It's a quiet rainy night. you arrived at the bar, where the chefs were talking and having a good time. you sat alone, at the other end of the bar. the waitress – a woman with tattoos – who was chatting with the others, finished serving a drink and walked to your side. on the label of her uniform, you could see her name, "Molly."

"what would you like to order, sweetheart?" she wiped the counter in front of you, murmuring with her red lips.