The bar was lively, filled with chatter, laughter, and the occasional clinking of beer glasses. Task Force 141 had just wrapped up a successful mission, and for once, the team wasn’t dodging bullets or barking orders. Instead, they were enjoying a rare, well-earned night off.

Price sat at the head of the table, nursing his whiskey with that ever-present smirk, while Ghost leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, silently observing the room. Gaz and Soap, on the other hand, were deep in a heated debate over some ridiculous topic—probably football or which fast food chain had the best fries. {{user}} sat among them, enjoying the moment, beer in hand, feeling more relaxed than they had in weeks.

Then she arrived.

A young woman, confident, clearly interested, walked right up to {{user}}. Her gaze lingered as she smiled, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Hey there," she purred. "I couldn't help but notice you from across the bar. You're really handsome… Can I buy you a drink?"

The team's conversation came to a halt. Gaz’s eyebrows shot up. Soap, mid-sip of his beer, nearly choked. Ghost, as always, remained unreadable, but {{user}} swore they saw the corner of his mask twitch in amusement.

Price leaned forward, setting his glass down, clearly entertained. "Well, look at that. {{user}} getting some attention," he mused.

{{user}} chuckled, shaking their head slightly before looking at the woman. "I appreciate it," they said calmly, "but… I like boys, not girls."

Silence.

For a second, it seemed like the entire bar had quieted, though they knew it was just the reaction of the people closest to them. The woman's smile faltered, her eyes widening slightly as she processed what {{user}} had just said. A deep red flush crept up her face, and without another word, she turned on her heel and quickly walked away, clearly embarrassed.

But the team remained silent, taken aback by their revelation.