Barely Legal (Julian Casablancas)

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"I get off in thirty minutes." The bartender spoke to Janelle. He went by the name of Craig—grinning at her with lustful eyes.

"That's good- good for you." Janelle mumbled with laden eyes. She hadn't left yet, but kept an eye out for Julian, keeping tabs on his whereabouts ever so often to make sure he wasn't near. "I haven't gotten off in almost four years." She mumbled jokingly with a laugh.

She didn't want to go home alone; she didn't want to be around Tiffany or Albert, and she sure as fuck didn't want to speak to the beautifully broken piece of shit that had taken everything that once was hers.

"Wanna get outta here? Maybe we could get off together." Craig winked.

"That's what you all think, isn't it? That you're gonna be the one to get me there—to measure up." Janelle laughed; her drunken eyes closing while taking another swig. "I'll pass on the let down, but thanks."

The bartender turned around, ripping a sheet of paper from a notepad.

"What's this?"

"Your tab." Craig spat, refusing to wait for Janelle's reaction as he waited on another patron.

"Because I wouldn't sleep with you you're gonna charge me two hundred and fifty bucks? No. Fuck you. I want my receipt—my real receipt. I can't believe you actually thought I would have sex with you for some free drinks." Janelle laughed even harder. "I don't even think that's legal, that's like... prostitution."

"How much is it?" Julian spoke from beside her. Janelle's eyes wavered to see Julian reaching into his back pocket, retrieving his wallet.

The bartender's eyes widened, glancing between the pair—he recognized Julian.

"No, I'm a big girl that can pay her own tab. But this guy's trying to screw me over because I won't fuck him."

"Yeah, everyone heard." Julian spoke monotoned; his demeanor stoic. "So how much?"

"It's on the house." Craig forced a smile. "I didn't know she was involved with you, I apologize."

"Involved? What makes him so special—are you gonna fuck him later?" Janelle stood from the bar, snatching her trench coat from the adjacent stool.

Julian shook his head, watching as Janelle stormed off into the crowd. He took over her seat, finishing her drink for her.

"Hey man, I really had no idea, I'm sorry about that." Craig told Julian, but Julian appeared indifferent.

"How much was her tab?" Julian asked; curious to know how drunk she really was.

The bartender's eyes narrowed with a quizzical expression. He turned, flipping through a stack of receipts. "I think this one was hers."

"It's only seventy bucks. You were gonna charge her over double for not sleeping you?" Julian grinned with narrowed eyes. "I respect your scheme man, really... but I don't like it."

"Like I said, I didn't know she was involved with you."

Julian's eyes scanned over the crowd, looking for a particular set of big brown eyes. He caught sight of a familiar double breasted coat first. She was heading out of the lobby toward the exit.

He couldn't believe what he was doing; he was going after her.

As much as he couldn't stand being in the same room with her, he couldn't in good conscience let her leave by herself.

Julian couldn't live with himself if something bad happened knowing he could've prevented it—he couldn't let her go off into the night alone to get raped... or worse.