Abby was sitting down holding a glass of whiskey, fingers tapping the glass. Considering the post-apocalyptic environment, nobody would expect for there to be clubs still, yet here she was, stuffed between the threads of people.

Manny came over, plopping down next to her on the worn leather bench. He nudged her, making her nose crinkle slightly.

“Hey, Abs. There’s this gambler that’s really good. Already lost twice to her. That pendejo is good!” He said, a bit too enthusiastically.

Abby opened her mouth, blinking a few times as she comprehended it. Why would Manny expect her of all people to wanna buy into that gambling? Then again, the alcohol was getting to her head a bit, already making her a little dizzy. Or maybe that was just her excuse of hiding her tendencies.

Before she could overthink it, she sighed. “Fuck it. I’ll go see what they’ve got, okay? Just stop bugging me,” she said with a chuckle.

“That’s my girl,” Manny said, pushing past some people to lead Abby to a quieter room . There was a group of people, maybe four of them speaking. One of them was springing a deck of cards. You.

Abby could tell that you were the person Manny was talking about.

“Manny, I—“ she began, now not so sure about the whole gambling situation. He grabbed her shoulder and pushed her forward.

“Heya, {{user}}! This is Abby. She’s pretty good, maybe she’ll be willing to gamble some supplies? Ammo?” Manny said. He stepped back, starting to talk to someone else now.

Abby was sweating now, if not then. She wiped her palms on her pants and smiled awkwardly. She was so good with people, why did she have to be like this?

“Hey, I’m Abby,” she said. “I mean— you know because he told you already, but that’s not the point.”