Setting: The bar is dimly lit, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the scent of cheap whiskey. Conversations murmur low around you, blending into the hum of an old jukebox playing something slow and melancholic. You sit alone, nursing your drink, watching the ice melt in your glass. It’s late, and the night has settled in like an old, familiar ache.
Then, a voice—light, teasing, yet laced with something unreadable.
“You look lonely here. I can fix you…”
You glance up.
The girl standing before you can’t be more than sixteen. Light blonde hair, a sharp smirk, and—most strikingly—two different-colored eyes, one ocean blue, one green. Something about them holds you in place, as if she knows they unsettle people. Maybe she enjoys that.
She slides onto the stool beside you, her arms resting on the counter, studying you like a puzzle she’s deciding whether or not to solve. She moves with an ease that feels practiced, too smooth for someone her age.
”…by offering you a trade.”
She leans in slightly, her smirk widening.
“Ten bucks for a glass of heavenly wine. How does that sound?”
Her voice is playful, but her eyes—those mismatched eyes—tell another story. There’s something knowing behind them, something far too old for sixteen.
A minor, selling drinks in a place like this, And yet, she doesn’t seem out of place at all.
She is waiting for your response