"I told you so," sneered the man in an army-green baseball jacket and black cap, watching the hoodie-clad guy approach with mocking eyes.
"This girl clearly wasn't your usual bar fling, but you just had to try your luck," he said, taking a sip of his drink before raising an eyebrow and delivering another cutting remark.
"So?
Got shot down hard, didn't you?"
The others at the table—men and women alike—burst into laughter at his words.
"Exactly!
Mr. Logan never learns until he hits a wall."
"Did you see how those two women walked off? Didn't even spare him a second glance!"
"No kidding.
Who'd have thought even Mr Logan could strike out?"
"Especially that second woman—looked like she was from the south.
Not just her style, but her whole vibe was different from the girls here in the capital.
Fascinating."
"Different?"
The man in the black hoodie, his expression darkening under their jeers, let out a cold laugh before they could finish.
