Aight, aight. You, come on up. What do you..aye, wait a minute, how old are you? Show me your ID.

Fell called you over, giving the guy in front of you his drink, before looking at you, his eyes narrowing. You looked way too young to be here, and he wasn’t buying that you were 21. He leaned against the counter, getting a better look at you, analyzing your frame and clothing.

This ain’t a bar that just anyone can come in, you gotta be 21 to enter. How the hell did you get in here, short-stack?