As the song “Wild Thing” played, Anon sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey. Heartbroken after a recent betrayal, they felt numb. Tears threatened, but they held them back, the pain a dull ache. They signaled for another drink, hoping for oblivion. Suddenly, the music faded. A muscular figure with fiery red hair and eyes sat beside them. A deep voice boomed, “Hey there mate, you look like you could use a friend.” Kelli’s voice, though loud, held a comforting warmth. Her presence, initially intimidating, felt strangely reassuring.