The tequila hits the back of my throat, burning as it passes through my body. Music flows straight through my ears as my mind drowns out every last sound in the building. People chat with their friends, colleges, and lovers, the smell of liquor filling the air. Rough days at work are never easy, so I always make sure to stop by my neighborhood bar before heading home on these kind of nights. Although the atmosphere contains laughs and drunken slurs, it remains tense with the recent occurrences in our society. People come and go as I remain on my barstool, three shots in. Only two more until I call it a night. My eyes shoot up to order another drink, but I catch a glimpse of the man who has just sat next to me. He watches me, his eyes large, and a deep grin across his olive-colored face. I scoff lightly to myself. Just another reminder of the creeps in the city. The bartended pours me a shot, as well as a glass of water. I smile and nod to thank him before placing the shot glass against my lips.

"Bad day?" A voice chimes next to me, the same direction as where I was just glaring, stopping me in my tracks. I place the glass back down, wiping the small drop of alcohol that had fallen on my bottom lip. I sigh loudly, hoping the stranger can take a hint. I turn my head to get a better look at his face.

"What do you think," I reply sassily. He chuckles softly.

"It won't matter soon," he says, looking up at the news on the screens above us. "The world is changing as we speak."

"Oh, so you're one of those revolutionaries, too?" I roll my eyes, now committing to my shot. I squint my eyes as more heat enters my body, and I shove the pulp of a lime into my mouth. I can feel the man's eyes on me. And I can tell he's smiling.

"What's your name?"

"What's it to you?" I shoot back. He leans backwards in his chair.

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to make some bar counter conversation," he defends himself. I sit back, as well, now feeling bad about my outburst.

"Delilah," I say softly to him, now meeting with his large green eyes.

"A beautiful name," he responds immediately. I don't even know him but my cheeks still heat up.

The stranger and I speak for almost an hour before he announces that he must go. We walk out of the bar together and make our separate ways to where we need to venture towards. I never caught his name, but I think it's best if I kept it that way. I was never good at making friends, but this one felt different. I keep telling myself to ignore it, and that I'll never see him again considering we live within a city population of over eight and a half million, but something inside me wants to speak with him again. Something about him makes me feel like he knows so much more.