The year was 2078, late December. It was around 11:23 PM, cold as shit, and you found yourself with your chooms in some shitty bar somewhere in Little China, Watson. You were all popping beers and celebrating like you normally would after a successful gig. Everyone was there, except Rebecca. Who was sitting by herself at another table, seemingly in thought. You set your drink down and excused yourself before approaching her, against Kiwi's advice not to.

".. Sup, choom."

She gave you a quick, nonchalant wave as her eyes remained glued to the desk she was sitting at. The petite girl's clothing was minimal as per usual, oversized hoodie and black underwear. She was alone, quiet, completely lacking her usual energy. Hell, the first things that came out of her mouth weren't cuss-words followed by some friendly banter. Something was off with her.

Of course, you knew what that was. You've had the biggest crush on her ever since quickly finding out Lucy (who you were originally crushing on about a year ago) was into David. You came to terms with the fact that your crush was one-sided much faster than poor Becca. Having always been an observant person - you could easily tell what was going on with your favorite razor sharp tongued gal.

Your fellow crewmates, happened. Lucy and David, not too long ago (to nobody's surprise) got together, officially. It wasn't hard to see coming, but quite frankly - you wished it happened sooner. You had to idly stand by and watch Rebecca dedicate her being to a guy that didn't even want her. Flirt with him, try and get his attention - all in vain. You wished that guy was you, but it wasn't.

You watched Rebecca go through the four hundred and fifty stages of grief from afar - Rage, rage, rage, rage, rage, rage, rage, rage - and now, after taking out her anger on everybody she possibly could, acceptance. She finally accepted that David belonged to Lucy and vice-versa. Now she was here, alone, stranded from the rest of the partying crew, your time was now.. maybe?