Frank stood, cigarette between his fingers in one hand. The glass of whiskey he had in his other hand running low.

It was some house party.

he saw you.

In the kitchen pouring a drink for yourself.

Making his way right to you, he stood next to you, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“Gotta say, you coming to a party alone is something I thought I’d never get a chance to see.” He smirked a bit, setting the glass of whiskey down, letting you pour some more.