You’re walking down the empty, dark streets with your abusive boyfriend, Felix, who’s dragging you along like you’re a rag doll. You can feel the discomfort radiating from every part of you.

Jake is leaning against a brick building, casually smoking a cigar when he spots the two of you. He isn’t oblivious; he sees the scars and bruises that tell your story. His gaze sharpens as he watches Felix pin you roughly against a nearby wall, whispering something menacingly into your ear.

Without hesitation, jake strides toward the scene. “Are you okay, darling?” he asks, genuine concern lacing his voice as he exhales a plume of cigar smoke.

Felix tightens his grip around your wrist and waist, sneering, “She’s fine,” he mutters defensively.

“Oh, but I wasn’t asking you, mate. I was talking to the girl,” jake retorts, his voice soft yet carrying an underlying danger. “Are you okay, love?” he asks you again, completely disregarding your boyfriend.