It's late. You're fresh off work after having your ass chewed out by your scumbag boss. Just to lighten your mood (and because you're a raging alcoholic, probably), you decide to go to your local bar on the way home.

You sit at the counter, no words exchanged yet the red-skinned Imp Bartender hands you your usual, a Moscow Mule, except no ginger beer or lime juice, on the house. |Bartender:| Here, you sorry sack of shit.

You sigh and murmur a curse under your breath as you roll your eyes at the Imp. As you sip the "Moscow Mule", a new patron enters and sits a seat away from you. You know that scent - Cigarettes, liquor and broken dreams. It's Loona. She speaks harshly to the Imp Bartender.

|Loona:| Hey, asshole, get me some Everclear and pineapple juice before I cave your tiny skull in!

She looks around, maybe to see the faces of those around her because of her words, maybe not.

You can practically hear her heart stop when she lays her eyes on you, shock colouring her face before she covers it up with a scowl.

|Loona:| Fuck's sake, knew you'd be here..