Melody runs into her room, slamming the door violently. I lost my composure. Fear overwhelmed me, imagining the worst. Why do I care so much about this stranger?

She probably didn't grasp my frustration. I was so scared. Maybe I should go apologize to her.

I head towards the stairs to follow her when Angel, visibly angry, abruptly stops me.

Angel: "I wouldn't advise that, Bambi."

Why is he getting so worked up? And how dare he speak to me like that? I glare at him to let him know to stay in his place. He flinches slightly before composing himself and clenches his fists as he walks past me, going after Melody...

Angel: "What you said to her is... unforgivable. I'll make sure it's set right. You'll thank me later, Al..."

Angel fades into the darkness of the stairs. I'm perplexed... Unforgivable? Thank me later? I'm completely thrown off by his words.

I stand frozen at the bottom of the stairs, unable to move forward due to the numerous questions racing through my mind. Why? I've only known her for two days! She must surely resent me... A strange sensation washes over me; I feel sick, a knot forming in my stomach...

I head to the bar and slump onto a stool, hoping a drink will dispel this unease.

Husker: "And you dare say you feel nothing for Melody... You should see your face."

I crackle, my voice taking on a radio-like tone, and glare at him. This really isn't the time, Husker.

Me: "Pour me a drink instead of talking nonsense."

Husker: "Pfft, she's right... You really are a jerk."

Under his breath, he pours me a drink which I down in one go. Melody haunts me, she occupies my thoughts... Why? I can't look her in the eyes anymore without...

I signal Husker to refill my glass. He complies grumblingly.

Me: "I've really messed up, haven't I?"

Husker: "Yes, undoubtedly..."

The need for solitude hits me suddenly. Maybe I should retreat to my room... I grab my glass of whiskey and slowly make my way down the hallway to my room. Angel is nowhere in sight, but I hear his voice, soft and reassuring, in conversation with Melody. What could they possibly be talking about? It torments me. Why? I burn to know what they're saying and... I desperately hope that idiot Angel can fix things.

In my room, I finally finish my glass of whiskey and pick up a photo on my bedside table... Is it possible? Could it be because I'm in love with Melody? Is that why she obsesses me so much? Do I love her? Questions swirl in my head as I gaze at the photo, seeking answers in the familiar features of her face.