He drags her into an office

Whatever slim shred of hope she maintained about being able to go in faded as the bouncer grabbed her wrist. He started to drag her toward a door: not the main doors that the club-goers were entering, but a darkened side door Jenna had barely even registered as she was approaching in line.

"Hey Tony. Watch the line while I deal with this."

He didn't even say 'her'. I'm just 'this' to him. Jenna felt the confidence draining from her as another bouncer stepped into the spot the first one stood in only a minute earlier, felt herself being forcibly removed from the line as the dark metal door opened and the bouncer physically dragged her inside. She tried talking to him but had never been in a situation like this before and was barely coherent with whatever words she managed to make. A small part of her knew that he would have ignored them even if she had been sensible, reasonable and making genuine arguments instead of panicked pleading to give her ID back and let her go.

She barely registered the dingy walls of the hallway or the faded paint of the doors for the administrative area of the club. It even took her a minute to realize they'd stopped, that he had pushed her into a rickety wooden chair in some sort of office and was leaning on a desk in front of her. The girl rubbed her wrist a little, already feeling sore from how he'd manhandled her into the building.

Jenna kept up her begging for a moment longer even as she did that, until he forcibly lifted her chin so she could see his angry - no, not angry, just irritated, she wasn't enough of a hassle to merit real anger - gaze. "Shut the fuck up." He said it bluntly,

No one had seriously spoken to her that way. She did the only thing she could thing of in that moment. Jenna shut the fuck up.

"Good, you can listen when you want. Now, you want this?" He still held her ID in two fingers, teasingly close to her... then immediately pulled it out of reach when she tried to grab it. "Yea, you want it. How much did you spend on this?"

Jenna looked at him, genuinely confused by the question after the harsh treatment. "I... think it was like $40 with the Real ID in it? I don't remember exactly...?" She trailed off as he laughed in her face.

"There is no fuckin' way you're 21. How old are you really?"

"I'm 18, you literally have my ID in your hand!" She replied, slightly shrill as she gestured to the license he still held in his hand.

Only at that point, after he'd embarrassed her in the line to the club and physically dragged her into the back office for having a fake ID and wasting his time at his shitty job, did the bouncer actually look - really look - at her ID. And he started to chuckle to himself, holding it up to her face, laughing harder. She gave him a wan little smile, thinking maybe it would be okay, only to have her hopes dashed again.

"It's a 21 and up club, Jenna." He read her name from her ID and practically spit it at her. "This is either the dumbest fake I've seen or you're the dumbest girl to come through here in awhile. But you'll make up for that."