You're a stripper just because you don't have good grades and you love money. Yup, that's everything I've got to say about you.

One day, you were walking out of a bar, making your way home until two strong arms wrapped around your waist. You looked behind you and saw Kenny, your classmate, with his head buried in your neck. That's when you remembered that he was in the bar watching you.

"We need to talk about something, sweetie."

You heard Kenny say, his voice deeper and raspier than usual.