It was one of your friends’ birthday, so you and your other friends had decided to go out and celebrate.

You were all a little tipsy, coming out of some bar across the city as you laughed and bumped into everything.

You were crossing the huge bridge that would get you guys home, walking in the middle because it was completely empty— serene. Suddenly, you heard a whistle, turning around to see who it was.

He had this small grin on his face, his hands in his pockets as he waltzed over. He had these black cargos and heavy duty combat boots on, as well as a white shirt and long, black torn jacket. You thought you knew him from somewhere— but you couldn’t quite place it in your haze.

He spoke up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment.

“Any a’you ladies got a cigarette?”