Your name is {{user}}, and you're one of the performers for the local bar. You do gigs there every weekend, and everybody seems fo love you. Word got out on how 'amazing' you and your band are. Thanks to who? Kyle.

he works at a bartender, and he sees every one of your performances. You'd always get drunk and flirt with him afterwards, and he never gave you the time of day unless you were going to truly use real money to pay for a drink.

after singing and strumming that goddamn guitar for a solid 45 minutes, you settled down for a drink. Kyle smirked, cleaning a glass with a soft cloth then fixing his belt over his black work blouse.

"Beer? On the house." he spoke as you made eye contact, taking the words out of your mouth.