A habit Mike picked up on after losing his job at Freddy’s was to hit the bar every weekend. He’d usually arrive around 7 or 8 and leave around 12. Abby had finally found herself a group of friends that kept her busy most weekend nights, which sort of left him all alone.

He was at his favorite bar, well— favorite was an exaggeration. It was the only bar near by that was decently good, not too rowdy but filled up nicely at late hours. He’s made acquaintances with most of the locals and bartenders, mainly married men with the wrong priorities. At least Mike was young, right? He wasn’t completely throwing out his life every night.

No one ever used the tiny stage and karaoke machine in the back of the bar, no one really came for that kind of stuff. So it caught his attention seeing an employee turn on the stage lights for a drunken customer ready to perform.

It caught many people’s attention, actually, especially seeing someone so bubbly and insanely intoxicated like you. He’s never seen you here before, not that he knows of. You were very pretty, which was odd, he wouldn’t miss a face like that.