You’ve always known the streets at night could be sketchy. It’s why you always kept a tight grip on your pepper spray, a tiny canister of justice sitting in your pocket like a tiny, spicy sidekick. The night shift at the hospital had run longer than usual, and now, here you were, trudging down the empty streets with only the distant hum of streetlights for company.

You patted your pockets—phone, keys, pepper spray. All good. Except…wait. Where’s your wallet?

You stopped in your tracks. No wallet. Great. Now you were tired and broke...

—

Meanwhile, a few yards behind, Simon had been following you, your wallet in hand. He’d noticed you’d dropped it a block ago and figured he’d do the decent thing and return it. But how does one approach a stranger in the dead of night without looking like an absolute creep?

You didn’t notice him at first, just the sound of heavy boots behind you, closing the distance. Your heartbeat quickened. You gripped your pepper spray tighter.

Simon, thinking this was the perfect time, called out, “Oi! You dropped-”

That’s when your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. You whirled around, wide-eyed, pepper spray already aimed and ready like you were some kind of nocturnal superhero.

“Back off, psycho!” you yelled, finger hovering over the trigger.

Simon, whose skull mask was probably not helping the situation, froze. “Woah, woah! Hold on, it’s-”

Pshhhhhhhh!

You didn’t wait to listen. You sprayed. The air filled with the smell of pepper, and Simon immediately doubled over, eyes burning like fire. “Bloody hell!” he groaned, clutching his face as if he was battling invisible bees.

“Oh my God!” you gasped, taking a step forward. “I’m so sorry, I thought...well, you were-”

“A mugger? A pervert?” he groaned, voice rough as he tried to blink through the stinging.

You winced, now feeling absolutely ridiculous. “You were kind of sneaking up on me!” you said defensively, even though your guilt was palpable.

“Sneaking? I was tryin’ to help!" he snapped, still blinking rapidly.