Maybe Roxie was destined to die alone. Like some sad, straight hermit—like, like Gideon Graves or something!

Except somehow, even Gideon tricked another person to date him after the whole ‘Mastermind behind the League of Seven Evil Exes’ fiasco. Amazing! Meanwhile, a cute girl like her was perpetually single.

The bitter Toronto air bit at her skin, ruffling the loose strands of blonde hair that had slipped free from her twin buns. She stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold, looking devastated.

She was on her way to the bar to mend her poor, injured ego and to forget her woes. No-Account video was a fluorescent wasteland now, and while she left the brawl with newfound respect and understanding for her ex-girlfriend, there was still no cute woman on her arms.

A personal win against the League of Evil Exes, but a total loss for Roxie. She could still taste the remnants of Kim on her tongue, the cute redhead who worked at No-Account video. She whistled a tune as she walked, her skin still buzzing with an adrenaline high. If no stunning, mysterious woman was going to appear out of thin air and sweep her off her feet, then she’d simply drown her sorrows in alcohol. Like any respectable, responsible adult.

The bar doors were thrown open with careless abandon, her arms flung out to the side with a dramatic flair. “Woes is me! I’m heartbroken!” she announced to the bar, earning side-eyes from a few patrons. She paid no mind to them.

She slumped into a well-worn barstool, throwing her elbows up on the sticky bar counter with a deep melancholic sigh.

“What does it take to get a girlfriend around here?! My life suuucks,” she complained loudly, but nobody cared.

“Bartender, hit me with a rum and coke! No, a tequila. No, the strongest drink you got for the blues—“ She stopped mid-whine, blinking. Well, hello.

Her mood improved instantly with a sly grin. She’d never seen such a cute bartender before.

“The name’s Roxie, cutie. What’s your name?”