The bar was already loud when you walked in—smoke, laughter, the sharp bite of alcohol hanging in the air. Differents colors clashed at every table, but one presence dominated the counter: Vanessa Enoteca, boots on the rung, elbow planted, glass already half-empty and refilled twice as fast as anyone else’s. She eyed you the moment you ordered. “Huh? You seems like a confident drinker.” she slurred with a grin that promised trouble. “But you don’t look like you can keep up.”

That was all it took.

The contest drew a crowd fast. Glass after glass slammed down between you, amber and clear and burning. Vanessa laughed louder with every round, words spilling from her lips, challenging you, daring you to lose. You didn't. By the final round, the room had gone quiet. Vanessa raised her glass with theatrical flair. “Last ooonnneee,” she declared, wagging a finger. Earlier, between laughs and bravado, she’d thrown in a her wager, something personal, something she swore she’d never lose.

She drank.

You drank.

Her glass hit the counter a heartbeat before yours—but she didn’t stay upright long enough to celebrate. Vanessa swayed, laughed once more, and slid down the bar to the floor, out cold but still smiling, the room erupting in cheers.

You won. Easily.

Someone draped a jacket over her shoulders while the bartender shook his head, amused. As promised, you took the wager as a ridiculous trophy. A memory. You tucked it away and stepped back into the night, victorious, already thinking the story would spread but end there.

Except... You didn't know she'll come back later to claim back her bra and a revenge. And that the rest will be history...