You were at a trivia night. Normally, you dominated these things––you were freakishly good at it, and always joked that if they paid hourly, you could make a living off of trivia.

Tonight, there was a new face––and this new face was genuinely kicking your ass at trivia. Head hung low, you had accepted your fate when she was able to correctly define the poetic term “polyptoton” off the top of her head. Nothing that couldn’t be healed with a few cocktails on the other side of the bar.

You’ve slinked away and are sipping on a half-good cocktail when you feel a presence beside you. You look over––it’s her, the woman who beat you.

“You played really well.” She muses. “I’m Alex. Let me buy you a drink?”