I was having a sh*tty day and yet somehow it felt like I wasn’t, since he was the only person to cheer me up. He took a sip out of his beer bottle and sat down next to me on the curb. The moon shone brightly on us, yet I couldn’t tell what he looked like. I took a sip out of my beer bottle. We sat there silently, swallowing beer like a couple of drinking buddies.

“Cheers to crappy people,” he said, raising his glass and smirking at me. I studied him for a moment and tried to craft a witty response that he would approve of.

“Whoever said people were crappy?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, and took another sip of my drink.

“Your eyes,” he responded, “and the fact that you’re drinking beer on a curb at 1 am.” He smirked at me, knowing he got to me. I wanted to wipe the smug look off his face, only for the sake of proving him wrong.

“You’re the one who sat down next to a total stranger and started a conversation. If anything, I’m a victim in this situation.” I cringed at what I said, as it came out of my mouth. He didn’t say anything but just chuckled.

“So everything is all good, sweetheart?” he asked me, lighting a cigarette. I hated it when people called me pet names like babe, honey, or sweetheart. The nickname rolled off his tongue so smoothly and he didn’t give a damn.

“It could be better, but it could be worse.”

“Cut the crap. People only say that when things are bad but they don’t wanna admit it.”

“Well, Mr. Know it all, I broke up with my boyfriend today. Happy?”

 I had finally forgotten about my ex until this dude brought it up.

“Very. Why did you break up with him?”

“He cheated on me,” I shrugged and acted like it was no big deal. 

“You can have feelings. I never said you couldn’t feel.” 

The fact that he thought I needed his permission to feel hurt was insufferable.

“I don’t need your permission to have feelings,” I snapped. I knew that was the beer talking but I didn’t say anything.

“Then why don’t you?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m trying to forget about that asshole?” 

I was almost out of beer and needed to go to my apartment upstairs to get more.

“Why are you outside during this time anyway?” he asked me.

“Well, I live right there,” I pointed to my apartment building, “and I just thought that going outside, for a change, to wallow in my self-pity would be nice. What about you?”

He ignored my question and continued to smoke and drink. 

“Would you like another bottle?” I asked him, getting ready to go back to my apartment.

“Sure.” We walked silently to my apartment complex. I opened my door and welcomed him inside. I went to my fridge and opened two more beers for us to drink.

“Are you ready?” I asked him, taking his cigarette and throwing it in the trash.

“Ready for what?”

“I thought the whole reason you sat down next to me was for a one-night stand.” He laughed for a good while before saying, “I’m not that kind of person. Unless you want me to be, of course.” He winked at me and then walked closer.

He tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear and whispered, “We both know that’s not what you want, sweetheart.” I was acting like a typical girl, hooking up with a rebound after breaking up with my boyfriend.

“Although I can be of that service,” he moved back and shot me another wink. The beer started to kick in and I finally realized how pathetic and stupid this situation was.

“You need to go.”

“What? Why? We were just starting to become friends.” 

“Do you realize how sad this is? I invited a stranger into my apartment and was going to have a one-night stand. You could be a serial killer for all I know--you certainly have the looks for it.” And right when I said that, I took a good look at him. Why didn’t I do that before? He had jet-black hair that was falling in front of his face, but not entirely covering it up. He had an impeccable jawline, and relatively fair skin, and wore a black button-up shirt with black pants. His eyes were the most fascinating. They were dark just like his hair and had a tint of mysteriousness in them. I snapped back to reality when he spoke.

“I’m not a serial killer.”

“Says every serial killer ever.” 

I drank some more of my beer and said, “I thought I was over my ex but I wasn’t. Hell, this is my 3rd beer today.”

“Then when I asked you earlier, why didn’t mention anything?”

“What else am I supposed to say? Oh yeah, my ex cheated on me. Isn’t that great?” I waved my hand around like jazz hands at the end of a performance. 

“Okay then, maybe you shouldn’t drink more beer,” he said, taking the bottle away from my hand. I sighed, and I knew I should have kicked him out, but I didn’t want to be alone. 

“You know what the real problem is? I don’t even know your name and here you are in my apartment drinking my beer. I mean like who does that? I do that because I have no friends.” I rambled on about how miserable I was, while he stared intently at me. He didn’t say a single word to me, but just his presence gave me comfort.

“Look, sweetheart, as much fun as this is, I have to get back to my place. I have work tomorrow morning.” I didn’t even realize that it was already 3 AM and I had just spent about 2 hours dumping all my problems onto a stranger. 

“What do you do?”

“Well, I mostly promote new products for companies." I looked at him up and down, trying to imagine him working for a large company, but I couldn’t. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” I didn’t mean to blush, but I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. He kissed me on the cheek and walked out the door before I got to say another word. 

The next morning, I woke up hungover but still sober enough to remember the conversation I had yesterday. Drinking and staying up the night before was not a good idea since I had work the next morning. When I arrived at work, I sat down in my cubicle and opened my laptop. My boss came over and started talking about the new project that I needed to start. My hearing was in and out because of the pounding headache that drinking and lack of sleep gave me. 

“You will be working with our new graphic designer to promote this new product,” She said, before walking away. I didn’t understand what was wrong with our old graphic designer, but apparently, we had to get a new one. I continued emailing people on my laptop before I felt a shadow blocking the light. There was the rolling of a chair and someone had sat down next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall guy with black hair. I turned around and faced my new partner. 

“Hi, my name is Kaden,” He extended his arm at me. His eyes were as dark as his hair and they had a hint of perplexity.