The Downfall & The Stranger

Raelynn sat slumped over the bar counter, her fingers tightly wrapped around a shot glass. The dim lighting of the bar made the liquid glimmer in the glass, but she wasn't paying much attention to that. With a deep breath, she raised the cheap whiskey to her lips and downed it in one go. The sharp burn hit the back of her throat instantly, causing her to cough. 

"Ugh," she groaned, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, glaring at the empty glass as though it were responsible for her misery. She slammed it down onto the counter and gestured for another.

"How could they be so cruel?" she muttered under her breath, her voice thick with bitterness. "I gave them everything, and this is what I get in return? Fired."

Raelynn shook her head, the frustration swirling inside her. She wasn't the type to complain, but the whole thing just felt so unfair, and it was driving her crazy. How did it come to this? She had been doing her job, minding her own business, when the manager—who she had thought liked her—called her into his office earlier that day.

She had stood there, confused, wondering if she had done something wrong.

"Raelynn," he had said with a sigh, not even bothering to look her in the eye. "We're going through some changes here. Business hasn't been great, and, well… we need to downsize."

Raelynn blinked, not fully understanding. Downsize? "But… I've never been late, and I've been doing my best," she protested.

The manager had rubbed the back of his neck, his discomfort obvious. "It's not about that, Raelynn. Your performance hasn't been as… strong as we need it to be."

That was the part that stung the most. My performance? Raelynn had worked hard every single day. Sure, she wasn't perfect, but there were others who were far worse. Like Gina, for example—she had trouble turning on the stove half the time! And yet, Gina kept her job. Gina, who couldn't even handle basic kitchen tasks, wasn't the one being fired.

"I didn't deserve this," she muttered, downing another shot of whiskey, her throat burning with the bitterness of both the alcohol and her own thoughts. 

Raelynn left the restaurant that day feeling like a total failure. The world felt cold and unwelcoming as she wandered aimlessly, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. The familiar streets offered no comfort, and with nowhere else to go, she found herself walking into this bar. It was the first place she saw—a dingy little dive with flickering neon lights and sticky floors, but she didn't care. She just needed something, anything, to drown out the noise in her head.

And so she ordered the cheapest whiskey they had. 

The first few shots didn't do much to numb the ache in her chest, so she kept going, one after another. It wasn't easy to find work these days, and now she was right back where she started. Unemployed. Stressed. Angry.

Her thoughts kept spiraling, each one darker than the last. Raelynn buried her face in her hands for a moment, her long brown hair falling around her like a curtain, shielding her from the world.

She lifted her head, staring blankly at the half-empty glass in front of her. "What a crap day," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or just all the pressure crashing down on her, but the tears were threatening to spill. Her throat tightened as she swallowed hard, refusing to cry.

Another shot. Then another. By now, the world around her was starting to blur. Everything looked a bit blurry, and her mind seemed to be wandering out of reach. She could feel the warmth of the alcohol settling into her limbs, dulling the pain a little. Just one more, and I'll feel better.

Raelynn swayed slightly as she stood up from her stool, realizing just how much the alcohol had hit her. She needed to find the bathroom, maybe splash some water on her face. She took an unsteady step forward, but before she could make it far, a rough hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

"What the—" Raelynn turned her head, alarmed. The man holding her wrist was tall, with a scruffy beard and bloodshot eyes. His grip was tight, too tight. "Let go," she demanded, sounding tough, but the little slur showed she was tipsy.

The man grinned, and his breath smelled like old beer.

"Where're you going, sweetheart? Stay with me. Have another drink," he slurred.

Raelynn's pulse quickened, a surge of panic rising in her chest. She tried to yank her hand free, but his grip only tightened. "I said let go!"

But he wasn't listening, his grip almost bruising now. "Come on, don't be like that," he coaxed, leaning in closer.

Suddenly, before Raelynn could do anything, another hand appeared—quick and powerful—grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it back with a solid grip.

"She said let go," came a deep, commanding voice.

The man yelped in pain, immediately releasing Raelynn's hand. He stumbled back, clutching his wrist as he glared at the newcomer. "Mind your own business, man," he spat.

The stranger stepped forward, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Leave her alone. Now."

There was something in the stranger's voice, something dangerous that made the other man think twice. Grumbling under his breath, the man who had harassed Raelynn slipped away, sulking over his wounded pride.

Raelynn stood there, staring at the stranger who had just stepped in. Her head was spinning from the alcohol and the sudden rush of adrenaline, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say. He was tall, dressed in dark clothes that seemed to blend into the shadows of the dim bar. His face was sharp, with high cheekbones and eyes that held a quiet intensity. There was something… different about him. Mysterious.

He glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Raelynn blinked, her mind still catching up with what had just happened. "Uh… yeah. I'm fine," she mumbled, though her heart was still racing. She rubbed her wrist where the man had grabbed her, feeling a dull ache there.

"You should be more careful," the stranger said, sounding serious but not mean.

He started to walk away. But before he could take a step, Raelynn acted on impulse. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist. He paused, turning back to face her, his brows raised in surprise.

"I…" Raelynn hesitated for a moment, her words catching in her throat. "Thank you. For stepping in. I—" Her voice faltered, emotions bubbling up to the surface. She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. "You're the first person to be kind to me today."

She wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but in that moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to hug him. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the loneliness that had been gnawing at her all day, but before she knew it, she had thrown her arms around him, pressing her face into his chest.

The stranger stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he didn't push her away. Raelynn could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, the warmth of his body a strange comfort.

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him, her vision slightly blurred from the alcohol and her own emotions. His face was closer now, his features sharper in the dim light, and without thinking, without giving herself time to reconsider, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.