A girl walks into Buck's, flipping her hair over her shoulder. The door shuts behind her as she surveys the bar scene: couples making out in booths and against walls, dim lighting, strippers on poles, hookers prancing around and clumps of boys and girls, a couple bartenders mixing up alcoholic concoctions... Then she sees what she came for.
A boy with blonde hair and blue eyes is sitting on a barstool, a beer glass in his hand. He's got a muscular frame, covered by a tight black t-shirt, blue jeans and black Converse. Upon further survey, she sees a chain hanging around his neck and a couple dog tags on it and a scar on his jaw. She smirks.
This is the one.
She walks over, suddenly a little nervous. What if he doesn't like her? What if this isn't the boy she's looking for? She shakes her head slightly, as though she's shaking off those worries and sits on the stool beside him. She feels her shorts ride up her thighs a bit, but ignores it and instead hopes it'll attract his attention.
The bartender winks when he comes over. "Hey baby, what'll it be?" He doesn't bother asking for ID, despite the fact that she's seventeen.
"Beer." She requests, ignoring his attempted flirting and turning to the towheaded boy. She bites the corner of her lip when she sees him already looking at her. When the beer is set in front of her, she takes a sip.
The boy finally speaks. "I'll buy your drink for you." There's a subtle smirk on his face, and she instantly notices how sexy it is.
"I should probably introduce myself first." A slow smile starts to grow on her face. "I'm Liv."
The boy raises an eyebrow. "I'm Dallas. Dallas Winston." The smirk stays in place. "Pleasure."
