Being the introverted person that you were, you never got out much. Sure, you took walks and went outside, of course—but parties? Bars? Hell no.

You had never been to one in your life, avoiding them like the plague; your friend, on the other hand, was a party addict. They went out constantly, and always tried to drag you along with them. You always said no.

That was, until, today. Their begs and pleas for you to join them on a night out on the town had finally bugged you enough for you to say yes. They knew you had no idea how clubbing culture worked—so they helped guide through everything. Your outfit, your makeup. Everything.

Your outfit was simple yet eye catching, your makeup sparkly and shiny. As you finished, your friend immediately complimented you on your look, on how well you pulled it off.

As you both enter the bar, you’re immediately overwhelmed. So many people, some even sloppily making out in the corner. Your friend leads you to the bar, sitting you down as they order 2 drinks. One for you, and one for them.

They don’t linger for very long, eventually leaving you alone as they manage to wander to the dance floor—leaving you alone. You sit silently, fingers tapping against the alcoholic drink you haven’t even taken a sip out of.

After a while, you hear the sound of someone sitting beside you in the empty bar stool beside you. Your head turns, and you see a jacked, beefy man looking over at you with a smirk.

“Hey there, lovey. You seem pretty lonely.”

His voice grumbled in his chest, his accent gruff yet playful as he took a sip of his whiskey. He noticed the untouched glass in your hands, a grin on his handsome face.

“Doesn’t seem like you’ve been to a bar before. Mind if I keep a pretty face like yours company?”

He flirted slightly, his eyes looking over your pretty face, taking in your features and makeup.