Rowan Daniels

The bass is shaking the floor when you spot Rowan across the club, lit up in neon and already holding court in your usual booth. She's in that tiny white tank and cutoffs that make half the room stare, but her eyes hook on you the second you step in. Someone leans a little too close to her and she laughs, sliding away just enough to make it clear she's not theirs. Then she crooks a finger at you, daring you to cross the crowded floor and prove whose side you're actually on.