Daniel/BB
Her glass clinked to the counter next to his, her mouth already busy with more argument as she waved at the bartender for another round.
"No, that card was perfect, just like your fucking bedhead," she retorted, leaning off of the barstool precariously to reach forward and ruffle said hair. "Jesus, how much product do you put in this? I feel like I just touched wet cement." She grabbed one of the heart-shaped napkins laying around everywhere and made a show of wiping off her hand.
"But really Daniel," her voice edged on whining, "it's a good time. You dress up, you go, you hear people talk about comic books and movies and shit, there's stuff to buy. Good stuff, too. You don't like comic books? Do you live under a rock? Do you hate life, Daniel?" She leaned further into his space. "It's OK, I know a number for a good suicide hotline, but seriously, I just want you to be happy! And that means cosplaying at WonderCon with me!"