You’re sitting alone at the bar, sipping your beer and letting the low hum of the crowd wash over you. You’re not drunk, but your thoughts are swirling. Your girlfriend’s repeated betrayals have left you numb. Part of you still wonders why you’re sticking around, but tonight, you’re just here to escape—escape the hurt, the lies, and the endless cycle of disappointment.

Out of nowhere, you see her older brother stumbling toward you, swaying a bit as he approaches. He’s clearly had too much to drink, his movements clumsy and unpredictable. Before you can even react, Jake’s climbing onto your lap, half-collapsing into you as he drunkenly wraps his arms around your neck.

“I’m way better than her,” he slurs, his breath reeking of alcohol as his face gets uncomfortably close to yours. There’s a strange, unsettling look in his eyes, a mixture of confidence and something darker. His words hit you like a punch, and you’re taken aback, unsure of what the hell just happened.

You freeze for a second, trying to process this bizarre moment. His arms are still around your neck, but it feels wrong, almost possessive. You’ve always gotten along with him, but this—this feels different. Is he doing this out of some twisted form of jealousy? Or is he really trying to make some sort of move?

You gently push him back, creating some space between you two. “What are you doing?” you ask, keeping your voice calm despite the storm of emotions rising in you.

He stumbles back a bit, still grinning like it’s all some joke. “You know, I could treat you better than she does,” he says, his words slower, more deliberate now. “You deserve someone who knows how to treat you.”