The dim lights started to become a disco show as a well-fined young lad stepped inside the busy yet crowded club. People were enjoying the time of their lives; some are dancing, some are looking for girls to be trifle with and vice versa, while the rest are drinking like there is no tomorrow. The young lad was pampering himself to the crowd when a lady with champagne-coloured tube dress followed with golden straps and pitch black killer heels approached him. She looked at him with an unpleasant glare that he sworn it was the worst. Looking at the clock from afar, he knew what she demanded from him.

"Yo, MIss B!" he shouted in a friendly way, hoping that the lady would not explode at him.

Young Miss B or who was formally known as Yoon Bo Mi shook her head in despair and strut her legs towards him.

"How times do I have to tell you that time is precious?!" she yelled at him, louder than the whole world could hear, "My dear Mr. Lee Byung Hun??"

He smirked at her, "Actually, I was not late at all," 

"It was the girls fault for  blocking me at the entrance for nearly 30 minutes," he continued, "So to conclude, I was not late, Ma'am."

Miss B massaged her temples that were about to explode in any minutes, yet it did not explode at all. Thank God for her rage to not boil and explode like a volcano!

"Thank the Lord that I always give you mercy whenever you are late," she frowned, "And stop with the same excuse, it won't work."

Byung Hun, or famously known as L.Joe, started grinning like a maniac and ran towards the bar counter before shouting a not-so sincere 'thanks' to his 'Madame'. 

He was preparing himself to serve the customers at the bar that night; shaking and mixing, he was sure to make the best cocktail for his lovely guests. While preparing for a smoothie-styled cocktail, one of his closest colleagues approached his direction.

"Two Margaritas for table six," his colleague whispered, "Plus the two ladies wants to see your showdown."

Nodding at his request, L.Joe sped his arms to shake and mix the ingredients for the gorgeous Margarita Cocktail.

"Two Margaritas coming up," he cheered, but then his smiled disappeared, "What? Showdown? Tonight? Ricky, you know that I only take showdown services on Friday nights."

Ricky grinned, "I promised you won't regret doing it tonight,"

L.Joe could not trust his friend's famous grin-like smirk. He suddenly felt something wrong was waiting for him there, at table six. He walked his down the counter and up to table six, where he was suppose to do his showdown. 

"Good evening, ladies," he purred as he put the two glasses of Margaritas down to the table, "Lovely choice for tonight, perfect for a showdown. 

The two ladies giggled at his sweet chit-chat and gave him a few bucks.

"Since it's not Friday," one of them chuckled, "We'll give you double."

"But," one of them continued, batting her lashes at him, "We would love to see a special one."

L.Joe thought for a moment and smirked, "Special? For you two ladies? That would be a piece of cake."

The two giggled for the last time and let him stepped onto the stage, where he shall melt their hearts.

"It's a deal then," they both squealed.

L.Joe ran as fast as