[b]October 1, 2015 New York, NY 10:00PM[/b] The sound of tearing paper filled the silence, followed immediately by the pitter patter of rain. Roman huffed as he balled up the September page of his calendar and tossed in into the trash. It was just his luck that the rain would start tonight. It happened every year. At the same time. Ten o’ clock sharp. Ever since he was born twenty-five years ago. It was like nature wanted him to be depressed for his birthday, but, like always, he was going to make the most of it, rain or no rain. He swiped his wallet from off the counter of the small kitchenette in his dingy apartment, marveling once again at how shitty his place was for almost $3,000/mo rent. Cities were so expensive. But, unfortunately, cities were where all the jobs, bars, and women were. So in the city he would stay. He would just have to keep harassing his boss abut that raise he had been promised. Last year. In May. God, his life was going nowhere. “Happy Birthday to me,” Roman muttered, grabbing an umbrella and sliding his keys off the keychain near the front door. “Now, let’s go get wasted.” -- The bar was as crowded as ever. Loud drunks guffawing and slipping out of their seats, scantily clad women dancing for free drinks, a table of DDs sipping on sodas. It felt like home to Roman. He slid in next to two other men at the bar and called over the bartender, “Bourbon on the rocks.” The young man left to make his drink, and Roman took the opportunity—while he was still sober—to scout the place for any hotties. He wasn’t disappointed tonight. The women at the bar clearly outnumbered the men, and on the classic scale of one to ten, he didn’t see any that he would rank less than a six. “Bourbon on the rocks,” the bartender called, interrupting Roman’s predatory hunt. He slid the drink down the table. Roman took a long sip and sighed. He glanced back at a group of drunk looking women. Amongst them was a long-haired blonde with a voluptuous figure. [i]Target acquired,[/i] he licked his lips and downed the rest of his drink. He made his way through the sea of people to the table where the blonde girl was sitting. “Hey there, pretty lady,” he said, leaning suavely against the side of the booth. He flashed her a coy smile. “I haven’t seen you here before.” The girl turned to face him. Her eyes were strikingly blue and her cheeks were rosy with color, although whether it was from embarrassment or drunkenness, he couldn’t say. “Maybe that’s because I’m new to the city,” she replied. “Oh really?” Roman raised a brow in embellished surprise. “I’d love to give you a tour sometime.” “Sounds like fun, but I don’t walk off with strange men. I don’t even know your name.” “Fair enough. My name is Roman Sousa.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “And you are, my lady?” The girl’s cheeks deepened in color very noticeably, “L-Lily.” “Don’t give him your number!” A shrill female voice shouted over the steady rumble of the crowd. Roman’s blood ran cold. [i]Not her again…[/i] A short, Asian girl with blue-tipped hair shoved her way through the people in the bar. Her brows were knit together in anger; her face was scrunched in rage. She placed herself between Roman and Lily. “Don’t trust him! He’s a liar and a cheater.” “What’s going on?” Lily asked, eyes wide with shock. “This guy is a jackass, that’s what,” the Asian girl snapped. “He lied to me just to get me to sleep with him.” She turned to the blonde girl and placed her hands urgently on her shoulders. “He told me he was looking for a long term relationship. He even went out on a few dates with me, just to convince me it was true.” She glared over her shoulder at Roman. “He tricked me for almost a month before I realized he was just a douchebag who had added me to his collection. He was with two other girls at the same time, but pretended he was faithful to me the whole time!” “That’s terrible,” Lily gasped. Her harsh gaze was turned on Roman as well. “You’re a dick.” Roman shifted his weight uncomfortably. This was awkward. He hadn’t expected Cindy to show up here. She hardly ever went to bars. [i]Damn it.[/i] He couldn’t think of a way to save himself, so he just scoffed and walked away. Unfortunately for him, Cindy followed. “I know what you’re up to, Roman,” she hissed, trotting along at his side. “But I’m not gonna let you screw over any of these poor women. They’re not gonna go through what I did. Bastard.” She practically spat the insult at him. “I’ll be watching you.” With that, she turned and made her way to an empty table, where she proceeded to sit and stare at him with hawk like focus. There went his night of fun. Roman made his way back to the bar and ordered another drink for himself. If he wasn’t going to score tonight, he might as well drink himself into oblivion. After all, that was the next best thing, right? -- [b]October 2, 2015 New York, NY 5:00AM[/b] Everything was cold. Roman opened his eyes, instantly aware of a sharp, throbbing pain in his head. That was the only clear thing, however. Everything else was a confusing mess. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. He sat up slowly, nursing his hangover. How much did he have to drink last night? Why did his body hurt like he had been in a fight? How did he get to this alley? It was the first time in a while he had gotten blackout drunk, and now that he was feeling the pain of it, he remembered why he didn’t do it more often. “Shit,” he grimaced, rubbing his temples. As he began to regain his bearings, he checked his person for his belongings. Luckily, it was all still there. His keys, his wallet, and his phone, which happened to still have about six percent of the battery remaining. With its GPS, he checked his location. He was still pretty close to the bar, and with that, close to his bike. It was just a short walk West. He rose shakily to his feet, cursing repeatedly as his head pounded from the strain. He took a breath, and then took a step, starting the difficult journey back to his motorcycle. “Happy Birthday to me…”