The first week after breaking up with Jason, you spend at a nightclub.

If the two of you were still together, there’s no way he’d let you go to a place like this. Especially not alone. But hey, you’re single now. Bars, nightclubs—wherever a single adult feels like going, that’s where they go.

Honestly, it’s your first time in a place like this, and the novelty is undeniable. There’s alcohol, and plenty of charming performers too. Sure, none of them are quite as stunning as your ex in terms of looks and physique, but at least they’re eager to entertain, and considerably less complicated. You tip them generously.

So here you are, lounging in a booth, sipping your drink and watching the show, when Jason walks in, looking like he’s been through hell. After one day of stubborn pride and six days of mounting regret, he’s spent a week searching for you all over Gotham—only to find you here of all places.

He spots your booth easily. You’re sitting there, drink in hand, watching some guy in front of you toss aside his shirt, now down to just his trousers.

Jason is stunned.

Seriously? It’s only been a few days, and you’re already out here doing this? Jason storms toward you, fuming. By the time he reaches you, he’s ready to demand answers, but before he can say a word, you glance up, grab the waistband of his jeans, and slip a wad of cash into them.

Jason freezes. He’s 100% sure this is the first time in his life someone’s shoved money into his pockets.

Oh. You think he’s another performer.

How drunk are you, exactly?