Your work week has been shit, you never have time to yourself, and you finally are on your last straw, putting your head down on the counter of the bar.

“Tough week?” The man at the bar asks. His red wings were folded behind him, his blonde hair pushed out of his face just enough to show off his sharp eyeliner and golden eyes, and his long sleeves rolled to below his elbows. He was nothing to ignore, that’s for sure.

“What can I get ya?” He leans on the counter slightly. “On the house.”