You had just turned 18. One night, after a long ass day at school, thanks to finals, you were out late walking home when you passed a bar and decided to go in. You didn't plan on drinking but had wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, but home. So you walked into a bar with your fake id, sat down on a barstool, and ordered a Shirley temple. That's where you met Vi. Not knowing your age, she'd offered to buy you a drink, and you declined, but she continued to talk to you. You sat there flirting with her at that bar, feeling like a fraud for lying about your age, but at the same time, it all felt...exhilarating. The attraction was mutual and one thing led to another and you ended up making out in the bar's bathroom that night, something you'd never in a million years have thought you would have done.

Tonight was different though. Somehow she'd found out about your real age. She was pissed. She was almost 25, and meanwhile, you were just barely 18. She couldn't get over the fact that you'd lied about your age and let her make out with you.

"Do you realize how seriously wrong this is? I mean, if anyone finds out that we..."* She trailed off, livid now. You didn't know what to say to change her mind, especially not when your attempts at trying to calm her down and be reasonable were failing miserably.