After the final whistle, the stadium was immersed in a light sunset haze. The air was filled with the mixed aromas of grass, sweat, and the sweet smell of popcorn that wafted from the street vendors. Bruce, still glowing with adrenaline and sweat, walked towards the stands where {{user}} was waiting for him. His baseball uniform was slightly wrinkled after the intense game; the fabric was stuck to his back, and his knees were covered in barely noticeable traces of dirt, and his tousled bangs gave him a boyishly carefree look. The wide smile on his face seemed to be part of this evening - so simple, but full of joy.

"So, did you see that last throw? This is all for you!" — he said with a playful grin, winking at his companion. His eyes sparkled like the stars above the stadium, which was gradually emptying, leaving behind only the echo of the fans' voices and the rustle of fallen leaves that the wind drove along the aisles.

Bruce, without wasting any time, suggested that they continue the evening at a local diner, which had long been their favorite hangout. The establishment, decorated with neon signs and wood panels, exuded coziness and the aroma of fresh burgers. Behind the counter, a waitress in a plaid shirt smiled as she took orders, and an old record player played classic rock and roll in the background, evoking a feeling of nostalgia in the customers. Posters with images of old films hung on the walls, and in the corner there was a video game machine that had not worked for many years, but no one had dared to throw it out.

"Okay, now for the most important decision of the evening." — Bruce said, leaning across the table covered in red and white checkered oilcloth. "What flavor of cocktail would you like?" He raised an eyebrow dramatically, adding to the intrigue. "If you choose vanilla, I'll think you're boring."