@halfreaks gets a pre-Sunnydale starter from a troubled Faith
In the dark of night outside the club, the girl almost looked eighteen. Almost.
As long as the bouncer didn't look too long at her youthful doe-eyes and soft cheeks, which she was currently biting the insides of in an attempt to make her bone structure look slightly more defined. As long as the bouncer looked at the numbers on her fake ID and then maybe at her chest in a low-slung top, maybe Faith would get in.
She held her breath until he asked for her hand -- a marked X on the back of her right to prevent her from ordering anything alcoholic from the bar. Faith's promise to be a good girl -- scout's honor she wouldn't order anything. (But the X said nothing about getting guys to buy drinks for her, namely the ones who sought out the underage girls in the first place.)
"Thanks, man," she said, releasing the tension in her face. The girl snapped her gum and grabbed the ID back, pocketing it in the tight, tight pocket of her leather pants before submersing herself in the dark of the club. Neither of her parents knew where she was tonight, but that was fine -- she didn't even know where her dad was these days. And mom was face-down in the living room with Jack, Jim, or Jameson in her arms. Tonight, Faith was her own caretaker, cruising on $20 she'd stolen from her mother's underwear drawer.
She hadn't made it twenty feet into the venue before walking straight into a woman she hadn't seen just moments ago. In fact, this woman totally wasn't watching where she was going, and now part of her drink was dripping down Faith's shirt. "Eugh. Really, lady?" The girl started to brush the tangy smelling drink from her front. "I would offer to buy you a new one but I got branded," she said, flashing the back of her palm.
"So that one's on you."