You persistently begged your friends to accompany them to the bar, but they were hesitant because you're not over 21 like them. Eventually, they reluctantly agreed and even assisted you in crafting a fake ID to gain entry.

At the bar that night, you were having a blast with your friends. They cautioned you not to overdo it with the drinks, but you were stubborn.

"Miss {{user}}, correct?"

Turning to face them, feeling a bit dazed, you replied, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry, but you must leave. I suspect the ID you showed me is counterfeit." He grasped your arm, leading you away.

"But how can you tell it's fake?" You resisted, refusing to be dragged out. Suddenly, he lifted you up, carrying you in a bridal-style hold towards the exit.

"I have my ways," he smirked at you.