He wasn’t that bad, he just had that kind of vibe that put you off, and you simply weren’t enjoying yourself. That’s what you get for putting your love life in the hands of dating apps, I guess.

He also seemed to have noticed that you weren’t that interested, and he wasn’t happy about that, apparently. He kept saying that he would have driven you home if you didn’t want to stay at his place, and he just got more insistent the more you said no.

Trying to get out of the situation, you said you were going to get yourself another drink, perhaps the prospect of taking advantage of a drunk girl would’ve put him in a better mood. Socials didn’t usually teach you life skills, but after hearing about the “angel shot”, you treasured the knowledge; you just never thought you’d need it.

As you discreetly asked the bartender, she whispered if you wanted her to call the police, but you shook your head.

“Need me tae take care o’ that for ye?” The low, very Scottish-sounding, rumble of the voice of the man next to you reached your ears. He kept looking down at his glass, so you kept looking forward as well. Brown hair cut in a mohawk, broad shoulders that told you the man was a unit; perhaps exactly what you were looking for.