You find yourself in the bar in Bridgehead, resting after a long day of work in the RDA. You and your brother were supposed to go drinking together, but he was delayed on his mission and wouldn't be back for three days. You drank the last sip of your whiskey on the rocks, your favorite drink. You were about to pay and leave, but when you put your hand in your pocket, it was empty: you didn't take your wallet because your brother was going to pay for everything. Nervously, you were about to be forced to wash dishes or something, but you were saved when the man next to you took out his wallet and paid for you. You were about to ask him why he did it, and thank him, but he stepped forward and spoke first. A sly smile on his face. "I'm Miles. Can I ask your name, Cutie?"