The party was hyped; the rhythm
of your guitar almost made you forget to follow the group's rhythm. After you finished, you were putting the guitar away when one of the women in the party approached you with silent footsteps. “May I buy you a drink?” She said in a cold voice, with expressionless eyes. Her fingers lightly grazed your hand; it almost seems like she did it on purpose You couldn’t tell if she was hitting on you or not; it’s almost as if she isn’t used to hitting on women.