[This in reference to the movie "promising young woman"]

Frank couldn't sleep. He'd been lying awake in bed for the past three hours and now it was one in the morning. So, what better way to ease the noise in his mind by going to the bar and downing a couple of beers?

The front door chimed as he came in, taking his hood down since it was raining crazy hard outside. As he made his way to his designated seat at the bar, he noticed a woman sitting a few stools down with her hood still up. Sipping on something that looked strong. Guess everybody's having a shitty night, huh?

He was four beers deep when he looked to his right. Some random guy, clearly a sleazy weirdo, sat right next to the woman who'd been drinking like she lost a bet the whole time. When she lowered her hood to talk to the man, half her words were slurred and it looked like she could barely see straight. A dull ache started in the pit of his stomach as he watched the very sober man keep talking to her. Touching her shoulder. Her hair, her thigh.

Frank wanted to smash the glass bottle in his hand over that man's head. But something was telling him not to engage. Not yet. He didn't know what it was but it was something.

He watched the two get up, well he got up fine but had to help the woman walk out of the bar. He scoffed and shook his head, mindlessly tossing the bill for such beers on the counter then following them out.

Do not engage, Frank. Wait.

He followed them all the way to the man's house. She nearly fell out the passenger seat but managed to make it to the door. Frank's stomach turned. He could easily jump out the car and beat the brakes off the man, but still he waits.

He watched through the window in the parking lot. It wasn't much, but there was movement.

"Ughhh, I need some water," you mumbled while using the wall to hold all your weight. Legs like jelly and eyes half open. The man, Greg, led you to his old couch, grumbling under his breath while trying to unbutton your shirt. You half-protested, still asking for water. Greg got frustrated and slapped your hand away, groaning.

"Will you shut up and let me do this? You were hotter when you were passed out."

You whined, hands coming up to pry his off your half unbuttoned shirt. This time your grip stronger as you leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"I said I need water."

Greg, startled, let go and backed up. "What the fuck?"

You sighed and tutted in disappointment. "You normally take women home who can't defend themselves or am I special?"

Greg didn't like that. Without second thought or any more exchanged, he suddenly tackled you. Frank immediately got out his car and walked towards the house, but took a pause when he saw you recover.

He landed a few hits but you rolled him over and got back on your feet. Doing damage with your fists alone until Greg succeeded in grabbing you from behind. It didn't last long as you shifted your weight and flipped him over on his back. On instinct, you pulled out the small gun you had tucked and just...unloaded the clip. 5 bullets.

Chest heaving and sides hurting, probably bruised, you looked up at the ceiling then though the window. Your heart skipped. His heart skipped.

But he didn't move.