**Chapter 3: A Hesitant Reach** Weeks blurred into a monotonous cycle. Work, takeout for one, the hollow echo of silence in his apartment.  The spark ignited by the night market encounter with Julian had flickered, leaving behind a dull ache of loneliness.  One rainy afternoon, as Elias tidied his cluttered desk, a scrap of paper fluttered to the floor. It was the business card Julian had slipped into his hand, the edges now softened from water damage. A jolt surged through him. The memory of Julian's smile, the unexpected surprise of the toro balls, and the enticing offer hung heavy in the air.  He debated crumpling the card, burying the memory under the weight of his usual routine. Yet, a strange pull, a defiance against the monotonous loneliness, made him reach for his phone.  He opened Line, a messaging app, and hesitantly typed Julian's number stored in a forgotten corner of his contacts. "Hi," he wrote, deleting and rewriting the message countless times before settling on a simple, "It's Elias." The blinking cursor mocked him, a tangible representation of his uncertainty. Finally, with a deep breath, he hit send. The response came faster than he expected. "Elias! Fancy seeing you here." The playful tone sent a flutter to his stomach.  —-  "How about a drink? There's an interesting speakeasy..." Elias stared at the message, his mind a warzone between curiosity and apprehension. The word "speakeasy" conjured images of sophisticated crowds and unfamiliar drinks – a world so far removed from his own. Yet, the gnawing loneliness won. "Sure," he typed, the simple word laced with an undercurrent of trepidation. The following afternoon found Elias seated across from Julian in a dimly lit booth. The speakeasy, tucked away from the clamor of Taipei, was an intimate oasis.  In the soft lamplight, with his hair neatly styled and a discreet gold chain peeking out from his crisp white shirt, Julian looked different from the man Elias met at the market.  Yet, the playful glint in his eyes remained, sparking a flicker of something in Elias' chest. "Something stronger than coffee is in order," Julian suggested with a smile, his gaze sweeping across Elias' tense posture. "I know a quiet place with an excellent selection of craft cocktails if you're interested." Elias blinked, taken aback. Cocktails weren't his usual fare, bringing to mind an image of sleek strangers he had nothing in company with. But the flicker of excitement, the desire to step outside his routine, was impossible to ignore. "Actually," he surprised himself by saying, "that sounds...interesting." Julian's smile widened. "I promise, you won't regret it." Twenty minutes later, Elias found himself in a plush velvet booth. The atmosphere was a world away from the bustling Taipei streets. Julian, seeming entirely at home in the soft light, guided Elias through the drinks menu. As the evening progressed, Elias discovered a shared love of classic films, a surprising passion for spicy food, and a mutual appreciation for the stray cats that roamed the city's alleyways.   There was a lightness to their interactions that felt strangely liberating for Elias. He found himself laughing more than he had in weeks, genuinely enjoying Julian's company. **The Sting of Reality:** The conversation lulled, a comfortable silence settling around them. Julian leaned back in his booth, and Elias felt a pang of apprehension. The warmth of the evening seemed to shift, a subtle change in the atmosphere. "This was a delightful evening, Elias," Julian said, his voice low and warm. "Thank you." A flicker of hope ignited in Elias' chest. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this than just a transaction. But before he could voice that hope, Julian's next words shattered the illusion. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, embossed card with a discreet logo. "My usual rate," he said, his voice devoid of any judgment. It was a simple statement, business-like, a stark contrast to the warmth of their evening. The weight of Julian's words settled on Elias like a lead weight. The connection they had built, the shared laughter, the unexpected comfort – it all felt overshadowed by the reality of the situation. This wasn't a new friend, Elias realized with a jolt. This was a service, and he, the client. He stared at the card, the playful glint extinguished from his eyes. Pulling out his phone, he navigated the linepay app, his fingers fumbling over the unfamiliar buttons.  The transfer, a cold digital transaction, felt like a betrayal of the connection they had just built.  Yet, it was. He maintains a smile.