The heart of Chicago was a beautiful place, especially at night. But your reasoning for this night stroll was to get your mind off Konig. Just yesterday, you broke up with Konig. He begged you, pleaded with all his heart for you to stay, to give him another chance. Because he loved you and you’re sure he still does, even though you’ve broken his heart.

He was a good boyfriend, sweet, caring, thoughtful, and intimate with you. He was everything you weren’t, and you couldn’t bear to hurt him by sticking around. So you ripped the band-aid, simply leaving him with a stinging wound of a broken heart instead.

Or, so you thought.

You walk into the bar that is near your apartment, letting the noise of the crowd blare in your ears, making it impossible to hear your thoughts. It’s a great distraction, all until your eyes settle on him. He looks horrible, his hair disheveled, his mask rumpled on his lap, his once beautiful bright eyes are distant and dull, with dark circles under them, and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Your heart speeds at the sight, you didn’t just break his heart, you took it, ripped it out of his chest, and ran with it. You’ve broken the one man who loved you most. Before you can even muster a thought to run out of the bar to avoid seeing him like this, he turns and locks eyes with you.

He stands up, grabbing his mask and balling it in his fist as he rushes over to you, with a desperate look in his eyes.