During the next seven days, Frank went out to bars, clubs, and all kinds of social events, hoping to meet girls.
But every failed attempt only made his lack of experience more obvious.
"Hey, babe… are you alone?"
The girl gave him a cold look… and simply walked away.
On another attempt, Frank tried to improvise.
"Wow, I love this song…"
Meanwhile, he danced in the middle of the floor like a preschooler.
A group of girls watched him between sips of their drinks, laughing as he awkwardly tried to hit on one of their friends.
"Do you want a drink? My treat…"
They didn't even acknowledge him.
He repeated the same routine again and again—different nights, different women.
The result was always the same.
Failure.
"What the hell am I supposed to do?!" Frank complained, drowning his frustration in beer.
The place ignored him completely.
He was like a fish out of water.
This wasn't his environment.
Every interaction felt painfully awkward.
Every rejection, every indifferent glance, was like another small stab to his already wounded ego.
While resting at the bar after countless failed attempts, his phone buzzed with a message from Alex.
"So, how's it going, Mr. Charmer? Any success? Or should I start preparing the photos…?"
Attached was a picture of Frank from that summer.
Frank immediately covered his phone, looking around in panic.
But no one was paying attention.
His presence meant nothing to anyone there.
He sighed, already considering giving up after just one week.
For a brief moment, in the middle of his frustration, a thought crossed his mind.
That waitress from the other day.
Her offer.
"…Should I…?" he muttered.
He shook his head immediately.
"No. No. That's ridiculous. I'd rather die than ask her for help."
But then—
The photos.
Those damn photos.
Frustrated, he started kicking the air in the middle of the bar, throwing what looked like a childish tantrum.
The same presence that had gone unnoticed before now only drew more rejection.
Eventually, Frank left the club and began walking aimlessly, lost in his thoughts.
After a while, he noticed a lit-up place.
Without thinking too much, he stepped inside to calm down.
He sat at the counter.
Then he heard a voice that felt strangely familiar.
"So… you decided to come back. Faster than I expected."
When Frank looked up, he saw Elisa standing in front of him.
She wore a victorious smile.
Without realizing it, Frank had returned to the same bar.
Maybe guided by instinct… or just his own bad luck.
"What?! You again?" Frank exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Are you following me?"
Elisa simply pointed toward the entrance.
"'D3S Bar.' I've worked here for ages. You came back all on your own."
Frank glanced at the name of the place, unable to believe it.
"When is this torture going to end…?" he muttered dramatically.
Elisa studied him for a moment.
"So… did you think about it? Judging by your face, things didn't go too well."
Frank had a brief flashback of all the rejections he had suffered that week.
"It shouldn't be this hard…" he muttered.
Then he looked at her suspiciously.
"Besides… what makes you think you could actually help? You don't even look like someone who's had a boyfriend."
Elisa smiled, amused.
"I'm a woman. I know exactly what we like. Men tend to be pretty predictable."
She leaned slightly over the counter.
"You need to be different… though I'm not sure your face helps much."
Frank stared at her.
"…Huh?"
Suddenly, he slammed both hands on the counter.
"Fine. Listen. I accept your offer… but if we're doing this, I have my own conditions."
Elisa raised an eyebrow, curious.
"Alright… let's hear them."
"Give me a second."
Frank started looking around for something to write on.
The only thing he found was a crumpled napkin.
"This will do… for now," he muttered.
He pulled out a pen from his jacket, placed the napkin on the counter, and began writing.
A makeshift contract.
"This is a reminder of our deal," he said while writing. "I'll only fulfill your condition if you actually help me win within thirty days."
He showed her the napkin.
"But if you take even a second longer… this paper loses all its value."
Then he continued:
"And your only request is that I help you with your business, right? Nothing more, nothing less. That's all I can offer."
He looked straight at her.
"If I win… you win."
He paused.
"We're in this together."
He slid the napkin toward her.
"Do you agree?"
Elisa let out a small laugh.
She looked at the wrinkled, nearly ruined piece of paper with curiosity.
After a few seconds, she took the pen.
And signed it.
"Alright… looks like we have a deal, Mr. Charmer."
She said it with a confident, victorious smile.