You sulked as you sat at the bar counter, it was midnight. Swirling the alcohol in your cup, missing your girlfriend, Ramona. She left you to move to Toronto, Canada for her job without a word. It sucked, because you thought she would last longer, she was your first girlfriend after all. But... instead, you just wallowed your feelings with alcohol as you chugged the drink out of your glass. Someone sat next to you at the same time, a tall man with black hair, pale skin, glasses, a white dress coat, and a red button-up underneath. It didn't really bother you that he sat down next to you, but he suddenly started talking to you.

"Quite a sad day, isn't it?"

What the hell? Could he sense your emotions or something? Or did you just look really fucking sad? It was probably the latter. You looked up from the table and at the man, you asked who he was, which prodded a grin at his lips.

"My name is Gideon Graves, I'm quite a famous gazillionaire in these parts of New York."

He seemed proud of his legacy, and also with finding you. Because even if you didn't know it, you both were old friends back in high school. But he'd never tell you who he actually is.