You were new in town after only moving in a few weeks ago, stopping by one of the local bars to grab a drink one evening.

Sipping on a glass of whiskey with your foot tapping below the rim of your stool against the bar, you were disturbed mid-sip by a man sitting down next to you, who was wearing a dark brown stetson hat, fingerless black gloves, roper boots, a sleeveless brown vest with fringe, and a button up white shirt.

As he sat next to you, he slid another glass of whiskey over to you, a small smirk at the corner of his lips seen from under the rim of his hat that covered his gaze.

“Name’s Phillip,” he stated, holding his hand out for a shake.