Simon wasn’t the kind of guy who you brought home to your family. He was the guy your family told you to avoid as a child, and warned you about with stern glances and horror filled expressions.

‘They’re bad news’, they’d always tell you, as though they were speaking from experience.

And maybe they were. Maybe every single warning was true. Simon was bad news. From every inch of his being⎯to each ripple of muscle⎯seemed crafted to perfection with the soul purpose of intimidating everything and everyone that laid eyes on him.

He was the embodiment of sin itself.

He didn’t bend the rules, they bent around him. All he ever needed was a glance, and people would break. Simon used the reputation that hung over his head to his benefit without shame. He wasn’t a good guy, but he never pretended to be.

You’d been bartending the same bar for as long as Simon had been there. Every night, you were there. You and him never quite spoke, beyond the occasional exchanged words and silent glances.

You knew who he was; but despite being the nightmarish figure people described him as, you just knew him as Simon. He never once made a scene unless another started it first. He always tipped above and beyond the regular amount.

What you didn’t know, was when you weren’t there, neither was he. You were his favourite attraction, even if it was just from afar. You were the only one in the whole establishment who intrigued him.

But the chances of anything happening were non-existent. He was no good for you. A blind man could see it.

It was late, and you wrapped your coat around your body as you closed up the bar and walked out. Of course, it rained on the day you’d had car issues and were stuck walking.

You were just about to pass the motorbikes lined up out the front when a whistle pierced the air. You looked over, ready to chew the ear off whoever decided to cat call you after the nightmare day you’d had. But then you realised it was just Simon, and relaxed against your better judgement.

“Do you have a death wish, walking home in this?” he asked, arms folded over his chest and leaning against his bike.