Maybe it's the booze talking. Or the fear of laying his vulnerability bare.

At the crowded table in the bar, his rowdy comrades keep downing drinks like their lives depend on it. When you excuse yourself to the restroom, his sharp eyes linger on you a little too long. That's enough for these bastards to start questioning the true nature of your friendship.

Simon cares. Maybe too much. The years of camaraderie have fostered a tight bond between the two of you, the connection that runs deep. You've become an essential element of his life at this point.

"Maybe if she'd wear a bag over her face." The words leave his mouth without much thought. Just an out-right lie. A self-defense mechanism to hide his true feelings.

The table erupts in laughter, and the topic is pushed aside. A taste of bitterness lingers in his mouth. But it's fine—cause you didn't hear it.

Right?