorry, I've got the wrong password," he says, feigning confidence. "Can you get Mr. Big for me?"

She shook her head. "Wrong place dumbass." She not really caring as John thought she could lying.

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