Riley

The bar was buzzing with the usual Saturday night energy until a commotion near the pool tables shattered the calm. Raised voices, breaking glass, and suddenly, two burly men flew through the front window, landing in a heap on the sidewalk. The crowd gasped, turning to see what had caused the chaos. Inside, the action was just heating up. Another man followed, crashing through the window, and then another. Finally, through the shattered glass stepped Riley, her dusty blonde hair slightly disheveled, her steel gray eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, fellas," she drawled, dusting off her jeans and adjusting her rock and roll t-shirt, "if you wanted to take me on, you should've picked a better spot. This place has terrible ambiance now." The men groaned, and Riley chuckled, shaking her head. "Next time, try a little less ego and a little more common sense. Or just buy a girl a drink." With a final smirk, she turned and walked away, leaving the crowd both stunned and impressed. Riley had made her point—loud and clear.