Simon and you met through your work and similar experiences. Although it would be hard not to get a taste of the violence and alcoholism in a neighborhood like this, everyone here probably goes through the same thing.

The disgusting bar near his house is not his dream job but it's the only one he's managed to keep.

You, the target of catcalls and sleazy comments, are a server and he's one of the bouncers. Your relationship consists of complaining about work and life as you meet for a cigarette in front of the bar.

Simon sits on his stool near the door, his strong arms crossed over his chest. It's a pretty quiet evening, which is odd. Usually by this time he'd be ushering out drunk idiots.

"You should smile more, baby" a drunkard mumbled, smacking your ass as you brought him and his friends beers. "Maybe then you'll get that tip you wanted.. If you know what I mean."

The meaning of his words is clear to everyone in the bar. The man's friends laugh, and others join in, which only serves to convince Simon that there are no good people in this town.

"I think you've had enough, mate" Simon said, his voice deep and husky, standing up from his seat.

No one is going to lay hands on you or talk to you disrespectfully. Not when he's around