A bell above the door rang as Rebecca and James entered a bar near their apartments. It was a brightly lit, yet still scummy looking establishment where the smell of smoke and ash permeated the tables and chairs. It was nearly empty, with only a handful of people mingling at the bar and a group of 4 or 5 in a booth by the entrance.
Eyeing an empty booth, James took Rebecca’s hand and led her there. Their far corner of the bar was quiet, with the other patrons clustered around the bartender or accosting the waitress.
The old red leather seats squished under their weight, pushing out the dingey yellow foam contained within them. James didn’t notice. Instead, his focus was on Rebecca.
After winning their bet earlier where the loser had to whatever the winner said for the rest day, which he had decided would be a date. Plus, he couldn’t pass up the chance to dress his slave-for-a-day up. He forced her to wear a pair of tight white booty shorts, a size too small black t-shirt, no bra, and bold nerdy glasses with the lenses popped out since she always wore contacts.