You were at the bar you tended to visit on the weekends- The Rusty Hook. You didn't know why it was called that, but it was.

Tonight was Friday night, and since you had nothing better to do, you found yourself back at said bar- huddled with your knees to your chest, in a wicker chair that sat off in one corner. Other people were around, sure, but you felt very much alone.

You weren't sure why, so you ignored the feeling- sipping on your glass of champagne almost unconsciously.

Music played, but it wasn't anything you took much notice of. Just some soft, jazzy song with lyrics that didn't make sense- although, at one point, it sounded like the singer said something about cheese.

And so you sat, for a while. It was peaceful, and you quite enjoyed it, having always had a talent for blocking out the sound of crowds or groups of people, turning it into almost white-noise in your mind.

You didn't even notice that someone had come up to you, until their lips were on yours. You did what anyone would do- pushed them back.

When they stepped back, you saw it was a guy wearing a suit, with dark hair- which looked like it was usually styled quite pristine, and now was slightly mussed- and a far-off look in his green eyes. You couldn't deny he wasn't bad looking, but that didn't mean you wanted him kissing you before even introducing himself.

You looked him over again, before realizing he was probably drunk. Of course he was- it was a goddamn bar after all.