Roger sat by himself in the back of the bar, hovering over a glass of scotch. He stared down through his blond locks, losing himself in the dark reflection. He hadn't slept in three days, and he could see it in the liquid. He had large bags underneath his eyes and his eyelids continuously threatened to close. He took a halfhearted sip, glancing up over toward the bar.

A beautiful woman was tending the customers sitting at the bar, her ebony hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Her smile was nearly as intoxicating as the scotch in Roger's hand, and Roger felt a lump in his throat. She continued with her job, grinning at customers and wiping down the counter. Some of the drunk men tried to hit on her, but she shut them down with a kind smile and a threatening glare. Roger smirked, knowing that smile. He guessed that she was telling them about the nine inch barrel she kept underneath the bar in case of emergencies.

That was one thing that Roger appreciated about Sonya. She could handle herself and she was fearless, which got her into some trouble once in a while. Roger was usually there to help her out when she found herself in an unfavorable position. However, that was in the past, and too many things had changed. He would give anything to be by her side again, but there was nothing he could. Nothing he could technically legally do.

With a deep breath, Roger drained his glass and set it back on the table. His head felt light, but not light enough for his preference. He glanced up at the bar again, noticing that Sonya was making polite conversation with another guest. Pulling out his phone, he found that the establishment would be open for a couple more hours, so he reluctantly flagged down the waitress. She smiled with her tray of used glasses, telling him he would be right back to get his order.

"What are you having?" a sweet voice implored behind him. Slowly, Roger turned around, his eyes wide. Sonya looked down at him with a small pad of paper and a pen, her smile unfaltering. He met her eyes and swallowed.

"Scotch," he whispered, panic in his voice. Sonya nodded and looked at previous pads.

"Alright," she mumbled as she found an old ticket, confusing him. Without an explanation, she glanced up and smiled again. "Weren't you here last night as well? What's got you down?"

"Just stressed from work," he replied nervously, avoiding eye contact. Her grin slid slightly, thinking he should find a new job, but she said nothing about it.

"Well, I'll get that drink for you. Izzy has been back and forth all night, so flag me down if you need another drink," Sonya winked before retreating back behind the counter. A few of the guests had left as she was talking with Roger, but some remained. He watched as Sonya poured the dark liquid into a shallow glass. She was back in a flash and a smile, setting his drink down.

"Thank you," he murmured, grabbing the glass in front of him. She told him to have a good night before she walked away. He watched her leave before turning back to his glass. That was the first time he had talked to her in months, and it was devastating. His chest burned with anxiety and his head swam with memories of her voice. He had nearly forgotten her voice, and that pained him even more.

Roger quickly finished his drink and stood up, leaving a few dollar bills on the table. He put his long coat on in one swift movement before shoving his hands in his pocket. He thanked Sonya again before leaving. He pulled out a cigarette and a lighter as he walked down the darkened streets. Originally, he had planned on staying longer and forgetting about his woes, but it was apparent that he couldn't. Not anymore. Not after hearing her voice again. He inhaled with the cigarette on his lips before exhaling the smoke again. He soon calmed himself again, beginning to think clearly again.

Roger put a hand over his chest, still feeling the anxiety surrounding him. He took a deep breath without the cigarette, remembering the good times. When he and Sonya walked down this very street, talking about adventures and traveling plans. Roger stopped to lean against an alley wall, closing his eyes. He could remember her laugh and how carefree she came off as. However, her eyes looked concerned and she was always on edge.

After clearing his throat, Roger took another drag on the cigarette and sighed heavily, the cloud lingering around him for a moment. He constantly wondered if he should bring her back in, but he always decided that it was better that he didn't. She was happier and safer as a bartender than traversing the world with him. It was better that she didn't remember.

Roger inhaled the smoke again before snuffing out the cigarette with his foot. He walked away from the street, vowing that he would never forget Sonya.