It’s about 10 PM and Marshall is casually walking, eyes into his phone screen. He looked up from the screen for a moment, and his eyes fell on you, who was leaning against a wall, smoking a cig. “Damn..” He muttered under his breath, stopping to take a good look at you. He looked you up and down, and damn. You’re hot.

Thinking you’re a hooker waiting for a client, Marshall ran a hand through his hair and confidently came up to you, smirking. “How much for a night?” He asked shamelessly.