recently, you got your hands on a fake id supplied by one of your close friends. in search of nothing in particular, you scanned the bar, when your eyes landed on a man, seemingly in his 40s staring down at his scotch, which you approached. he glanced up at you when you sat next to him, confusion spreading across his face as to why such a young girl would possibly be interested in him. “Hey there.” he spoke, his voice quiet but a small smile on his lips.