The restauraunt buzzed with the hushed conversations of its wealthy and exclusive patrons, and soft sounds of the beautiful ebony grand piano on the far side of the room. Dave eyed the man playing the piano with more interest than he cared to admit from a booth nearby, his slender fingers cradling a glass of scotch. He stood out from the other guests, who were all wearing mostly black tie attire, in his loud crimson shirt and sharp black suit jacket and tie. He had let his shades slide down his nose, allowing him to see over them in the dimly lit establishment. He looked away from the piano man to sip at his drink and become lost in his thoughts. So lost, in fact, that he had not noticed that the music had stopped. He was pulled out of his apathy when a dark haired man slid into the booth seat across the table from him. He nudged his shades back up into place promptly after quickly taking in the features of his guest. He was slim, looking rather handsome in an outfit similar to Dave's, the only differences being the color of his shirt -exchanging crimson for a slightly muted cerulean- and his bowtie. He was also wearing a pair of square glasses and a faint smile. Behind the square frames, Dave could see the man's vibrant blue eyes. Suffice to say, Dave liked what he saw. The man spoke up. "So, do you come here often?" What an average thing to start a conversation with. Dave grinned. "I suppose so," he replied, his voice as smooth as silk. "How about yourself?" When the man smiled, Dave noticed his buck teeth. He couldnt help but find them endearing. "Just about every weekday. I work here, but I'm sure you've noticed that. I caught a few of your glances." A faint blush dusted Dave's freckled cheeks. Luckily, the dim light shrouded his face and the man did not notice. "So you're the piano man?" Dave asked. The man smiled. "You can call me John. What shall i call you?" He asked. "Strider. Dave Strider." He said, attempting to woo John with a bit of 007 style. After all, he did fancy himself to be undercover this evening. John raised an eyebrow. "So, Mr. Strider, will I see you here again?" He asked. Dave sipped his scotch and pondered the question. "More than likely." A faint glimmer of relief flashed through John's eyes. It was there for a moment, and then it was gone. Dave considered proposing that their next encounter be a date, but thought better of it. He filed that idea away for later.
A few weeks later, after numerous meetings spent learning more about each other, Dave decided to make his move. "So, John, how about we call tomorrow night a date?" His shades hid his nervous gaze. John grinned. "Buy me dinner and we can call it a date." He said. Dave was relieved, he had been expecting John to turn him down. "Deal."
The next night, Dave put a bit more effort into his outfit than he had every night before, choosing a black shirt and wore his signature crimson on his jacket and tie. He fiddled with his hair bit before setting off for his date. He considered leaving his shades at home, but decided to reveal his eyes to John during the date. When he arrived at the restaurant, Dave discreetly asked the waiter for a better lit table for what he had planned later on. The waiter happily complied. After the two had taken their seats and ordered their drinks, Dave noticed John gazing at him dreamily. "What secrets hide behind those shades?" John wondered aloud. "I've never seen you without them." Dave fidgeted in his seat. "That's actually what I was planning to show you tonight." He watched as John's eyebrows slowly rose and neither of them spoke. Dave finally worked up the nerve to take off his sunglasses and meet John's gaze with his piercing crimson eyes, which matched the colour of his suit exactly. All at once he seemed embarrassed, averting his eyes from John and forcing a nervous laugh. He was met with a look of bewilderment. "What's wrong, Dave?" Dave put his shades back on and looked down at the table. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." He dismissed the thought. John was persistent. "No, tell me." Dave gave up, he knew that John would pester the living daylights out of him until he told. "I'm a freak of nature, so I hide it with these shades and play it off like I was supposed to be blonde." He explained. "I'm albino." John's facial expression turned from curious to irritated. Dave was confused. "Why do you look like I just insulted your mother?" John reached across the table and removed Dave's shades. "I can't let you talk about yourself like that, you're gorgeous. Your eyes are incredible, I've never seen anything like them. Why would you hide this from everyone?" Dave was astonished by these compliments, his brother had always told him to hide his eyes. "There's another thing I have to get off my chest." He was ready to confess what he had put off revealing to him since they met. "There's something you should know about me. I'm not exactly just some random guy who happens to have a boatload of cash and a penchant for fine alcohol. I actually own this joint." He saw John's brow furrow, but continued to talk. "And there's one more thing. I'm a member of the elite swingers, a 'gangster' if you will. I inherited the title from my brother, who retired some time ago. I'm sorry to lay all of this on you now, but I doubt that it would have been much better timing when we first met. Feel free to make your own decision about staying with me." John took a few seconds to process this new information about the painfully beautiful man he had become quite fond of in the span of several months. He made his choice. "I'm not leaving you." Dave let out a sigh of relief. He was expecting John to run off, just as everyone else had. John put on his most winning smile. When their drinks arrived, they ordered their food and had a nice first "date".
