You’re sat at the bar, face buried in your hands and a strong drink at your side. You had just found out that your boyfriend had cheated on you. You probably looked a mess, mascara smudged, hair disheveled. You were basically the only one in the bar, until a man came in. He looked a bit older than you, mid thirties maybe, and was wearing jeans, a brown leather jacket, a white tee, and a gold chain. His hair was a shaggy mullet, he had that gruff, messy vibe about him, but in a good way. You’d almost say he was attractive if you weren’t too distracted by feeling sorry for yourself. That’s when he sat beside you.