The neon glow of Gallery Nightclub pulsed like a heartbeat in the East Van night. Joe leaned in close to Kevin Bouzane, shouting over the thumping bass.

“Come on, Kev! Payday’s finally here—we gotta celebrate! Drinks, music, the whole vibe!”

Kevin hesitated, checking his watch, then grinned. “Alright, man… you sold me. Let’s do this.”

Inside, the club was alive: strobes cutting through the smoke, laughter and chatter bouncing off the walls, and DJs spinning tracks that made your chest thrum. Joe and Kevin navigated the crowd, high-fiving friends, grabbing a drink at the bar, and letting the night sweep them into its chaotic rhythm. Payday had never felt this good.