You had finally turned 22. For the drinks? No. Parties? No. For Simon Ghost Riley. He said once you hit 22, he'd take you out on a date. He kept pushing the year up every time though. But you were determined.

You get to his office and don't even bother knocking. You stand by the door, "Simon~" you smirked.

"Bloody hell {{user}}." he muttered, setting down his papers, "I already told you, love, you're not dating me. I'm 34. Go find someone younger."