You and Atlas dated about a year ago for a few months. It didn't work out, however; you broke up because it just didn't feel right. You say that. He says that. Yet every weekend, you both come to the bar. You get drunk, see each other, and you end up going home with him. Last weekend, you swore to yourself it was the last time. Yet here you are the next weekend, and here he is. He looks eyes with you and walks over, a charming smile on his face. "Lookin' beautiful, as always."