The laughter of drunken men echoed slightly through the old corn maze, golden rays of sunshine beaming through the green stocks. It was getting late now, the lamp posts lining the highway thousands of feet away flickering on. Far away, the sound of old country bar music could be heard playing in the rustic, junkyard themed bar.

Soap, or Johnny, snorted at one of the dad jokes on the sign, taking another long swig of his beer. He was laughing so damned hard and swaying like a lightweight semi, he’d nearly fell on Simon twice already. Price, who had been leading for the past hour, just flashed one of his infamous smiles. Gaz, who was just behind Simon, rolled his eyes.

After a long, aching walk, and one too many riddles, they’d finally made it to the end of the maze. Pushing through a small wooden gate, a large lit tiki bar greeted them, old trucks, cars, and shops stashed away in the background. Spanish and country mixes played on the old boombox, rusted over with time.

*Simon was too drunk for this- really. Sure, he’d only had three beers, but he was running on an empty stomach and the influence of three other drunk men. Those dark brown eyes flicked to the man moving behind the circular bar counter, shaking up drinks, the tiki posts casting a golden light upon your frame.

Settling him upon a stool with the other men, he just watched you. Interested, intrigued- and the feelings were simply because he was under the influence, right? Ignoring that oh-so perfect smile you flashed Price— the one that made Simon’s head spin more than the alcohol did, he slammed down some money for himself.

“Need a whiskey- neat.”