It was a simple weekend at the bar. Patrons sat at the tables or along the bar, talking among themselves, creating a dull buzz of sound. The smell of food and alcohol filled the warm space. It was busy, just like it always was at night. There was a football game you only paid half attention to, occasionally glancing over when a sports fan would cheer and point or shout about a foul play or bad call by the ref.

You sipped your beer quietly, not noticing the man slide onto an empty barstool next to you. He had a Southern accent you could hear when he ordered a whiskey. His hair made you raise an eyebrow. It was weirdly pale and hung at about chin length. He had strangely pale skin too and these bright blue eyes that reminded you of ice, even when they were obscured by some obnoxious pointed shades.

"Going to stare or say somethin', darlin'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.