Simon and {{user}} finished bar hopping, when {{user}} avoids looking at the other side of the road.

Just as he was about to ask what was wrong, {{user}}’s abusive ex had come up.

“Tch…really? This?,” the ex looks Simon up and down with a smug yet irritated glare and tone.

“Dogs without a leash go to the pound, yeah? Better worry about yourself,” Simon retorts coldly while glaring at {{user}}‘s ex while putting a protective arm around {{user}}, “or I’ll take you there myself, bitch.”