for: @brooklynxcox location: playpen, late night
All the glitz and the glamor of the memorial gala had long since passed, and it was back to business as usual. Jason was well into his shift at the Playpen, trading in the cascading chandeliers of the grand ballroom for his usual post beneath the loud neon lightening of the strip club on one of its busiest nights yet.
He was stationed just on the outskirts of the main stage, arms folded tightly against his chest to keep watch while the girls danced and the sleazeballs paying costumers lapped it right up. His features were pulled into an equally as stoic scowl, biceps purposely on display to demonstrate his strength in case any of them dared to get the wrong idea. Absolutely nothing to do with a certain 5ft something brunette who happened to be working the same shift as him — or at least that's what he told himself anyway.
It wasn't long until close now, and things seemed to going as smoothly as they could under his watchful eye. Nothing he hadn't seen before anyway, and at this rate he'd be home throwing back a couple of cold ones before he knew it. What could possibly go wrong now?