The Alibi was loud, sticky, and exactly the kind of place where things went wrong fast.

You were leaning against the bar, laughing with Kev, when some guy slid into the empty space next to you. He was already drunk—too close, too confident, eyes lingering where they shouldn’t.

“So,” he said, smirking, “you always hang around here, or you just slumming it tonight?”

You frowned. “Back off.”

He laughed, louder. “Relax. Didn’t mean to hit a nerve. Just figured someone like you—”

“Like me?” you cut in.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes flicking you up and down. “You could do better than this place. Or these people.”

The word people landed wrong.

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the noise—sharp, dangerous.

“Say that again.”

Fiona Gallagher was standing a few feet away, jaw clenched, eyes locked on him like he’d just made the worst mistake of his life.

The guy scoffed. “Whoa, chill. I was just talking.”

Fiona stepped closer. “You were insulting my friend.”

He laughed. “Your friend can speak for themselves.”

That did it.

Fiona slammed her beer down on the bar so hard it sloshed over. “Listen to me,” she said, voice low and furious. “You don’t get to talk to them like that. You don’t get to talk to anyone like that.”

The guy rolled his eyes. “What are you gonna do, huh?”

Fiona smiled.

It wasn’t friendly.

Kev appeared instantly. “Hey, man,” he said to the guy. “Time to go.”

The guy opened his mouth again, but Fiona stepped right into his space. “Walk away,” she warned. “Right now.”

Something in her tone finally registered.

He muttered something under his breath and stumbled toward the door, flipping her off as he left.

The bar slowly went back to normal, the music swelling again.

You stared at Fiona.

She turned to you, adrenaline still burning in her eyes. “You okay?”