Getting into the bar

"Alright," the bouncer says. "You're good."

You immediately feel a sense of relief wash over you as you head into the bar.

Club Mystic is hardly on the high end of bars in your college town. It's well known as a spot for students to party, including freshmen students. The bar is dark and the lights are garish and bright, flashing every few seconds. You find yourself disoriented in the chaos, but the pounding beats keep you on your feet.

You pay the cover charge to the woman by the doors and she stamps your hand with a big blue "M" for Mystic. The others all file inside shortly after you do-- apparently the ID's all checked out, or maybe the bouncer just didn't give enough of a shit to call you on it.

"Come on!" Mary says, grabbing you by the arm. "Dancing time!"

You don't question her suggestion and head into the depths of Club Mystic with the whole night ahead of you.